The Grip of Good

“M-make her leave.” I stutter, placing my hands against my head.

    That can’t be… She can’t be here. I swore to myself not to see her again. She just can’t be here, in my estate…

“Devil, spare me.”

“But, my lord, wouldn’t the message be stronger if you told her yourself?” The traitor suggests. I’ll make sure to consider the possibility of firing him for that. “No one would dare to anger you once facing your evil aura.”

    I hate it when Keillweist is right. Of course no one sane would, not if they wanted to avoid having a target painted on their back.

“Prepare me something stronger. Stronger than tea.” I command to my butler before heading to the living room.

    The mere thought of having the Marquessa Ambrillia here, in my mansion, gives me shivers. Of anger, shivers of anger, that is. Doubtlessly. Unmistakably.

    Ohh, the audacity to disturb me while I’m busy with paperwork. To think that my day was perfectly planned, and there comes that noblewoman. Uninvited. In the house of a duke, no less. Does she think that I’m going to tolerate this behaviour? I’ll teach her some manners. I’ll spread dishonour over her family and make them the laughing stock of the whole kingdom. I’ll…

    The moment I enter the living room, my thoughts are shattered by the sight of the marquessa’s features. She bows in a pale green dress, amber ribbons pinched down its sides like a constant reminder of the colour of her locks I’m trying not to glance at. I should focus instead on the umbrella she left next to the door.

“I’m delighted to see you again, Duke Luphor.”

    I’ll…

“Pardon me for showing uninvited,” she continues, “it just so happens that I’m on a stroll through Oneixium.”

“Oneixium isn’t exactly close to Ambrosia, though.”

“So you know about my family.” The marquessa’s smile widens, to my greatest fear. Did she guess I made research about her? “Anyway, it would’ve been a shame not to greet you.”

    The tone of her last words, the way she lowers her voice ever so slightly as if I wouldn’t be able to tell,.. I’m unable to refrain from glancing directly at her. Just a quick glance. A quick stolen one before I gesture for her to have a seat on the couch.

    What a beautiful woman. I wish I were the cushion over which-

    Wait.

    No.

    Keep focused.

    I need to tell her to leave. To show her my true, grim colours.

“Come and greet an evil mind like me? How reckless of a righteous lady like yourself to come alone, defenceless like a cat in a wolf’s den.”

    Wait… Wasn’t I supposed to say a mouse? Ahh, but I can’t think of comparing her to that. She definitely looks more like a feline, a graceful creature…

“What if I decided to keep you prisoner? Be more careful, for the devil’s sake.” I threaten, rubbing my temple. “Do you want some pastries?”

    She chuckles.

“That’s not how I planned it!!”

    I wait for my butler to serve us tea and leave, most probably to bring back sugary delicacies.

    It’s only when I take a sip of my tea that the sour taste reminds me I asked for a stronger beverage. Good… It’s enough to ground me. There’s no time to lose, I have to figure out the marquessa’s true intentions. To expose her as the villain-purging pawn she is. Sure she isn’t here for some idle chatting.

“Now tell me the truth, Marquessa Ambrillia. We met but once during the last social evening. I’m not sorry to tell you your little acting isn’t convincing me in the slightest. But I’m going to give you a chance. Who sent you? Which mighty enemy did I anger this time? Speak! Speak, and I may allow you to leave alive.”

    Unbothered, she takes a sip of her tea. Her lips gently brushing the brim. Keillweist even has the time to return with plates of cakes, which he places on the low table. Stepping then aside.

“If you’re not going to let me leave your mansion,” she begins, “I hope that you’re ready to take your responsibilities.”

    I almost choke on my not-tea.

“She’s messing with me…”

“Alive, I said alive.” I feel necessary to clarify, as if it alone could suffice to avoid any possible misunderstanding regarding my intentions. “I was planning to assassinate you, not to… ke..keep you and…” I was merely threatening her life, not her… her…

    I clear my throat with a frown. There’s no way I’m letting her rule my thoughts. I have to admit it, trying to cause me psychic damage is a smart move, but that won’t be enough.

“Duke Luphor, is everything alright?” She tilts her head. “You’re a bit pale.”

“I’m feeling perfectly well.”

“Have you been taking care of yourself lately?” She wonders with a hint of worry.

    Worry? A hint of.. worry? Satan… What in the world have I done for that woman to keep pretending she cares?!

     I let out a smug laugh.

“I don’t need to rest. This body of mine is fuelled by the whimpers of the peasants struggling to repay their lord. Ahh, they don’t realise their crops and children would be prey to the forest’s monsters without my protection.” I add, shaking my head in disbelief. “Not to mention that I had the greatest of pleasures spending these last days writing letters to the nobles owing me a favour,” I savour the word rolling on my tongue, “if I dare to phrase it this way.”

    Silence following my declamation, I dare to think that I ended up scaring that poor and benevolent soul. Sure she couldn’t handle my evil aura.

    Actually…

    I hope I didn’t frighten the Marquessa Ambrillia too vividly. I’d hate being the cause of the nightmares of such a pure-hearted lady.

    Risking a glance down at her, that’s when I realise that she’s been peacefully enjoying her chocolate and raspberry cake.

“She’s not scared in the slightest!!”

    She can’t be that pure-hearted.

“That cake is truly of a delicacy…” She muses over her last spoonful.

“Keillweist. Bring more of that cake.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, my lord.”

    I raise an eyebrow at the answer. Not possible? A mere cake would stand in my way to satisfy the appetite of my beloved Ambrillia?

“How so?” I ask.

“This cake was the last our chef had the time to bake before you fired him.” My butler answers matter-of-factly.

    The fact left me speechless. How could it be that such a worthless cook was able to please the marquessa? Never mind. I’ll hire a better one, he’ll bake even tastier pastries.

“A shame he doesn’t work here any more.” The Marquessa Ambrillia notes with a smile. “A chef whose hands are able to shape such delicious cakes shouldn’t go to waste.”

    The way her tone weakens makes my eye twitch.

“Keillweist.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“Cancel the dismissal of the cook.” I utter with no space left to argue, a tone I usually save for ordering a traitor’s death.

    If not for my butler lingering in the room longer than necessary, I wouldn’t have noticed his baffled look at me. But as soon as I glance at him, Keillweist hurries out of the room.

“How kind of you to give him a second chance.” The marquessa notes.

“Kind..?” I utter in a whisper, as if saying it aloud were too risky.

    That’s when the trap I’ve fallen into becomes clear. No… I can’t let her have such power over me. I’m the evil duke! Everyone should fear me!!

    Gripping my cup vividly, I take it to my lips, gulping at a draught its whole content. But the further the horrid taste of herring mixed with what I hope aren’t rotten eggs assaults my throat, the more I regain focus over my sanity.

“Marquessa…” I utter in a hoarse voice, slamming the cup onto its plate. Shattering them. “Let me doubt your judgment. You may see but a perfect world with these compassionate eyes of yours, but I’ll have to remedy it. I am Rowan Luphor, the evil Duke, feared and respected throughout the whole kingdom of Emphrellaig.”

“I know.”

    Her calm, brief answer takes me aback enough to make me sit back in my chair, words gone along with my thoughts.

“You wondered earlier about the reason of my venue.” The marquessa resumes. “If such is your wish, I can tell you the true reason.”

    There it is.

    The truth I’ve been awaiting to uncover. Is she really agreeing to reveal it to me? Her overconfidence will cause her downfall.

“Do you wish to know?” She asks in a tone that makes me tighten my grip on the cushioned armrests.

    I nod.

    Her smile broadens.

    Silently, she stands up from the couch, taking her time to chase away the folds from her puffy dress. Does she think that she already won against me? That she holds all the cards she needs to defeat me?

    Her heels barely tapping the floor, she rounds the low table, getting closer to my seat. She makes a huge mistake if she thinks I lowered my guard. Does she hide a dagger, thinking it’ll be enough?

    Now standing next to my seat, the Marquessa Ambrillia leans forward, reaching out her hand near her face as if to tell me a secret… What is it with this weird position, though? Isn’t she supposed to lean closer to my ear???

    A soft pressure. Lukewarm, yet enough to spread a fire in my chest.

    Instead of nearing my ear, she just pressed her lips to my cheek.

“The true reason,” she whispers as she leans back, her amber locks brushing my ear instead of her voice, “is that you’re so amusing.”

“…”

    Unable to form a single coherent thought, I watch her blankly straightening back, taking a few steps towards the corridor. Retrieving her frilly umbrella.

“I’m going to spend the next couple of days in your lands.” She turns a mischievous smile back at me. “I hope to see you again, Duke Luphor.”

    And on that promise, she takes her leave.

    Slowly, unsure if I’m more afraid to realise it’s a dream or reality, I reach out my gloved hand to brush my cheek, where the soft pressure of her lips still lingers.

    I’m cooked.