What Do You Mean, 'That Was the Middle of the Story'?!

Kyle had gotten exactly what he wanted – his village, safe, from the lips of the man who owned the land on which it stood.

In the halls of Castle Zoroman, everyone’s rewards were being assembled. Chests of gold were being loaded onto carts for the bandits, with a separate cart just for Abagail. The bandits were watching each chest be loaded carefully, calling dibs on whichever one caught their fancy.

Speaking of Abagail, where had she gone to? Kari he understood being absent, and Fiona he guessed didn’t want to be in Demerius’s presence any longer than she had to. But what about Abagail?

----

Kyle got his answer after roaming the halls of the Castle for what must have been half an hour and ended up outside. A large gated hut within the castle walls had its door left open. He looked inside, finding it mostly empty.

There was a cast iron cauldron tipped onto its side in the center, filled with cobwebs and dried additives. Shelves were stocked with glasses covered in layers of dust in-between shed snake skins hanging off of free-hanging nails. There were entire cabinets with drawers strewn across the place like they’d been emptied in a hurry.

“This is where I used to live.” Abagail walked in from the next room, carrying two glasses and a bottle of wine. “My adoptive mother would sit right where you’re standing and do her seering. I’d be back in that corner.” She pointed near an empty tox boy. “She always lost it when I kept playing with a jack-in-the-box while she was working.”

Kyle walked around, banging his knee into a glass tube held in place by a metal frame and dropping some words that no one in this world had heard before.

“Oh, that’s the tube I was grown in.”

Kyle kept nursing his knee. “‘Grown’?!”

“She did not have a good time when she was pregnant with my siblings,” Abagail elaborated. “Once was enough for her. I was grown from other people - we're not related by blood.”

Kyle didn’t remember her mentioning having siblings before. Or that she was the magical version of a test tube baby. He watched Abagail dust off a series of abandoned spellbooks. “I uh, I guess things are wrapping up.”

Abagail looked up quickly. “The Prince will be holding a feast to celebrate,” she said. “We should stay for that at least.”

Maybe. That nagging feeling of unease was starting to come back; something about Demerius rubbed Kyle the wrong way. In his past life, he’d have said he was getting ‘bad vibes’.

But Kyle had to admit Abagail had a point. Being a no-show might be considered an insult. Even if Demerius was isekai’d, he was still a rich man in his past life. And if he knew anything about rich men, it was that they were willing to waste time and money if it meant wasting yours – because you’d always run out first.

His life expectancy as a peasant was short enough without angering the guy he’d come to ask a favor of.

----

That evening, the Prince did hold a feast in the castle’s banquet hall. With everyone seated around a long wooden table, professional cooks came out with course after course of food, from a thick vegetable soup to fresh venison and salmon.

None of it sat right in Kyle’s stomach. He wasn’t used to eating so much. But even the great taste of the banquet’s food couldn't make him feel better.

Fiona’s situation didn’t help matters. She had disguised herself in stolen monk robes and covered as much of herself as she could. Her horn still stuck out from under the robe’s hood. Kyle knew she wouldn’t be in a cheery mood; holding court with the man who ruined your childhood would do that.

Kyle also saw Abagail was more preoccupied with her wine than the revelry. While that was par for the course from what he saw living with her, she was going a bit harder than she normally would. Seeing her childhood home might have gotten to her. But that money she'd been given was what she’d said she’d wanted all along, right? 

But Kari’s attitude confused Kyle the most of all. She was saying all the right things, laughing at the Prince’s jokes. But there was a restrained look on her face he’d come to understand while being around her. This was just a performance. A well-rehearsed one that could fool most – but not him.

A familiar ting broke through the banquet conversation as the Prince tapped a spoon to his half-filled wine glass. “I raise my glass,” started the Prince, “to your bravery and devotion to the realm. Without you, none of this would be possible.”

Everyone raised a toast to that.

Office Kyle leaned in behind Real Kyle as the Prince continued to speak. “This sounds a lot like my old manager tooting his own horn after we met our objectives for the quarter.”

Peasant Kyle leaned in on the other side of Real Kyle. “He’s saying a lot.”

“…and as your Lord and Prince, I will continue to rule for the good of the realm. Especially as your future King.” The Prince smiled, taking Kari’s hand in his. Kari’s eye lightly twitched. “I see no reason to put off the future I will share with Princess Kari. I invite you all to stay as my honored guests, as we shall hold a royal wedding in one week’s time.”

There was a roar of applause from most of the guests in attendance. Kyle’s grip tightened on his glass. One week? That soon? Why that fast? He was –

He was bleeding. The glass he’d been holding had shattered in his hand, slicing his palm open.

Kyle quickly excused himself from the banquet, leaning near a torch so he could look at his bloodied hand. He tried to compel a healing spell through his ring to heal the cuts. The magic stemmed the bleeding but steadfastly refused to close the wounds, no matter how long he forced it.

With his frustration breaking, Kyle punched the nearby wall. He was rewarded for his good decision-making by feeling the bones in his hand crunch into dust.

In between the shock and the stifled urge to scream, one question kept looping in his mind.

Why was this getting him so worked up?

He’d been told his village was safe! He’d won! He was going to go home, ride into the sunset, roll credits! So why was the story still going?!

Of the two Kyles to ask the question, it ended up being Peasant Kyle – whose broken hand was now in a cast. “Are we sure he said our village was safe?”

Real Kyle was starting to cry from the pain. “He said… nnnngh… he was a man of his woooooord,” he whined.

But Peasant Kyle didn’t accept that. “That’s not what I asked. Did he say it? Those words and in that order?”

“He…” Didn’t. Demerius said a whole lot of nothing, just like he did at the banquet. “Oh gods.”

In Kyle’s shock, he didn’t notice a soft hand taking his broken one. He only noticed a gentle glow and the feeling of his hand’s bones forming back in place.

“Sir Kyle?” Kari’s hand held his close. “You were wounded quite harshly. Are you alright?”