Chapter 82: The Crown’s Purge. (7)

The rapping of fingers on wood echoed through the room, the occasional sound of fingernails slipping across the very same wood occasionally mixing with the repetitive sound. Abigail was nibbling on the tip of her right thumb, her other hand nervously tapping the armrest. Caine was… pouring some wine so that she could wet her throat.

"I do not wish for it to become twisted so I’ll start the conversation off by saying that I’ve known about him for quite some time already."

Caine sat down in his seat after sliding Abigail’s glass across the table, bringing his own to his lips as he drank deeply. The time had come, the presence obscuring magic on Gabriel had faded and Abigail discovered the true identity of Alice’s knight. It happened a little earlier than Azuras had predicted, but he had been vague about the time to begin with so perhaps it was only to be expected.

"I wasn’t lying when I said that I think he is tired, Abby. I honestly believe that Azuras is tired of this, Abby. It’s just been twice, but he’s fought and failed twice already. Did you not see how he looked in the previous run when he learned the truth? A loop, an eternal prison to trap him until we get the ending we want. He cannot escape. He cannot fight. He can only suffer. He can only lose."

Caine simply kept talking. The dumbfounded expression on Abigail’s face was exactly what he had been expecting. Of course, she hadn’t seen the Azuras he had. She had only ever met the Azuras who was at the height of his hatred, the peak of his ferocity.

Caine however, knew of far more loops than her, far more attempts. The Azuras he knew was just tired, kept going by nothing but spite and what was left of his old hatred, smoldering in his chest as nothing more than paltry embers. And his Abigail… Had been reduced to something far too similar. Hence, he made a deal.

"And yet… He kept fighting. Did he stop after he learned the truth, Caine?"

Abigail looked pained. Caine wanted to embrace her, soothe her so that she could rest easy. She was like him, or at least the one inside was. She didn’t have anything to do with this world, she didn’t even have to be here. But she made the choice. She remained. And she kept fighting for this world until it broke her. To this suffering girl that kept fighting at his side, he wanted to offer a modicum of peace, he wanted to make it so that she didn’t end up regretting her choice.

"No, he didn’t stop fighting, I can’t refute that. But Abby… You have to look at the world in front of you. The past can’t be changed and the future can only be changed in the present, so you have to always look at the reality around you. You were the one who told me that, Abby."

Caine was still shackled so he had to choose his words carefully. And unlike Abigail, he didn’t have to contend with just the natural restrictions of the loop, he also had his contract with Azuras to keep in mind. And naturally, one of the points in that contract was to not mention their deal to others.

"What has he done so far, Abby? Who has he killed, what has he gathered? Think about the last two times, compare those pasts with the present you can feel. How are they different?"

Caine guided her slowly, a hand sliding across the exceedingly small table until it came to rest on Abigail’s hand, silencing her nervous tapping. He’d have to go step by step, little by little, it would be impossible to go all at once. But eventually, she would have peace. Eventually the two of them could enjoy their time together without worries.

"…"

Abigail hesitated. She had naturally seen some inklings about it already. People that should have been attacked were left alone, people unrelated to anything were attacked, plots that should have unfurled were cut down. The first place Azuras always attacked, the orphanage, he hadn’t even attacked it once this time around, it was as if it didn’t matter to him.

His first pawn, the poor abused girl that was Alice, was also different in this run. She hadn’t stirred up any of the usual trouble, she hadn’t grown into the ambitions and ideals she usually followed… She hadn’t even summoned the same spirit that she usually had.

And his affinities, the spirit he summoned in his last life… He had none of them. Normally, you could assume that he was tricking them by hiding his actual affinities. But Azuras had just shown off his affinities to everyone thanks to the emperor, and Akasha and Karas weren’t things you could just fake.

But still…

"He’s dead, Abby. It’s hard to admit, but the Azuras we know is dead, he has to be. Among the things we did, one of them must have created a butterfly effect that affected Alice and Azuras, otherwise there’s no way that they would be like this."

Caine could see that Abigail was still hesitating and thus kept attacking. Of course she was hesitant, Azuras had carved scars into her that were deeper than anything else, they practically swallowed her entire soul.

"But…"

Caine could feel Abigail’s hand trembling beneath his. A soft quiver, barely noticeable above her elevated pulse. She wanted to hope, but she couldn’t. She had seen death, she had felt it. She had seen his hatred, she had felt it, more so than anyone else in this world. The peace they sought… Perhaps she had a hard time even believing that they could actually achieve it. But they would, Caine would make sure of that.

"Abby, we’ve made it. We’re much closer than ever before. We will know peac… Hm?"

A slight disturbance from the hall next to them drew the pairs attention before Caine could finish his sentence. It was quiet. The bustling party that should still be going on just beyond the doors seemed to have fallen silent.

Caine felt Abigail’s pulse shoot through the roof, an imperial party wouldn’t fall silent like this for no good reason. And with Azuras just beyond those doors, there was naturally only one conclusion she could draw.

She sprung up from her seat, her hand naturally spinning around so that she could grab Caine’s hand as she rushed to the door. The wood groaned as she pushed against it, cracks extending from beneath her palm as she violently pushed the doors open, ready to act at a moment’s notice. And then she saw them, two very familiar pairs of eyes looking at each other, exuding emotions they had never shown each other in the past.

——

It was silent. Well, at least Alice thought it was silent. No, it could just be that she was blotting out all other sounds at this moment in favour of hearing Gabriel better.

He was holding her hand. She had rejected everyone else that tried to hold her hand today, even if they were just trying to give her the usual polite greeting. So he was the first who got to hold it, he was the only one who got to feel her heat.

And thanks to the light kiss he gave her hand, she too could feel his heat. A breath like fire, what she had given he was finally returning.

"Say it again… Gabriel."

Her own voice felt distant, distorted by a crackling filter. She felt a breath slip out as she was talking, creating a small and awkward pause in her words. She could feel her chest. It was pounding, jumping. It was as if just a little bit more strength would be enough to shatter her ribs from within.

"I am yours, Alice."

His voice was like bells, little silver jewels that rang with the sound of heaven. He was looking straight at her, only at her. The violet leaked from his eyes, it streaked down his face and pooled all around him. Like a stain it grew around them, dyeing everything with a poisonous violet. Only a sliver of silver remained within the poison, strands of fluttering hair like silver threads.

Ah, her awkward and lovable treasure, her little broken box of jewels. He must have done his best, really. Adorning extravagant and grand clothes he never wore, exuding his aura for all to marvel at, drawing everyones attention with his slightest moves. He really did his best for her.

"But in turn, you are mine."

His voice was powerful. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

Ahh~ It tingled when he spoke. Her awkward knight, her lovable everything. She’d pushed him to the edge, prodded at the broken pieces until they started to slide back together. And this was the end-result.

It wasn’t a proposal. Nay, it couldn’t even be called a question. He wasn’t asking for her opinion, he wasn’t giving her a chance to respond. He was hers. She picked him up as a child and gave him a place to stay, so he belonged to her. But in turn, she belonged to him. He had chosen her just as much as she had chosen him. She gave him a place to stay, and he gave her a life. Thus, they belonged to each other. And only each other.

Yes, he wasn’t asking. He was stating. He was claiming. In front of everyone here, he would take her for himself. The imperial princes, the ducal child of the Sorin family, he would steal her away from all of them. He would cover her in chains for all to see, for all to fear.

Ahh~ Her hand quivered, she could feel the muscles in her legs tense. He kept looking at her. He was looking at only her with that piercing gaze of his. She thought back to that nightmare she had when they returned from the northern duchy.

The sight of the duchy burning, fiery tendrils descending from a broken sky, that nightmarish scene left less of a mark on her than that pair of eyes. And the things she felt towards the Caine she saw in that dream… It paled in comparison to the sensation running through her hand right now, the tingling that threatened to swallow her.

Ah, my lovable and broken knight, how dearly you’ve broken me.

"…Talk about this?"

A voice came from behind, garbled until she could barely understand what it was trying to say. Probably the child from the Sorin family, Marais something. He really was annoying in how plainly apparent he had tried to make things. He was just as annoying as that Marquis that had clung to Gabriel’s side, ceaselessly trying to tempt him back to their estate. Ah, Alice really wanted to hit that old man at least once.

"…me?"

The garbled voice kept prodding her from behind, he really wasn’t understanding the situation and giving up gracefully. Oh well, it wasn’t like she was planning on letting anyone here hold even the smallest of vain hopes. She’d make sure that everyone understood the situation. Even the imperial family would have to publicly accept it, with what she had set up they would have no other choice. Thanks to that knowledge, she could smile comfortably.

"You have to say it properly, Gabriel. You’ll say it properly, right?"

She wanted to hear it properly, she needed to hear it at least once. She believed, she trusted with all her heart. But she needed to hear it. She needed him to show it in a way that couldn’t be misunderstood, she needed him to say it in a way that left no room for questions. She needed him to soothe her with the truth she already knew.

"Naturally."

His response was oh-so simple, his voice brooking no room for doubt. Her fingers trembled in his grasp. She’d worked towards it, set up everything so that it would come to pass. And now it was here… She felt a tingling sensation, a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

"Get on your knees, Gabriel."

She felt her breath catch in her throat. The world only grew all the more silent, even the garbled voice from behind faded, swallowed by the poison that had seeped into her body ever since that day she went to the orphanage. She picked her poison, and she had drank deep of it, until it was all that was left.

Gabriel’s legs bent, his knee touching the carpet. But he just kept looking at her. Her hand wouldn’t stop quivering. Her ribs were tingling, reverberating with the sound of her own heart. Her legs were tense, every ounce of her strength was needed to keep her standing.

"Here."

She fished through her dress. Gabriel was holding right hand so she had to somewhat awkwardly use her left to dig into the hidden pocket she had prepared. She pulled out the item she had prepared in advance and placed it in Gabriel’s hand.

"Do it properly."

A silver band that twined around a large amethyst that held a deeply crimson core that almost looked like a dragon’s eye, leaf-like markings dancing around a scaly pattern across the entire silver band. The Eye of Rostam, a ring expensive enough to buy almost half a city. It had taken some effort, some legal and even more illegal, to ensure that this would find its way to her.

And it was all for this moment, for this awkward man to hand it to her as he did things properly. She’d be fine with anything he gave her, but if he gave her something like the Eye of Rostam as he proposed then it would make it that much harder for anyone else to say something about it.

But she wasn’t the only one who had prepared for this moment. She had pushed him to the edge and skewed the timing of it, but Gabriel did bring up his intent to propose all on his own.

"I’ll take this one."

His voice was the only thing she could hear clearly. He took the ring she placed on his palm and removed his glove, sliding it onto his left ring finger. The gem seemed to glow as he wore the ring, the crimson core almost pulsating as his mana leaked into it.

His hand slid into his crimson suit jacket, the golden buckles clanking as he reached into the inner pocket. When he pulled it out again, he was holding the small box he had used the Night Pack to secure once he learnt that a certain other organization was competing against them to get the Eye of Rostam.

"Alice De Vritara."

Alice could hear the blood rushing in her veins as Gabriel spoke. She could swear that the hand he was holding was trembling enough to make his entire body shake. She was tingling, her every muscle tensing violently.

"I am yours."

Gabriel squeezed the box, causing the top to spring up and reveal its contents. A soft silk sheet, a ring neatly placed on top. A circular band with three sections, each one bleeding into the next one. An upper layer made from a single large ruby, polished to perfection. A middle layer of pure silver, gleaming as it reflected the light. A lower layer of dark amethyst, almost swallowing the light before it could reach the silver centre.

The three sections were perfectly fused, the colours melding to the point where you could think that the ring was made from a single gemstone despite the three differing colours. And carved across the entire ring were minuscule dragons, each one spinning around the next as if they were dancing.

It didn’t look as luxurious as the Eye Of Rostam, few things did. But it was an example of masterful craftsmanship, a true gem forged by the hands of the best magic blacksmiths. And that gem was plucked from its box by Gabriel.

"In turn, I want you to be mine. If you are to smile that brightly, I want you to do it at my side. Not by someone else, not because of an arranged marriage, not because of a beneficial union. By me, and because of me."

He spoke, crystal clear bells ringing in Alice’s head. That awkward man of hers finally bared a fraction of his heart, a sliver of desire that she had awoken in him, twisted out of him like he twisted her. The man who only did things because they would further her own position, he was cutting off the most profitable option with his own two hands.

She trembled as the memory of a familiar taste flashed by her mind, dancing on the tip of her tongue.

"Alice De Vritara, I want you to marry me and be mine, and mine alone."

The words fell from his lips. They echoed throughout the violet world he had made, coming from every drop of colour that filled the hall. He was looking at her, straight at her, only at her. And Alice… Cracked.

The rationality she had done her best to maintain, the strength she had put into her legs to remain in place, it all crumbled as she cracked. Those words, that simple statement, it was all it took to break her where she stood.

She fell forward, or perhaps lunged was a better word. Her hand slipped from Gabriel’s as she stretched out her arms, grabbing his face as she pushed him back. Naturally, he fell backwards onto the carpet because of this, Alice ending up on top of him.

Ahh~ Who cares if they were in public. Who cares if all of these people were looking at them. She had to mark him, she needed to mark him. And she wanted to be marked, to be tasted.

She straddled him, her breathing ragged as she could hear the pounding of her own heart, the rushing of her own blood. She was cupping his cheeks, looking down at him. She was reflected in that poisonous violet. Only her. The only thing those eyes reflected was her. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

She leaned down and stole his lips. She couldn’t hold back any more, he’d completely broken her again. She was greedy, and she stole them greedily, as if they would slip away if she didn’t.

The familiar taste spread again, a mixture of blood and apples. He hadn’t eaten apples today, nor were there apples in the wine he drank. But she tasted the apples nonetheless, the taste spreading through her mouth along with the blood that quietly dripped out from how violently she had stolen his lips.

For a moment, she wanted to pull back so that she could catch her breath. She had marked him properly, he had extended his hand to mark her and she had marked him in return. Violently, publicly, leaving no room for anyone else to even speak up. She wanted to lick her lips to savour the after taste.

But a pair of hands landed on her cheeks when she tried to pull back. The sensation of gloves on one side and bare skin on the other, the cold sensation of a ring. Her heart almost stopped. Her world most certainly did stop.

And then her lips were claimed. Her breath was stolen. She had given fire, poured it out until the other party had no room for anything else. And now, what she had given was returned in the form of poison.