This chapter is brought to you by Mahogany by asease.
Edited by: bafflinghaze
---
The criminal underworld was lit abuzz after the news of the Odum Family taking a step back from the annual social season was announced by the Office of the Imperial Faction.
Tybalt kept his eyes and ears open during this time.
With Royce and Finny gone, he was playing defense at the Capitol.
Putting a plug to some of the rumors proved more difficult than he expected.
In Noble Society, there were whispers of Naza attempting to kill the Duke.
The commoners theorized the Duchess and Lady Guinivere had rebelled against the family and were keeping Aurelion hostage.
As for the slums and the Red Light District, they believed Naza and Aurelion fought until they were both grievously injured and close to succumbing to their wounds.
All these rumors were running rampant, and alas, he needed to compromise. As long as none were close to the truth, he would allow them to spread, adding a few of his own into the mix to cause confusion.
The Odum Ducal was a symbol of order and balance. For something to tip the balance was inconceivable. No one could know what really happened.
Honestly, this was not how he wanted to spend his summer vacation...
The Capitol was in an uproar, and Tybalt had a migraine trying to keep things together.
Hence, he was here, sitting in a room within the Lotus Garden.
The brothel was packed with visitors on this particular night. The time slot he reserved was with his Aunt Ophelia, who vacated the room with a kiss on Tybalt's cheek once he was seated and settled with food and drink.
Tybalt was waiting. There was someone he contacted to meet him here, and with the way things were going currently, it was best they met at the Lotus Garden rather than anywhere else.
He poured himself a cup of tea as he read the report he received from his network.
There were summary reports on a few cases of poisonings that matched Naza's, but they were sporadic and difficult to determine as many of the victims were lower-level criminals.
Tybalt wasn't sure what to do with the information at first, unable to pinpoint any correlations. What was the leading cause of these incidents?
There was a keyword in Tybalt's mind as he read the reports.
Flower.
The word gave Tybalt pause as he noticed an interesting detail in the identity analysis of some of the victims.
Not many people realize how much of the underworld belonged to The Syndicate. The criminal organization had been around for almost as long as the Empire's existence so most criminal cases and deaths were usually connected back to them.
But why would they try to target Nazareth?
... The Iron Lotus, a sub-organization severed from—
Tybalt paused.
What did he remember of the Iron Lotus?
Tybalt knew Naza worked with the organization before. He took commissions from them to fund his earlier projects, and in return, they allowed him to send members after Aurelion.
He didn't know how Naza had come into contact with them, but he'd seen some of the things Naza created for them.
The Slave Emblem, for instance, was about to hit the black market soon. Sightings of Naza's creation were strictly within one circle of the underground ruled solely by the Iron Lotus, but it seemed the leaders of the organization were now actively seeking profit.
Was that the reason Naza was being targeted? Because he was the creator of the Slave Emblem?
There was a cause!
But Tybalt felt as if he had only one piece of the puzzle.
What was he missing—
The wooden sliding door opened.
Tybalt turned and saw that his guest arrived just in time.
The man was paler than he last remembered him, and his blonde hair was cropped short. The clothes he wore were dark in color and stiff—made from hemp, perhaps? It was entirely different from the silks and cotton the other favored for several years.
A blue cloak made from common wool was wrapped around his shoulders and his boots were worn from travel.
Tybalt would never have imagined this person would "degrade himself" to dress like a common man, but what a spectacular surprise!
Lavender eyes met lavender eyes.
Tybalt's eyes turned into crescents as he smiled wide.
"Titus, it is good to see you. You look well."
His older brother frowned at him from where he stood by the door.
He eyed the room suspiciously before he finally made his way inside and sat down.
"What do you want, brat?"
Tybalt poured some tea and slid the cup over to his brother.
"How are you? I've been doing very well, thank you for asking. Simple greetings, brother dearest. What would mother and father think of your manners?"
Titus laughed bitterly in response. "They lost that right when they disowned me, and seeing as I am now also a disgrace, I believe they would rather I die in a ditch somewhere."
Tybalt winced at the admission. Well, it wasn't as if Titus' words were untrue. His brother's decisions were entirely his own, and he was now facing the consequences of those choices.
"Father collapsed when he heard what you did," he said placatingly.
A small, mean smile formed on Titus' lips. "Serves him right," he took a sip of tea. "Did he cry?"
"Yes. It was quite lovely."
"Shame I missed it."
"You were in jail."
"It is what it is."
The easy exchange was reminiscent of their childhood. Too bad they weren't children anymore.
"How have you been recently?" Tybalt tried again. He was curious about his brother's whereabouts after their eldest brother bailed him out of jail. Titus disappeared completely from the Capitol once the incident died down.
His brother looked down at his cup and mumbled something.
Tybalt tilted his head to the side. "What?"
"... I'm working at a cafe."
"Um, okay...?"
Why was he being so bashful? Tybalt remembered Titus running that really sappy Lovers Cafe before he got arrested.
Titus covered his face. "Don't judge me," he said.
"Mm."
Tybalt totally would if it was as bad as Titus was making it out to be.
"I met a baker in the Francois Republic."
Oh.
"And she allowed me to brew drinks at her bakery."
Oh.
A sly smile appeared on Tybalt's face. "So you met a girl—"
"Okay, enough about me. Why did you call me here? My time is valuable, you know—"
"You still came."
There was a pause. Titus stared at him, his eyes scrutinizing and careful. Finally, he sighed. his shoulders drooped and he rubbed his jaw, and it was then that Tybalt noticed the slight stubble on his brother's face.
He looked older, in a good way.
"... You called."
They sat in silence for a moment, neither knowing what to say after that.
Tybalt's relationship with Titus had always been complicated. From day one, his older brother didn't really like any of the illegitimate children their father brought home from his affairs—Tybalt included.
It was a trend of the time for noble families to bring home their bastards, a trend set by Duke Odum when he brought home his eldest son.
Titus was unwilling to play nice with them and pretended they didn't exist.
But at least Titus was honest.
He was also stupid and made really dumb life choices, but he was frank, and he tolerated them to an extent.
The figure of Titus standing in front of him, glaring down at a servant who tried to splash dirty water over his head was a memory that still played in Tybalt's mind every once in a while.
Tybalt took another sip of tea and pushed the reports over to Titus.
"You worked with the Iron Lotus before."
Titus' face pinched at the mention of the organization.
Tybalt wondered why.
"... Why are you—"
"What are the Emerald Humming Birds?"
Lavender eyes met lavender eyes.
Tybalt didn't back down as he stared at Titus, trying to channel the importance of this question through his gaze.
His brother sighed and covered his face once more.
"... I should have stayed in Francois."
---
"I never liked you."
"I know."
"No, you can't possibly comprehend how much I dislike you."
"I think I'm starting to figure it out."
"You're so annoying!"
"Mhm."
Royce drank his tea without care as Neo's kid brother continued to reaffirm how much he didn't like him.
It felt like they were going in circles with this conversation, with Aurelion revisiting every single stupid thing sixteen-year-old Royce had done in this world while Royce just wanted to go to bed.
Finneas continued to stare at him with a judgmental face, nodding along to some of Aurelion's points because he was an arsehole.
Listen, yes, real sixteen-year-old Royce did try to argue that corn was somehow a viable way to pay taxes. He got that it wasn't a great idea. Royce was a businessman at heart, not a policymaker. He could never understand the differences between regressive and progressive taxes to save his life, and that wasn't great, considering he was the heir of his family.
... They'll get there when they get there.
Anyway, having all his shortcomings listed out in front of him by an angsty teenager with the emotional depth of a refrigerator did nothing to his self-esteem.
He would be pathetic if he took Aurelion's words seriously.
"... if you could take your duties more seriously—"
The words were cut off abruptly, followed by a dull thud of the metal tea cup hitting the sand.
Royce raised his head at the interruption and saw Aurelion pass out on the ground.
Oh shit.
"Don't panic," Finneas suddenly said, moving forward to pick up Neo's baby brother.
Royce turned to Finneas slowly. "Did you drug his drink?"
"Yep."
"... Finneas."
Jesus Christ, they were emulating Neo.
Finneas shot him an unimpressed look. "It's bedtime. Pick up his legs."
Royce reluctantly stood up and did as he was told.
They carried Aurelion into the tent and put him into his bedroll.
Guinivere sat up from where she was lying in the corner and raised a curious brow at the sight of her brother being hauled in like a passed-out drunkard.
"What happened?"
"Um," Royce paused as he tried to make up an excuse. "He's tired."
Guinivere rolled her eyes. "He has no stamina."
"Mhm," Royce agreed because he did not want to square off with a blender and lose.
"Goodnight." With that, she rolled over and instantly fell asleep.
Royce sighed in relief and got ready for bed.
---
Guinivere woke up the next morning with a dull ache on her back from sleeping on the ground.
The first thing she did before anything else was redo the enchantment on her hair. Silver turned red before anyone could point out the difference.
Once that was done, she folded her bedroll and started her morning ritual.
The sun was already making its way over the horizon when she stepped out of the tent. She wrapped the scarf Benedick had offered her loosely around her neck and joined a group of servants who were currently making breakfast.
"Good morning," Guinivere greeted.
The servants turned to her in surprise before they answered with their own greetings.
"Can I help?" she asked, because she was now a commoner and needed to pull her weight.
A woman handed her a bucket of potatoes.
"You can chop those into quarters." The woman demonstrated how she wanted the potatoes to look and handed her a knife.
Guinivere followed her instructions and made an effort to master basic life skills.
Aurelion came out of the tent an hour later, followed by Nazareth's companions.
"Breakfast is ready," she announced, handing her brother a large helping of the potato soup she made.
Aurelion stared at the bowl for a long, drawn-out second.
Then, slowly, he stared back at her.
"Eat." Guinivere shoved a spoon into his hand.
Her brother stirred the soup with the spoon quietly.
"Um—"
"I worked hard. Is it good?"
---
Benedick and Dagon were standing a good distance away, staring at their own bowls in disbelief. Never had Aurelion been more envious as he watched them discreetly dump their soups behind a rock.
How was one to go about telling their adorable and beautiful and cute younger sister that she should never ever cook again lest she wanted to kill someone?
Aurelion was no expert at cooking, but he was pretty sure potato soup wasn't supposed to come out in this indescribable shade of color.
He slowly brought his spoon to his mouth and took a small sip.
Huh.
He took another sip.
"It's... good."
"Really?" His sister's eyes shone with pride.
Hold on, why was she surprised?
"... What did you put in it?"
She tossed him a capsule.
"Mother's Traveler Pill."
"..."
---
Royce glanced over from his horse at the hunched-over figure of Neo's baby brother, who was seated on one of the wagons. "Is he done vomiting?"
"No."
Finneas opted to stay with the kid on the wagon as they traveled, patting him awkwardly on the back while cringing every time Aurelion hung his head over the barrier and proceeded to empty his stomach into nature.
"He's gonna need more water."
Royce tossed his water flask to Finneas. "Come on, moppet, we can't have you dying before we get there."
"I'm...ugh... not a mop—"
"Shut up and drink," Finneas said, before shoving the water flask into the kid's mouth. He then shoved him under a blanket as a hard breeze mixed with sand hit their faces.
Royce tugged his scarf over his mouth and rode ahead, catching up with Neo's baby sister.
---
When night fell again, they reached Vesille. The ancient city was now a tourist spot and there were plenty of visitors this time of year. The inn they stopped at was called The Peony Garden, one of the oldest inns since the founding of the Empire.
"Hey look, it says here that it used to be a brothel," Royce said, pointing at a plaque with a brief summary of the inn's history.
"Notable visitors include Lord Rowan Monttevi, Lord Belwyn Monttevi, Lady Jovette Calypto, Lord Tobus Arcadia—huh, that's the Duchess' family—"
"Benedick, honestly, that's not important right now. Let's go."
Finneas tugged him up the stairs and they rejoined the Odum siblings in their shared room.
They stood around a table with Finneas' 3-D map of the Holy City rolled out. Jesus Christ, he felt like Jemes Bund.
Royce took off his cloak and had Finneas bring out a few cups from his storage space.
The cups were already filled, and just as Aurelion reached out for one of them, Royce reacted.
"Oh, no, no, no—that's not for you."
He promptly took the cup away and handed it to Finneas before grabbing the cup filled with tea and giving it to Aurelion.
He slid another cup over to Guinivere.
Neo's brother looked at him strangely but accepted his cup without a fuss.
Finneas handed the last drink to Royce with a knowing smirk but chose to remain silent.
Royce explained half-apologetically, "Sorry kid, but you'll be four sheets to the wind if you get a sip of this, and if Neo finds out I let you drink without adult supervision, I'll be a dead man."
"... Four sheets to the what?"
"Drunk, love. Get with the program."
Aurelion sputtered with indignation.
Guinivere silently sipped her tea.
Once everyone was relaxed and settled, Royce immediately went down to business.
"What do you two know about the mission?"
Aurelion brought out a roll of parchment.
"We are to retrieve Saintess Auria from the Church."
Sounded about right.
"I can't say there won't be any political repercussions from doing that, but it looks like the Duke and Duchess have it all covered," Royce said.
"Certainly. It should be an easy extraction, seeing as they have recently appointed a new Saint. Their attention should be mostly focused on him."
Tybalt's voice came out from a smartpho—a hand-held magical mirror in Finneas' hand.
Both Aurelion and Guinivere flinched at the unexpected interruption, but neither objected toTybalt's presence in the meeting.
Smart cookies, those two. They knew what was good for them.
"Since we have our objectives covered, let's discuss strategy. What's the plan?"
Did Royce just hand leadership to Neo's fifteen-year-old baby brother? Yes. Because in this world, teenagers at this age should be capable of kidnapping a prominent religious figure of great renown.
The rational part of him didn't want to leave them alone, but the Odum siblings had proven themselves capable when it truly mattered.
His mind went back to another life where those clever political maneuvers trapped him in a corner as he realized too late the consequences of his actions.
"We will join you as pilgrims representing the Benedick Family," Aurelion told him. His voice was firm as if he was daring him to disagree.
Royce shrugged in answer. "Whatever you think will get you to the White Temple, I say go for it."
The White Temple was in the very center of the Holy City, similar to how the Imperial Palace was the heart of the Capitol.
The Temple was where the Saint and Saintess resided. During the pilgrimage season, the doors were open to the public for sermons, prayers, and other religious activities.
They talked some more about the details and layouts. There were hidden doors, passageways and servant corridors that the siblings could access if they played it smart.
The real issue was how they were going to leave the Temple.
Guinivere was the one to explain the plan. "The guard rotations start changing at noon. During that time, security gets lax and no one will notice a few additional servants walking around. We can disguise the Saintess and get out through the back."
All of it sounded great, except there was a problem.
"I have it on good authority that the Church utilizes a tracking device on the Saintess after her escape attempt fifteen years ago," Tybalt said through the mirror.
Royce felt a flare of anger when he heard this.
What a way to treat the Saintess of the Empire. There had to be some sort of misogynistic bullshit to all of this—unless they were also treating the Saint this way as well, in which case, the Church should prepare themselves to be screwed over in the coming future.
There was being religious, and then there was being hypercritical zealots. The most horrible people were oftentimes those who would find any excuses to justify their actions.
The room suddenly felt very cold.
When he realized why, he glanced over at the Odum siblings and saw both of them wearing identical expressions.
Which was none.
They were expressionless blocks of ice that could have rivaled the glacier that sunk the Titania.
Jesus Christ.
Just as he was getting ready to placate the siblings, Finneas threw a bracelet on the table.
"That should take care of that," he said, face pinching with displeasure. Leaning back on his chair, Finneas folded his arms. "Those holy bastards really think they're magicians after learning 'glowy hands' and feeling the pain away. Praying is not magic, idiot."
The last part was aimed at the church.
Royce stared at the boy for a long moment. "Are you Toraemon?"
"What the fuck is that."
It was more of a statement than a question.
Royce turned back to the siblings. "Anyway, I guess that problem is solved. Anything else?"
They talked a little bit more about the exit strategy.
He and Finneas weren't following the kids once they reached the Holy City. They had their own little side-quest to complete as well.
(Damn, this was starting to sound like a Dungeons and Drakon campaign.)
"We meet in two days at this location," Royce said, pointing at a spot on the map.
It was a spot for merchants to transport goods into the city. Tybalt pulled some strings with some of his contacts and got them spots in their caravan.
While the Benedick Pilgrimage remained in the city to uphold religious duties, they would be out of there within forty-eight hours.
"How are things going on your end?" Royce asked Tybalt.
"I got into contact with someone more knowledgeable about... you know, and I think I found a lead. Have any of you heard of the Iron Lotus...?"
Royce inhaled sharply.
The Iron Lotus...
Where did he—
"—have to thank those Lotus people—"
"—Gods, aren't you pretty—"
"—Those two bitches are dead, but we can have a lot of fun with you—"
They laughed as he squirmed, the rope tightening around his neck and loosening and then tightening once again, and then—
He took a breath. And then another. And another... before he was suddenly taking too many breaths and the room was shrinking and the pigsty was there...!
Where were his limbs?
"What's wrong with him?!"
"Hey! Benedick...!"
"Royce? Hello? Finny, what's happening?"
"Someone, go get a healer...!"
---
They tossed him into a cell across from his aunts. Royce remembered that cell. He was trapped there for weeks before they moved him into the pigsty.
How did it come to this? Why were they there?
After the trial, the Benedicks were stripped of their status and all of their properties, jewels, and gold were repossessed by the Imperial Family.
He was guilty of the crime of... of...
What exactly was it again? He couldn't quite remember the specifics, but he knew he was... doing something bad. Bad enough to cause the entire family to fall into ruin.
What did he do again?
Where was Nazareth? He hadn't seen him since... Oh.
They didn't start to really torture him until the tenth day. He was starving in his cell, and his aunts... the evil people who held them captive already killed them.
Then they strung him up like a pig for slaughter and... and...
They cut off his legs first, right at the knee.
Once he stopped screaming, they took their sweet time mincing his arms off, starting with the fingers and making their way down to his wrists, then his elbows, and then his shoulders—
—and then they gouged out his eyes and cut off his tongue and... and... and... what else? Torture and pain couldn't describe the hot and searing agony he experienced. Death was so, so close, and yet—
His story ended the moment he and his family were captured.
They laughed at his pain, at his screams, and the way he begged...
"We have to thank the Grand Lotus for this gift."
Those were the last words he heard before they closed the box.
The water rose in that box. He heard the violent waves and the torrential rain, and felt pain in his lungs as the sea swallowed him—
---
Benedick woke up the next morning with no memories of last night.
Finneas pursed his lips as he handed him a bowl of gruel from the inn's kitchen.
Benedick made a face as he stared at his bowl. "Breakfast in bed? You sure know how to make a man feel special."
"Shut up and eat." Finneas sat down on a chair and crossed his arms.
He watched Benedick reluctantly take a few bites of gruel.
"When are we heading out?" he asked.
"In two hours. The Odum brats are still in bed."
Benedick made a noise and forced the rest of the gruel down his throat.
He then rolled out of bed just as the sun started to rise.
The light seeped through the window and cast a glow on the other boy. His long red hair, mussed from sleep, turned a few shades brighter, appearing as if blood could drip from the strands.
Finneas held a large mirror for Benedick as he got dressed.
The travel clothes he wore had more layers than his own and were made up of detailed embroidery and jewels.
It clashed with the image of a humble and religious pilgrim, but Benedick's reputation as a squandering young lord with a history of debauchery and other not-so-pious activities diverted suspicion.
The Church expected him to be a lowly and secular individual, and it was better that they continued to think this way for the time being.
Benedick adjusted his scarf and stared smugly at his reflection.
Finneas rolled his eyes and sent the mirror back into his storage space.
The satchel was an experimental object from the Magic Tower. His brother loaned it to him for the journey and Benedick decided it was the perfect space to carry all his shit.
Did he really need twenty different outfits for this trip?
The answer was apparently yes.
Benedick spun around in his new robes with an exaggerated flourish.
"What do you think?"
"Perfection," Finneas deadpanned, heading toward the door.
Benedick followed him out with a roguish grin.
---
Finneas held his shoulders and kept him in place while the other blubbered incoherently.
"What the fuck do I do?!" he shouted.
Phelan couldn't see what was happening. The magic mirror was across the room and Finneas couldn't hold it while he was restraining Benedick.
Odum's siblings were already long gone, kicked out the moment Royce started to glitch like an improperly drawn talisman.
"You need to get him to focus," Phelan instructed.
"Benedick! Bene—Royce! Royce, get a hold of yourself! Do you know where you are?"
Benedick stared at him blankly, brick-red eyes hollowed with fear.
"I... I... Stop... No—please.... please..."
Finneas took a deep breath and kept his grip firm on Benedick.
"You're in the Peony Garden Inn. We're on a trip to the Holy City. Odum is stuck in bed and we're going to the Holy City."
"... Neo?"
"Yes, Royce, we're going to save Neo."
Benedick blinked. His eyes turned glassy and an ugly sob emerged from him.
"You all left me."
Finneas was not prepared for... any of this.
This was time-traveling bullshit between Benedick and Odum and had so many unresolved trauma and repressed emotions in between.
He was ill-equipped to handle whatever set Benedick off.
The other switched between crying, screaming, and begging, and all Finneas could do was remind him where they were and what they were doing there while holding him in place, which only worked for a couple of minutes before he was back to crying again.
"Give him a dose of the sleeping draught," Phelan said.
Finneas brought out the bottle and forced it down Benedick's throat as he tried to fight him.
There was a hint of betrayal in his eyes, widened with disbelief and terror. It made something curdle in Finneas' stomach.
The draught took a couple of minutes to work, but once it made its way through Benedick's system, he finally started to relax.
"... Sorry," Benedick whispered weakly. Whether or not he was aware of what just happened was a mystery.
Eventually, his breathing evened out and his body went limp.
"He's asleep," Finneas muttered, moving him onto the bed.
"You should go to sleep, too," Phelan advised, voice strained with worry.
Finneas picked up the mirror.
Phelan looked exhausted, too.
"No more discussions on Iron Lotus until he can handle it, or until Odum wakes up."
Phelan readily agreed.
They bid each other goodnight and went to bed.
---
Aurelion pretended last night didn't happen.
He and Guinivere got onto their horses once they left the inn and met with Lethe to discuss the plan.
Benedick and Dagon were already checking over the caravan when they joined them near the front.
Dagon shot him and his sister a warning look once they got close, conveying his message perfectly.
Aurelion kept his mouth shut, and Guinivere did the same.
Benedick didn't seem to notice, his attention focused on managing the caravan.
When they departed from the inn, Benedick rode beside Aurelion.
"We'll be camping out tonight, and then speeding ahead with a smaller group in the early mornings tomorrow," Benedick explained, handing him a map. "We will arrive at the city before evening and be a day ahead of the official group to help with the check-in process."
It sounded like a thorough plan. Aurelion couldn't argue with it, even if he wanted to.
He grunted and looked ahead.
Royce sighed, staring at him with pity as if he was a helpless and stupid child. "Day three and all of us are still in one piece. That's pretty good, not gonna lie."
Gods, Aurelion wanted to strangle him.
---
Step 47. The real treasure was the friends we made along the way. It's a good thing your friends and siblings are bonding. When both of your worlds are making relationships, that is a sign of harmony. Well, as long as no one tries to kill each other. Wake up.
---
The author has something to say:
Does anyone remember Titus? He had a short appearance in Volume I.
I'm alive! RL has been kicking my shin repeatedly for the last few months so I had to unfortunately go on a hiatus. If you're a long-time reader since... 2020, you guys already know I disappear without warning after throwing a bunch of chapters out. To new readers, I assure you, I have no intention of abandoning this story. My mental bandwidth just happens to be the size of an old crusty rubber band orz. Thanks for sticking with me despite my terrible update schedule. I will see y'all in the next chapter!
Thank you, Seraphim, for the fanart!