Oliver's eyes were still covered by the warm hand, and he bit his lower lip tentatively. This man was a stranger, and he could sense how powerful he was. Yet Oliver felt at ease in his presence. Or perhaps, it was the lull of the stranger's anonymity.
Oliver felt many old emotions stir inside him, and his throat tightened for a moment.
"I shouldn't tell you a thing." He whispered.
A tantalizing laugh came from behind the mask, and Oliver felt a shiver creep up his spine.
"My purpose here does not involve harming your royal family or kingdom." The man said softly.
Oliver smiled a little. "That's the least of my concerns right now."
"Such unpatriotic words are coming from previous Royal Consort. Jaded?" The man teased.
Oliver's smile twisted to a laugh. "Perhaps I am." He tapered the laugh off with a sigh. "Before I spill my woes, let me ask a question... If a war broke out, who do you think would be the first person ordered to fight on the frontlines?"
The man paused, and Oliver reached up and gently pulled his hand down from his eyes. However, he kept holding the larger hand on his lap, reluctant to let go.
"Why would there be a war?" The man asked, suddenly on edge.
Oliver looked away from the kneeling figure. His silver hair draped across his shoulder, cascading down like water, catching the stranger's eye. The masked man carefully took the silver hair in his hand, his fingers lightly running through the strands.
Oliver didn't answer directly but continued to speak softly, avoiding looking at the man in front of him. "My uncle and I would be the first to be sent, alongside the men my uncle had trained for many years. Aristocratic sons, who have trained to be soldiers, should volunteer for the war but will fall silent. Instead, Piers will push farmers and peasants to fight by my side."
Oliver turned back with a complicated look. "They will be weak and frightened, but we can train them. Eventually, they will grow into warriors I trust to protect my back. However, to get to that point, many will have to die."
"Some would call that a noble sacrifice." The man said. But despite his words, there was heavy anger laced in his voice. The man disagreed with sending untrained men into battle.
"The foolish would call it a 'noble sacrifice.' In truth, this is simply a pretty name for a pointless death." Oliver remembered Gallio's words.
The man was silent for a while, absentmindedly playing with Oliver's hair. "Would you go to war for Piers if he called for it?"
Oliver closed his eyes, trying to hide his palpable shame. "There was a time, yes. If he asked me to, I would have gone to war and faced the three kingdoms."
The masked man kept one hand within Oliver's grasp while the other moved from Oliver's fallen hair to his cheek, lightly caressing it. His fingers ran across his skin, brushing his ear until he reached the back of Oliver's head. His fingers became tangled in the silver hair. The simple move was possessive and nearly soul-consuming.
"Why? Why do that for him?" He asked, his voice even lower than before.
Oliver's breath stagnated, wanting to give in to this man. His words tumbled from his lips.
"I was young and poisoned by lullabies narrating tales that ended with 'happily ever after'. I convinced myself that we were supposed to be happy together. So when his eyes that used to reflect care changed to disdain, I sacrificed everything in hopes of winning back his previous adoration."
The man clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Why work so hard?"
"He was all I knew since I was nine." His voice trembled, and he closed his eyes. He felt his demeanor was shameful, considering his tough words and attitude within the palace walls moments ago.
"Although my position was unfavorable, I stubbornly studied ways I could be of help. Thinking he needed someone to rule the aristocrats, I immersed myself in fashion, jewels, and trends. I listened to gossip and raised his reputation... I tried to be fanciful to accentuate him more."
His words were slow and solemn. He tried many things, believing he was supposed to behave a certain way until it corrupted his mind. But the truth was that there was no genuine affection between them.
Oliver looked down at his hands. "My frustration won out more often than naught. Unfortunately, that was what society has seen... the tantrum-throwing fiance. I accepted this reputation but vowed to be much more than this. So I researched other countries, their trades, and international relations. I memorized every noble household and their contributions to the kingdom. I studied politics and found how to sway the hearts of a mob. I studied Bierze's economy and merchant routes. In the dark nights, I snuck into my library and absorbed military tactics and strategies. I learned how to manage a kingdom. I may not have had the Crown Prince's affection, but I had the means to rule."
Oliver had devoted himself to study in his last life after Piers broke the engagement. He knew more than the advisors of the current King. He could easily step into the role of a ruler without any qualms.
Oliver laughed bitterly. "While I devoted myself to this kingdom and my fiance, the Crown Prince devoted his body to the men who warmed his bed."
A bestial killing intent started to seep from the stranger's body. However, Oliver was not bothered by this because he had entrenched himself in auras like this for decades. Instead, Oliver examined the pale hand of the stranger, and his fingers traced the lines on his palm, brushing the callouses with tender care.
"But he is no longer my problem. Now that I'm free, it's time to go home to Wynter." A warm smile graced his face.
"You're headed up north?" The man was surprised.
Oliver nodded. "Finally. I have been in this damnable place longer than I wished."
"Most young men love to live in the capital."
"Most young men don't have death looming over them in the capital," Oliver said. "It will only be a matter of time before they march this old ghost through the streets and spill my blood in the middle of the city. I had little choice in how I lived, but I will choose how I die."
"That's a bit morbid."
Oliver laughed. "It is... You're not from Bierze, right?"
The man was silent for a while. "No."
"You're also not a spy," Oliver said. When the man didn't answer, he continued. "A spy wouldn't have let me notice them in the first place. Also, you said you have no intentions to harm the kingdom, which means you're here for something different."
The man sighed. "A prisoner."
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "I see... then you're really in the wrong place." He pointed towards the eastern tower. "The highest priority prisoner will be placed at the top of the tower. It has one staircase leading straight to the cell. It's narrow, and the risk of being caught is high. You would have to move fast to take down the guards. Anyone else will be underground beneath the tower. There should be more corners to hide in down there, but still dangerous nonetheless."
The man was silent, trying to accept this information. "Because of the kingdom the prisoner hails from, they will be adamant and not letting him escape. Our exit will be arduous."
"Rucrean?" Oliver asked with a tilt of his head.
The man's grasp tightened in Oliver's hair, pulling his head back a little and exposing Oliver's pale throat. "How did you know?"
"Your hand," Oliver said and flipped the man's hand to expose his palm. "Calluses can tell you the story of a man, including what weapon he uses. Your calluses were formed by wielding a spear."
The man released a long breath, and his grip loosened. "You truly are not what they made you out to be."
"I'm not," Oliver agreed with a chuckle. "Escaping will be difficult, so you should use some trickery. The guards are all heavy drinkers, so if you drug a case of wine and send it their way in the guise of celebrating the Crown Prince, you may have an easier time. A simple sleeping agent will do."
The man fell silent, contemplating this matter.
Oliver smiled and continued. "Using the tower as your waypoint, head north to the outer walls, and you'll meet some drainage pipes. They have been long out of commission and are clear of any water. Some creeping vines obscure it, but you will find it easily enough. It's wide enough for a man to pass through, so arrange horses to meet you on the other side. Once you're through, follow the Broken Ruins Path to the north. The path is rough, but you'll pass through Wynter, making the pursuing team hesitate. They have already offended my family and will not risk further confrontations such as trespassing."
"I don't understand... why are you telling me this?" The man asked. "Isn't this treason?"
Oliver sighed and gazed at the tower, his eyes with forlorn sorrow. "I owe a favor to a Rucrean... One I fear I will never be able to repay in this lifetime."
The man was about to respond, but his words were halted when they heard someone calling for Oliver in the garden.
Oliver groaned a little as he recognized the voice. "You should hide now."
The hand twisted in Oliver's hair disappeared, and the man slipped into the shadows.
"Oliver!"
Oliver turned his eyes towards the path to see Piers emerging with a scowl on his face.
"Oliver!" He called out again when he saw him. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Enjoying the night air. Why are you missing your party, Crown Prince?" Oliver asked with a condescending smile.
Piers glared and stood in front of him. "You know what I mean? Are you just playing hard to get? It won't sway me!"
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What did you expect me to do? Grovel? Beg?" He started laughing when he saw the expectant look on Piers' face. "My gods, you did. I'm sorry to disappoint."
He reached out and roughly grabbed Oliver's neck, forcing him to stop laughing. "How dare you sit there without even bowing to your king."
"You're not a king yet, Crown Prince." He said with a strained voice as he felt the hand tighten around his neck.
Piers bent down, his face so close that his breath hit Oliver's lips. "I can kill you for that comment."
"Kill me for speaking the truth? What a benevolent tyrant." He spat out the sarcastic words.
Piers hissed a little, letting go of Oliver's neck with a slight push.
Oliver stood up and loosened his cravat. "You should go back, Your Highness. Your people must be anticipating your return."
Piers sneered. "I don't trust you. You would have never accepted this breakup."
"Why wouldn't I accept this breakup? You made the right choice, Crown Prince. How could we lead a kingdom when our relationship is so precarious? Disharmony in the royal family spells disaster for a kingdom. Our marriage is a foolish notion."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm tired," Oliver said heavily as his shoulders drooped a little as if enduring an unfathomable weight. "I'd rather be done with this engagement nonsense."
Piers was shaking. "Are you saying being engaged to me was nonsense?"
Oliver shrugged. "I have many words to describe our engagement: Nonsense, absurd, harebrained, doomed... Shall I continue?"
"I should have just killed you long ago, Oliver."
Oliver laughed with a shake of his head. "You gave your best effort, so don't be too hard on yourself."
Piers rushed towards him and slammed his hand into Oliver's stomach. Oliver twisted a little but still felt the sharp pain in his side.
"Now, I gave it my best effort." Piers hissed.
Oliver smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "A good attempt. You better run off before your guards smell the blood."
Piers looked around hastily and gave Oliver a venomous glare before running off.
"Shit." Oliver gritted his teeth as he looked down at the small dagger in his side. "Fucking royal prick."
He pulled it out with a grunt and smelled the blade. "The idiot didn't even poison it, yet he called it his best effort? Sloppy."
Suddenly, he was pulled into a strong embrace. He looked up, and his eyes fell on the black mask. The man pulled up Oliver's shirt and examined the wound. He sighed, noticing the other scars that had marred Oliver's skin, and then wrapped the new wound with a cloth that seemed to have been cut from his cloak.
"You avoided most of the damage." The masked man said, his voice trembling with anger.
"He was predictable, so moving into a position to dodge it was easy," Oliver said, but he was still a little pale.
"You need to get somewhere safe to recover." The man said.
Oliver nodded. "I'll start heading home."
"On your own?"
Oliver laughed. "I shouldn't bleed out by then."
The man clicked his tongue. "Follow me." He wrapped an arm around Oliver's waist in anticipation that he would be weakened and started to walk him to the other end of the garden.
Oliver was surprised to be led to the cast iron fence at the edge of the palace property. A dark carriage was waiting on the other side with a man in all black tending the horses. The man turned quickly and jolted when he saw his employer holding up Oliver. He quickly looked around and rushed to the fence when he confirmed no one was around. He pushed one of the fence bars, moving it to the side, allowing enough room for a man to pass through.
The masked man helped Oliver through the fence and followed behind him. "We'll drop him off at the Kardos Manor." He ordered the attendant and then helped Oliver step inside the carriage.
They were soon on their way to Oliver's. Oliver sighed and untied his cravat from his neck, letting the silver silk rest on the seat next to him. He unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt and closed his eyes, not showing a hint of pain.
The masked man watched Oliver as his breathing became deeper. Oliver's hair was a little disheveled, and some pieces had fallen in front of his face. The man reached out and gently brushed the pieces behind his ear. His hand lingered and held onto the silver hair.
He couldn't help but think that Oliver was synonymous with the luminous moonlight. However, what drew him in even more was the faint scent of a dragon on him.
This night's events were an enigma.
He was perplexed by his behavior. He interrupted his mission just to be close to a man, albeit a beautiful man. He usually avoided personal touches, creating distance between him and others; however, he felt the need to draw in Oliver—a dangerous desire to become even closer. He was instantly captivated.
Oliver was like a dream that he couldn't quite remember—a fragmented whisper embedded in his heart.
Oliver Kardos... who was he really?
The carriage slowed and finally came to a stop. The man looked out the window and carefully shook Oliver's shoulder. "Oliver." He called out.
Oliver opened his eyes and smiled when he saw the black mask greeting him. "We're here?"
The man nodded.
"It seems I owe another Rucrean a favor." He sighed as he rose from his seated position. He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and handed it to the man.
"What's this?"
"Piers always held on to the keys of the prisons. Knowing he was in control of people's freedom inflated his ego. I took advantage of his carelessness tonight and swiped them when he got too close. Hopefully, they will help you tonight." Oliver said.
"Can I truly trust you?" The man's question had deeper implications.
Oliver smiled and caressed the cheek of the man's mask. "No, I suppose you can't. But at the same time, I shouldn't really trust you."
He opened the carriage door and stepped out. When he exited, he looked back up. "I pray for your success, stranger."
He closed the door behind him and walked into his manor.
The masked man watched him leave through the window. He shut the carriage's curtains and sighed as he took off the mask, revealing his face. His appearance was stunning: jet-black hair, high cheekbones, and a strong jawline decorated with a small scar. His deep red eyes were narrow and sharp but held a warmness that Oliver would have been familiar with.
A knock on the front of the carriage interrupted the man's thoughts. His attendant hesitated for a moment. "Lord Draco, should we head back to the palace?"
Draco hesitated. "I have a different plan. I need a sleeping agent and a barrel of ale... Retrieve these items within the hour, then position yourself outside the capital walls directly north of the prison tower..."
••••••A/N••••••
Most of you already guessed it, but Draco has finally appeared (officially)!! Thank you so much for getting this far with me!