Charlotte sighed and cast her gaze towards the unexpected guest. Despite the absurdity of having a rooster in her home, she felt too exhausted to think much about it. Instead, she offered a smile, kneeling down to make her acquaintance with the feathered creature.
"Hello there, new friend," She greeted softly,
"You're certainly a unique guest in my home, but you're most welcome all the same." He cocked his head, somehow looking as confused by her greeting as she was by his presence.
“He’s not one of your pets?… Oh my, is he dinner?” △△△ asked with his voice, while his hand gestures posed a different question for the “new” friend.
What’s the matter? The rooster’s blank stare reprimanded him for asking such an idiotic question. So, △△△ rephrased it into a more reasonable, yes-or-no format.
Is something the matter? The rooster refocused their attention on Lady Vikena. Slowly, their talon scraped across the floor. He spared a glance at her. His hands started to formulate another question when a tiny shadow came charging in.
As a wise man once said, bravery was not the absence of fear. It was feeling the fear, the doubt, the insecurity, and deciding that something else was far more important and pressing on in spite of such feelings. Bravery, like many things in the world, also came in all shapes and sizes. To all those present in the foyer, for example, the rooster was nothing but a bird. An unusually large and vibrant colored bird, but a bird nonetheless. For Champion, however, the rooster must have appeared to be an avian colossal, a bird of prey, invading
his home. A home that, until yesterday, was something he could have only dreamed of. A home where he felt safe, warm, full, and—above all else—loved. This was
his home and he would fight tooth and nail to protect it and its residents; his newfound family. Even from an intruder who thought vivid feathers camouflaged its true nature.
Champion—true to his name—lunged at the rooster, baring ivory fangs and claws, ready to tear their target into ribbons. His attack was swift as it was fierce, catching the rooster off guard. Though it was for a fraction of a second, it was enough for instinct to override any semblance of intelligence and wisdom the rooster possessed until then—every trace of
them were gone, leaving a bewildered chicken marooned in a house he did not recognize, surrounded by people he did not know, seconds away from being attacked by a shadow made manifest.
The rooster flapped his wings and let out an ear-piercing squawk before scampering up the stairs, desperate to escape the wrath of the tiny but ferocious feline. With relentless determination, the little ball of fur pursued his prey close behind.
The scene unfolded all too fast, leaving △△△ stunned on the spot. The sound of objects crashing into the ground or breaking into a million pieces snapped the count out of his initial shock. He dashed up the stairs to find that the animals found their way into Duke Vikena’s bedroom.
“Champion no!” Charlotte had cried over the chaos. She let her head fall back to stare at the ceiling in exasperation for just a brief moment before tailing Count Fritz up the stairs. However, she did not halt outside the bedroom as he had. Instead, she had darted inside and scooped the kitten up from behind. It hissed and tried to swing its claws in the rooster’s direction.
”It’s okay… Shhh.” She petted the kitten in hopes of relaxing him, alas it was to no avail. His fur stood up and his pupils remained dilated. Charlotte sighed and departed the room with the kitten. She sat him in her own bedroom and shut the door.
The dark haired woman was soon at the count’s side once more, her eyes falling upon the bedroom before them. Most of the room and even the bedding were green in color. There was a large round bed with a side table on each side, one which completely toppled over. At the far end of the bed was a chest. A couch flanked the left while a large dresser and closet could be found in the back. A sound of disapproval escaped her lips as the sight of clothes all over the room greeted them.
Charlotte moved forward and knelt down to start gathering some of the clothes off the floor. She soon proclaimed as she rose up to her feet,
“…That isn’t my pet.” “I admit, Lady Charlotte, that I was the one who asked first, but do you think it’s wise to confess that he’s dinner, right to his face?” While Lady Vikena swooped in to capture her brave little Champion, △△△ removed his coat, and held it between the kitten and rooster like a curtain, shielding them from both potential attacks on each other and cutting off visual contact. He had been inching closer to the rooster, who Champion backed against the last standing side table, and trying to calm him with a soothing voice.
Still riled up, the rooster scrambled up the side table, using the handles as footholds to reach the top. His ascent was far from graceful; the weight and momentum of the bird’s movements flung the compartments open. The change in weight distribution caused physics to work its magic and the table tipped over, suffering the same fate as its twin. A lone piece of paper remained where the side table once stood while the drawers disgorged their contents, scattering additional papers haphazardly across the floor.
Using what leverage the table provided, the rooster launched himself across the room towards the dresser. As his previous display of athletic skill demonstrated, however, his landing was not as smooth as he planned it to be. He skidded across the dresser top as he tried to turn around, knocking off everything in his wake. A funnel rolled off the dresser and onto the floor with a light thud.
When he went over the edge, his talons grabbed the closest handles he could reach to pull himself back up. As history had a tendency to repeat itself, the compartment flew open. This time, however, the dresser was the heavier of the two: the extended drawer simply hung perilously midair. Once he regained his footing on the dresser top—and after a considerable amount of flailing—the flightless bird evacuated to the one spot he was confident the strangers could not reach.
”Goodness! He’s lost his mind.” △△△ looked up at the puffed-up bird peering from above the closet, worry etched on his face.
“Shh, it’s okay, buddy. We’re not going to hurt you. The kitten was just scared. The kind lady moved him into another room so he won’t be chasing you down.” The rooster had not the slightest clue what he was talking about.
“How about this? We’re going to clean up the room while you catch your breath, and maybe later we can give you a nice treat. How does that sound?” Beyond the disorientation, the rooster seemed to perk up at the mention of “treat.” Wherever Wayra snatched this majestic creature from, it was evident he was domesticated if he recognized the word “treat.” Although the lack of chicken coops alluded the Vikenas did not own any chickens, Lady Vikena’s words confirmed the rooster was, at the very least, not theirs.
“Good? Great. You rest up, big guy.” △△△ turned to the destruction a single frantic giant rooster brought. He began assisting Lady Vikena with cleaning up.
“Not quite how I imagined my day would go,” he said with a chuckle.
Charlotte was relieved he had somehow calmed the crazed bird. The next dilemma would be getting him out of the house. Still worn down from all that occurred, she had continued to simply busy herself with folding the clothes. She managed to give the count a reply nonetheless.
” Me neither, but I’m afraid the universe has a no refund policy when it comes to days like this.” “Come now, Lady Charlotte,” △△△ said as pushed the drawer back into place. He noted two little brightly colored tickets on top of the folded garments. Each ticket, both brand new, had a picture of a circus tent printed on it, but no date.
“Surely the day hasn’t been ruined yet, has it? Look at the bright side. Duke Vikena came back home, you’ve spent time with friends, you’ve made a new feathery one. Why, you even helped people in need and you thwarted Count Damien twice, two days in a row, Lady Charlotte! What an accomplishment!” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, but the grin and praise he directed at Lady Charlotte was genuine.
“And that’s not even the best part! Did you see how valiantly Lord Champion fought to protect you and this house? One of the greatest declarations of love I have ever witnessed. How can that not warm the heart?” Suddenly realizing whose heart would not have been warmed, △△△ apologized to the victim. From the rooster’s perspective, the entire ordeal was nothing short of an unprovoked, one-sided assault—no matter how justified the kitten thought his actions were.
“At least no one got seriously injured and all we have to deal with is a little mess.” He inwardly flinched at his own words, realizing his error. Technically, no one got seriously injured
today, thus far. However, the news of her friend’s passing cut Lady Vikena’s heart as deeply as it would have had Lady Damien died this morning.
Charlotte paused in her movements and turned to face the count, her eyes searching his His words managed to get a genuine smile out of her.
"Your positivity is truly uplifting, and I am grateful for the opportunity to have met someone as kind and thoughtful as yourself." She said with genuine warmth,
"And I really am glad I'm so loved by Champion... It's been awhile since I've had a pet of my own."However, the count's last statement fell short, and Charlotte's heart sank as she realized that the news of Lady Violet's passing was still weighing heavily on her mind. She knew that she shouldn't dwell on it, but it was difficult to push the thought aside completely. She knew it wasn't true for certain quite yet, but she was hoping that Persephone wasn't the type to lie about something so horrible. As much as her thoughts had run rampant over the subject, it wasn’t something she wanted to bring up verbally to Count Fritz while he was trying to focus on the positive. But as much as she tried to push the thought aside, it lingered in the back of her mind.
Charlotte gathered the folded clothes in her arms and rose up with them. She took them over to the closet and began to hang what belonged inside.
“... I must confess, I feel as though I know very little about you.” She said thoughtfully during her work. She then further elaborated.
“You’ve been so busy with all the silliness in my life that I haven’t gotten to know anything about yours… I can tell that you’re very kind for certain, spending all this time helping me when you could be pursuing a future spouse as everyone else is. I assume that’s why you’ve come to Caesonia.” She turned on her heels as she finished hanging the clothes to face him once again, her eyes alight with curiosity and interest in her new friend.
The count hummed thoughtfully,
“I’m afraid I won’t make a suitable marriage candidate at the moment. I’m the newcomer, the commoner who held the title of count only for a few seasons. My position is still considerably weak within the court. I would be fortunate to make friends or alliances, let alone find a potential spouse.”△△△ picked up the funnel on the floor and examined it. There was a faint sweet scent on the inside.
“Besides, my future spouse will have a lot to handle if they wish to be part of my family. It's a fate best avoided, if possible.” ”Oh come now. Don’t let yourself become ensnared in the superficial ways of the nobility. There should be more to a marriage than a title. You have a good heart…” Charlotte stepped forward and assured him with gentle sincerity,
”You’ll find someone who will love you as you are and all that you come with. As for your family, well, anyone who loves you will be willing to accept and love them too.” She paused, her brow furrowing in confusion.
"Although I must admit, I am curious as to why you attended the courting season if you believe it to be outside the realm of possibility for you?" Her tone was inquisitive, but not judgmental. Her gaze had traveled to the funnel in his grasp as she spoke.
He started to respond, then halted when he noticed her attention was on the funnel. △△△ handed it to Lady Vikena.
“This? It was on the dresser before the rooster knocked it off. What does your father use it for? It smells surprisingly sweet,” he said as he skimmed the room to see if there was anything lying around that could answer his question.
“Not certain. I don’t come in here often.” Charlotte admitted. She averted her gaze to bite her lip as a possibility or two drifted into her mind. She moved over to upright one of the nightstands and paused. There was a single paper where the nightstand had once been. She hesitated before collecting it in her fingers. It seemed to just be a list of herbs. After a moment, she continued to put the side table back where it had been, then placed the sheet on top of it. She sighed as she looked upon the rest of the papers everywhere. Charlotte had not expected for Lorenzo to have so many all over the place. She knelt down to begin to collect them.
△△△ examined the list and his eyes narrowed slightly. Many of the herbs on the list were commonly used in magic, but were basic enough for mundane applications as well. Soundlessly, he returned the paper before approaching the other side table and returning it to its original position.
“To answer your previous question, Lady Charlotte…” He checked inside to make sure that the lucky few items that remained inside did not break from the impact.
“First I must clarify, I don’t consider myself outside the list of prospective marriage partners. It’s simply… well, I don’t think I’ll be high on anyone’s list. Not this year, at least. If, by some stroke of luck, I am, they have the right to know what they’re getting themselves into before committing to the idea.”“With that said, it’s true that courting is not my top priority. I’ve come here for a few reasons. One, I figured it would be as good an event as any for my international court debut. Two, this might sound childish, but I want to make friends.” △△△ began collecting the scattered objects on the floor. Most of the papers seemed to be poems, primarily about Lady Vikena, with a few about the duke’s late wife.
“And three…” the count hesitated,
“to find answers to old questions.”He only allowed the silence to linger briefly.
“Speaking of courting, how goes the search, Lady Charlotte? I hope you’re having better luck finding a prospective spouse than I am.”"I do not believe that I am highly regarded by anyone either," Charlotte stated, her shoulders slumping as she let out a deep sigh.
"In fact, I would not be surprised if I were at the bottom of most people's lists."“I find it hard to believe that you’d be at the bottom of anyone’s list.” △△△ batted the notion away from the air,
“If such a list exists, then it’s their loss for failing to see what a wonderful person you are. Not yours.”"To be completely candid, however, it does not bother me as much as perhaps it should. I have so much occupying my thoughts at present that I cannot focus on it."The conversation from last night played back in △△△’s head. He nodded without comment, not wanting to interrupt her.
As she spoke, Charlotte began to neatly return the papers to the drawer.
“... Oh and…I don’t think it’s childish to seek out friendship. Why would it be?”△△△ closed his eyes as he rubbed his fingers against the objects in his hands.
“Because friendship is a double-edged sword.” He said with a voice barely above a whisper.
“And… because, ‘even after knowing nobility all my life, I’ve never really known who to trust in this pit of vipers.’” After paraphrasing Lady Vikena’s own words, he fixed his gaze on her.
“So I understand why you’re hesitant to divulge certain matters. But… I meant what I said last night: I do want to help, Lady Charlotte. If I can do no more than act as a simple soundboard, then I will gladly take on that role.” His black eyes searched her blue ones.
“What is on your mind?” There was a lot packed in the question.
”I see.” Charlotte rose to her feet and she looked upon him.
“… My heart is set on uncovering the truth and protecting those I love. Marrying someone could slow down those efforts as I would not be guaranteed to live as freely as I do now.” “‘Even if it takes me years, I will uncover the truth,’” △△△ quoted her as he took a seat on the sofa. He looked up at her, silently encouraging her to continue. He sat in a position that afforded him an unobstructed view of the rooster, which had nestled itself comfortably atop the closet. A few birds landed on the window ledge, basking in the sun’s warmth.
Charlotte gazed down at him, her mind filled with conflicting emotions. The thought of opening up to someone after everything that had happened was both comforting and terrifying. She had been keeping her thoughts to herself, prioritizing others in the last few hours. However, with Count Fritz, it was different. He had been there for her, helping her through it all. But could she trust him completely? Was it fair to involve him further in her problems? These were the questions that gnawed at her. With a weary sigh, she finally answered,
“I think I will take a brief rest, Count Fritz…. I did not sleep much last night and I have Leo Smithwood coming over at 3pm. If you wish to stay, I can lead you to a guest room or you’re welcome to explore our library until then. Some our staff is walking around if you should so need something. First and foremost, I think I will go arrange for someone to keep an eye on our two new friends downstairs actually.”△△△ kept silent, his eyes cast downward and his shoulders slumped. Then he shot to his feet and bowed.
“I’m a dreadful guest. I should’ve realized sooner how tired you were. I took advantage of your hospitality and overstayed my welcome. Forgive me.” His head inclined further at the beginning of his apology. As he lifted his head, he directed his hands to the door,
“Please rest, Lady Charlotte. I can move the rest of the items back into the drawers…” He adjusted his gaze to the rooster,
“... and attempted to escort the other guest safely out. Would you like me to lock the door afterwards?” △△△ opened his palm to accept the key, provided Lady Vikena trusted him enough to entrust it to him—let alone leave him unsupervised in her father's room, even for a short period of time. So when she made no movement to do either, he accepted the answer, unperturbed, and continued dealing with the remaining clutter.
The ticking rhythm of the clock drew △△△’s attention. Not much time passed since the illumination started. Who knew what the staff’s reaction would be if they witnessed two blindingly bright stars tucked away in the basement?
“Lady Charlotte, could you instruct whoever you send down there to wait a little longer before checking in? I am sure Mr. Vincent and Ms. Mary would be grateful for an uninterrupted hour of rest.” “No, no. You’re a delightful guest. Really.” Charlotte assured him warmly with a smile.
“No such thing as overstaying at the Vikena House. My home is your home.” She glanced around the room for a moment before answering his other question,
” It’s just about almost tidy so no worry about any further cleaning.. However, I would be most appreciative of any assistance in removing Mr. Rooster, as it appears that he has taken a particular liking to you. I shall see to the locking up upon my return." Her gaze momentarily alighted on the pistol mounted upon the wall as she spoke. Having rarely ventured into Lorenzo's quarters, it was undoubtedly intriguing to observe their contents.
“Did your father serve in the army?” Duke Vikena did not appear to be someone who had a strong interest in collecting firearms, as evidenced by the lack of obvious gun-related decor in the rest of the estate. The placement of the pistol in his bedroom implied it was not intended for others to ogle at.
“No. Not that I know of. ” Charlotte had replied.
“I will go to rest and have Delilah ready to help you whatever you need. If you plan to stay, you’re welcome to join Lord Leo and I for lunch. Thank you for your company today.” After her final words and a smile, she left the room.
“Sweet dreams, Lady Charlotte.” Once the sound of her footsteps receded into the distance, △△△ reached for the pistol mounted on the wall. The surface of the weapon felt frigid against his skin, from the grip to the smooth metal of the barrel. Although designed to be wielded with ease using only one hand, the pistol felt incredibly weighty in his hands, as if it bore the burden of a life-altering decision.
△△△’s heart sank when he cracked open the chamber of the well-polished pistol and found a single round of ammunition loaded within. The duke had meticulously maintained and cared for it, ensuring that when the time came, it would not misfire—and it only needed to be fired once. What happened after was irrelevant.
The bullet was halfway out of its chamber when familiar words crossed his mind.
“What right do you have to decide who lives or dies?”
Udo poured librations overboard. The waves lapped them up as if they had not had a drop of water in eons. As one of Nnenne’s warriors, Udo should have known of the ocean’s unquenchable thirst, yet this knowledge did little to dissuade him from dumping every liquor—that the ship crew did not defend as if it were their own flesh and blood—into the salt water, occasionally indulging in a few gulps between hurls. “You people believe it’s awful to want to end your own life, why? Why? Why do I have to stay a second longer than necessary?” Amidst the drunken haze, his voice was clear as ever. “Abatala n'ụzọ m, ◆◆◆◆◆. I kwere m nkwa.”
Without pause or hesitation, the blade slid across the woman’s throat. Beads of scarlet streamed down her neck, creating a one of a kind necklace that glittered like rubies and garnets underneath the dim streetlight. She gaped at Peter, who stood before her holding the bloody knife, her expression a blend of shock and disbelief. It did not occur to her that karma also collected taxes from the influential. “Some people are better off dead,” Peter spat as the body collapsed onto the grimy alleyway pavement. “You can’t deny that, Boss.”
The only indication of Karleen’s puzzlement was the furrow of her brow. She surveyed the body-strewn battlefield with the indifference of someone who had become accustomed to such carnage. “They lost because we were stronger,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Muscles, brains, money, luck, the will to fight, to live. It doesn't matter what. You have to have more than your enemy, or you lose. That’s all.”
Without making a sound, an arm emerged from behind △△△ and extended itself. After reaching its full length, it flicked its wrist, revealing the card it held: the Wheel of Fortune.The wall hooks clicked as △△△ put the pistol back on display.
“Stop,” he said, the words sounding more like a plea than an order,
“I get it.” He placed the bullet on the closest surface. It did not matter where he hid the bullet or the gun, nor did it matter who the intended target was. If Duke Vikena was set on carrying out his plan, he would find another bullet, another gun, another means to achieve what this pistol and bullet were meant to do.
“I get it, loud and clear.” △△△ faced his audience watching from the other side of the glass. A deluge of birds amassed every window ledge and perched on the nearby tree branches, their beady eyes fixated on him with a detached curiosity. △△△ expelled a long sigh as he walked to the nearest window and opened it.
As △△△ attempted to regain his balance, the rooster propelled himself out of his grasp, causing him to fall backwards onto the ground with a resounding thud. △△△ pulled himself up, rubbing the backside that took the brunt of the impact, and swiftly scanned the room to see if the rooster had suffered any injuries. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the unharmed bird scurry under the bed.
With the goal of rescuing the rooster from the top of the closet, △△△ used a chest as a foothold to close the distance between them. He successfully coaxed the bird to come close enough to grab him when sudden barking noises from outside startled the rooster into another frenzy. Despite △△△’s attempts to restrain the giant bird and prevent it from bringing havoc to the Duke’s room once again, their struggle led to him getting himself snagged on the closet handle and subsequent loss of balance.
Given the destruction the rooster could have wrought, it was fortunate that the only casualties were the knocked-over chest and a few trinkets that spilled out of it. Regrettably, those trinkets confirmed a suspicion of △△△’s. He retrieved one of the many opium-filled bulb flasks in one hand and a bottle of gin in the other—a deadly combination.
Who needs a bullet when you could take these instead? It would make for a cleaner outcome: less washing would be required and there would be no need for a closed casket.
“Why are you so insistent on leaving her behind?” he asked the master of the room.
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