Special chapter coming on my BFF's b-day (5/27)!! Vote in the comments: Idol AU 🎤 or High School AU 🏫?
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"Your taste in interior design is quite to my liking," I complimented, marveling at the artwork on the walls as I passed through the foyer.
The woman chuckled.
"What a sweet girl you are, Lady Columbina. I'm certain that you will make a splendid addition to the ranks of the Fatui Harbingers."
"Ah, you flatter me, Countess."
The couple led us to a small dining room, where several plates of food had been placed in a decorative arrangement. Without even a word to exchange, Scaramouche took the seat at the end of the table, reserved for the head of the household, and placed his feet on the table shamelessly.
"Your best red wine."
A cupbearer immediately came rushing to Scaramouche's side, pouring him a glass.
Count Vitsky glanced at his wife, but, as Scaramouche held the highest power in the room, he resigned himself to a humble seat beside the countess.
All of a sudden, a tall, handsome young man with chartreuse eyes and ivory-colored hair entered the dining hall, dressed in a cream double-breasted coat with green accents and black breeches.
"Good morning, Mother, Father," he said softly. "And I respectfully greet Lord Scaramouche, Esteemed Harbinger."
I extended my hand to him, and, kneeling down, he pressed his lips to it with tender grace.
"Might I ask, to whom do I owe this honor?" he asked, his voice luminous and mellow.
Countess Vitsky chimed in. "Lady Columbina, this is our son, Erik Vitsky. Sweetheart, Lady Columbina is to be a Fatui Harbinger in a few days' time. Treat her with utmost respect and kindness."
Erik's gaze did not flicker from me. "Of course, Mother."
Quietly, he took a seat beside me.
The count cleared his throat.
"Your Grace, if you would allow me to describe the recent happenings in greater detail," he suggested.
I nodded, and Scaramouche responded with a tap of his finger.
"On the seventeenth of March, a maid reported to me that she had discovered ice crystals in the cellar and a mess made of the wine stored there. However, upon close inspection, she did not see any signs of an intruder, and there is no way to enter the cellar without entering through the servant's quarters or taking a direct route through the home. Thus, according to a thorough investigation my butler and I conducted, I am certain that, one, whoever broke into our wine cellar was not looking for a good barrel of our prized wine; two, the intruder is a seasoned master of espionage; and three, the criminal here is really not a 'who', but a 'what'."
I pondered this information carefully, weighing each possible outcome in my mind, but my thoughts were interrupted by Scaramouche's immediate verdict.
"The work of the Abyss."
"Most likely a Cryo mage," I responded in agreement.
"Lord Scaramouche and Lady Columbina, would you like to inspect the wine cellar after your meal?" the countess asked, shocked at our lightning-quick judgment.
"Allow me the honor," Erik offered. "Father, I know you have been busy recently. Please, get some rest."
I noticed the age in the features of the count as he replied, "Thank you, son."
Scaramouche put down his glass of wine with a clang, getting up on his feet.
Instantly, Erik and I placed our silverware to the right of our plates, signifying that we were finished.
I waited for everyone to stand before I rose from my chair, trailing obediently behind Scaramouche.
"Lady Columbina, you are truly beautiful. It's a shame that you cannot marry, as a Harbinger." Erik suddenly complimented.
I turned red, flustered.
Is he attempting to suggest . . . ?
"Why, you are quite handsome yourself, Sir Erik."
He halted and gestured for us to step back, bending down to knock on the stone flooring. The tiles slid open with a loud creak, revealing a large stone staircase that appeared to have no end.
Scaramouche took my elbow before Erik could even think of lighting a lamp, and, in an instant, we were all inside the cellar.
The spilled wine had a cloying aroma that blinded the senses and caused me slight vertigo. Several barrels were upright, others rolling on the floor, and the wooden shelves were damaged beyond repair. Somehow, the atmosphere was heavy and unstable, as if smoke was slowly filling up the room.
"Why hasn't this been cleaned up?" Scaramouche inquired, crushing green-tinted shards of smashed wine bottles under his feet. "Some useful maids you got there, little lord."
I defended Erik. "You misunderstand, Lord Scaramouche. This break-in was quite recent." Kneeling down gently, I pressed my palm to the ground, picking up every trace of elemental energy I could sense. "This is indeed Abyssal magic, but the concentration is strong."
"Mind explaining why there's mana all over this place?" Scaramouche snapped.
Erik went pale as a will o' the wisp.
"If you'll excuse me, Lord Scaramouche, what is this 'mana' you speak of?" I inquired.
Scaramouche glared at me, exasperated.
"Mana is the wrath of slain gods. The Fatui makes Delusions from it, but if you're too weak to use one of those, like our little lord here, you can get mana injected into your body."
Such advanced technology . . . no wonder Snezhnaya is so powerful.
"But the Abyss feeds on mana, you know that all too well, little lord," he continued, flicking dust bunnies off his shoulder. "Why are you still standing there? Answer my question."
Unable to refuse, Erik admitted, "The mana is a security measure to keep out monsters and the like, Your Grace, but--"
Prohibiting Scaramouche from retaliating, I took Erik's hand in both of mine.
"Lord Scaramouche, this is a matter for another mission," I declared confidently. "Sir Erik, do you perchance know of a location nearby that bears an ideal ambience for the festering of Abyssal energy?"
"Come to think of it, there is. By the sea, there are caverns embedded into the shoreline, and the men who once mined for ores there have long passed," Erik explained, sighing in relief. "But before you leave, Lady Columbina, may I have a word with you?"
My intuition seldom failed me, as I had expected.
Smiling, I nodded. "It would be an honor. My lord, please wait a moment."
Gallant as always, Erik kindly escorted me to another room in the cellar, separated by thick velvet drapes embellished with gold tassels.
"Lady Columbina, my deepest gratitude, for rescuing me there. Please forgive me for troubling you, my lady," he thanked me, playing with the filigree on his coat.
"I shan't forgive you, for you have done nothing wrong, Sir Erik," I assured him, strangely uneasy.
Erik suddenly pulled me towards him, forcing his spit down my throat as his lips met mine with unrivaled passion.
I gagged on the sweetness of his tongue, yet he showed no sign of stopping, snickering into another kiss and leaving me with the sick feeling that I was going to retch.
"A beauty like yours shouldn't be put to waste on the battlefield. Darling, marry me, I'll treat you better . . ."
That was when I smelled it.
The intoxicating scent of blood.
His grip abruptly loosened, and I gasped for air, choking.
A long, bleeding gash ran down Erik's arm, dripping onto his polished boots and leaving dark scarlet stains as he hunched over in pain.
And at my side was Scaramouche, his expression ever cold and murderous, like lightning. For a moment, I could've sworn I saw a flame in his narrow indigo eyes.
"Touch her again, you f*cking bastard, and I'm giving you a one-way ticket to hell."