Disclaimer: I'm not creative enough to invent a story like Beauty and the Beast and Pandora Hearts so I simply make my own AU.
Rant- This is a cushion chapter just for relaxation purposes. More mayhem will commence next time.
Chapter 10
After the earlier fiasco, some of the wounded knights seemed appreciative of the momentary silence that followed. A few knights appeared ready to drift off into a peaceful slumber now that all the hard work was done as the last turncoat was led away kicking and screaming profane curses.
All the instruments of battle were tossed away- carelessly forgotten and ruined. Many shields were bent along the edges or cut in half from hammers striking them. Blood was smeared on the once pristine tiled flooring. Reim pitied the servants having to clean up this catastrophe.
Reim continue to rub circles in the center of Miranda's back, his superior gave him an infuriated glare before shaking him off. At least she had returned to normal, although more unfriendly looking than ever. He wasn't going to lie Miranda made him feel uncomfortable sometimes.
There was just something about her that screamed death and gloom should you cross her wrong.
Her grey eyes were vivid now and glowing with unseemly shame, even her cheeks were flustered. Very different compared to her usual icy features.
The prince glanced over to Lottie after gazing at the door where Lacie and Break had left several moments prior with a wistful gaze to those usually calm emerald orbs. Walking over to the forgotten knife he picked the instrument of bloody carnage up and gazed at it with silent stupor.
Reim got the impression he, himself, wasn't the only one in shock over a tiny object, used for daily occurrences, being used to bring down the all-powerful seeming lunatic in such a swift manner. The girl was one surprise after another.
Sparing a swift glance down Reim had almost forgotten he was now carrying Lacie's satchel, stuffed with her brother's traveling clothing-all dirtied- and his spare clothing as well. It would be an interesting time trying to determine which clothing was his since both sets of traveling garments were dirty beyond measure- much to his earlier chagrin. Now he couldn't seem to recall why he was so angry. He could hear clinking sounds from her satchel earlier and wondered what else was hidden in its depths. (Her hat was sticking out somewhat shyly from the bag- also in ruin from an unfortunate meeting with a puddle).
"Lottie," the prince said softly.
Reim had almost forgotten about their savior. He was still in some shock that she knocked some men aside to drag the two away from the battle by their lapel, or sleeve in Miranda's case.
Looking up he saw the tiny young woman flick a loose strand of hair off her shoulder before folding her arms to stare at the prince. After a moment she questioned, "Yes, sire?"
The prince didn't seem peeved at her casualness, then again it was only on rare occasions the prince was easily enraged- the battle was one of those rare moments.
"Please take my lead servant, Miranda, and messenger, Reim, to the study room. I think enough time has passed and Lacie should have been subdued by now should she provide any resistance," the prince continued to study the knife, lifting the object above his head to study it further. An outsider would have thought he was inspecting whether the object was gold or a false imitation. The blood had crusted somewhat on the sharp edges, but a few drops fell nonetheless.
Lottie bowed, returning to proper decorum, "As you wish."
Grabbing Reim by his arm he was pleasantly shock to find himself yanked off the ground with one effortless attempt. The pink-haired forest guard was stronger than she appeared. When she turned to Miranda she offered a hand respectively- allowing Miranda some dignity. But neither servant was surprised to find the red-haired servant brushing off her skirt as she lifted herself in slow feline fluid movements.
Neither servant said a word at the icy glare sent their way.
Taking a few skips behind them Lottie nodded her head in the direction of the door Break went through earlier. Slowly and quietly they began walking out. Ignoring the attentive gazes of the wounded soldiers giving them mixed looks of pity and disgust.
The prince lowered the blade and pursed his lips watching them leave. Reim got the impression of an inner storm cultivating beneath the calm surface.
And now we wait our turn for imprisonment or certain freedom.
One green hall, another green hall, a hall with candles along the table, a hallway with an ugly portrait of a woman singing.
Lacie could feel her head spin as she tried remembering every twist and turn. Any thought of escaping to find Oswald had been obliterated as Break seem to find sadistic delight in leading them to dead ends to throw her memory off- claiming he had forgotten the way.
With every dead end her eyes became more and more glazed over with disbelief. Just how massive was this colossal castle?
It had been awhile since she saw another servant lurking the halls. The ones they ran into stared at her bloody appearance with aghast. Looking down she would then remember her bloody cheeks and hands, hands that were kept a safe distance away from Break's tight grip.
When he grabbed her earlier he made certain to grab her right upper arm where no blood or dirt had manage to soil her outfit.
The grip on her arm tightened and she couldn't resist the winch overcoming her. She didn't believe he meant to hurt her but Break had a powerful grip she was learning quickly- and some expert sword combatant training judging from his earlier swift, aggressive strokes done to the novice.
"Break, please unhand me or loosen your grip. I am at the point where I can no longer feel circulation," she asked urgently, after a quick afterthought she added, "please."
The knight turned towards her and his silence pretty much read Really?
She wished Break would take that damnable jester helmet off. There was something eerie about its laughing face when shadows danced across its silver surface. It was hard talking to a man whom she couldn't even determine what his face looked like since the mask only granted tiny peepholes for him to have some capability of sight. With his whimsical nature and playful banters she would have thought him harmless…until he swung a sword with that alien mask.
Lacie clenched her hand to try working some circulation into the arm, if she wasn't careful she would become a ragdoll soon. The man was a faster walker than expected with his brisk pace.
When he still remained silent she released a calming breath of air, "I swear on my honor not to flee or inflict any harm upon you should you grant me this request."
Before she could speak anymore of her honor Break started chuckling and the reaction caught her off guard. Break turned towards her, still walking, to reply in a teasing manner, "You construct elaborate lies, my lady," he then released her arm, " but I can tell you're not lying currently so I'll let go- but it's in your best interest to follow."
She rubbed a hand against her arm, wincing slightly at the touch. He stopped to turn towards her, pointing a finger at her, "Be warned, I am a generous man but should you try turning against me I will not hesitate in using my sword to remind you of my disposition as one of the king's men."
Lacie's face harden as she notice the man innocently drum his fingers against his saber's hilt, like he was discussing the weather instead of executing her.
"Is everything a game to you?" she snapped.
"Beg your pardon?" he questioned innocuously, turning to continue trekking down the hall.
The man had provided her an opportunity to flee but deep down knew that she would take the bait and follow him. She was a feisty little thing and when someone challenged her she wasn't the type to buckle under pressure.
Sure enough, the girl came running after him. (He was grateful since he was honestly too exhausted from the earlier battle to continue dragging her around).
"Don't try twisting logic to match your whims! I know you're playing mind games with me and it's aggravating. You state one thing but your actions say another," she was speaking heatedly and losing the point of her conversation. "I can't tell if you're going to be reliable or hack me into pieces, you're like a puzzle with pieces that don't match!"
"Dear girl, I think you spend too much time with your head in the clouds," he glanced at her and smiled sweetly at the absolutely riveting look of fury in those ruby eyes. "I am a simple working man trying to make a means in this world, you think too highly of me."
"Please, please, be quiet already," she groaned, rubbing a hand down her face. "Also, my name is-"
"Lacie," he stated calmly, "your reputation precedes you."
She gave him a look of confusion. He responded, "Lottie told the prince about Isla Yura's backhanded methods of dealing with the latest culprit and how there would be a guest coming to rescue him during the ill arranged 'trial.'"
"And since you're one of the prince's knights you were asked to-"
"I'm not a knight, but I have received sword training thanks to my father's interest in combats. No, I overheard the conversation," his voice trailed off and Lacie questioned how reliable these servants were at keeping secrets, "and asked to be let in the gig to see what my dear friend Reim's sneaking off had to do with the guest. I'm just a messenger with an extra set of skills not necessarily required in my line of work."
Thinking back she remembered Reim mentioning a partner that drove him mad and now understood what he meant.
"This castle is composed of imbecilic servants and lunatics isn't it?" she asked scornfully.
He shrugged, "Is your village composed of loudmouths and simpletons?"
The question made her quiet down but he could see her bristle under the comment. After a long pause she said with forced neutrality, "No."
"Then neither are we," he paused at a door. The door was ornate with several gemstones placed into the oak wood adjoining the doorframe. Above the door there was a carved angel with a blindfold over the eyes holding a scepter. Underneath the angel there was writing. She had to squint her eyes to make out the wording. "May all who enter leave as friends."
She turned to Break to look at him confusedly. He glanced up at what caught her attention, "Oh, this? The prior lord of the castle had a sense of humor, he claimed that whenever this room was used it seemed that someone always left in a huff."
The girl just stared at him blankly. He added, "The prior king was somewhat of a comedian- fine he was a bit of a old coot."
His response made her smile.
The man grabbed the gold doorknob and opened the door for her like a proper gentleman. Bowing, he said jovially, "Please have a seat in here, my lady. The others will be brought in shortly, also…"
He glanced down at her hands and back up towards her face, "There is a washbowl in the corner that you might want to take advantage of."
The inner voice within her head was spitting curses at him but she smiled courteously. Though she could feel her nose reddening in anger.
If he expected her to curtsey he was in for a rude awakening, but she did pat his shoulder affectionately- if the large thump could be consider such. "Thanks, Break. Shame that you won't take off your helmet so that I can see what you look like underneath."
There was something alien about the man and the helmet-with its strange shape and shading- made him seem more foreign and eccentric. Curiosity was always a killer for her. Since she was stuck in his company for the short time being she just wanted to see what the jester 'knight' looked like.
He pointed towards himself, "Well, for starters, I look like a human."
She scoffed.
"But since you asked so nicely and have been such a willing participant for the duration of your visit," the man said each word so frank with sarcasm she had to remind herself not to strangle him, "I can provide you this small token of my thanks. Just remember I'm a taken man."
The man's body began shaking as he released a thunderous laugh at the livid look shot his way. The girl's face darkened considerably and he could mentally picture her wishing for her knife back.
"I need to get out of this despicable institution or else I will be convicted of murder before long," she mumbled under her breath.
Break continued to laugh, unsnapping the helmet's buckles. "My wife often makes similar comments," he said in good humor. When he heard the last lock unsnap he dragged the helmet off and took an appreciative gulp of air as cool air met his sweaty face. The cold air made his warm skin feel feverish; involuntarily he shuddered.
Sparing a glance at the girl, as he rubbed an eye, he smirked at the look of shock. "Am I that unfortunate looking little wolf girl?"
The young woman slammed her gaping mouth shut in apology. "Your eyes…they're the same color as my own."
Lowering his hand he turned to inspect her face, sure enough her statement held true. "What do you know they are," he said dismissively.
"How can you remain so indifferent? You're the first person I've seen that also possesses these bloody eyes! And the only thing you say is- what do you know they are?" she mimicked his deeper tone with poor imitation. Although she did get his whimsical lingo down.
"Were you hoping for some form of world renowned recognition?" he inquired cheekily.
At the look of self-doubt clouding her eyes he decided to back down in challenging her since she seemed insecure. Why was she so concern about such a trivial thing as eye coloring? Eyes didn't define a person just like her clothing choices and gender weren't the only defining characteristics about her.
"Sorry, I didn't mean for that to come off as brusque as it sounded," he said humbly.
She shook her head, "You're fine, it's just…"
She wrapped an arm around herself, he noticed with quiet scrutiny. He knew that gesture- she was closing herself off from the world it meant.
Waiting patiently he allowed her the moment for introspection as she considered her words.
She laughed but there wasn't any humor to it. "The world hasn't been very kind to people with these colored eyes on the outside."
He sighed wearily. "I take it you have suffered injustices?"
The girl looked away at something in the distance before numbly nodding. Rubbing a hand through the back of his hair he started speaking to her in a fatherly tone, "People are cruel creatures to begin with and even if your eyes were a different color they would have found something else at fault with you."
The girl tensed considerably. A shy grimace overshadowed her stiff face and he decided to add in, with kind intentions, "Take this advice Lacie, don't ever allow another's opinion prevent you from doing the things you love because in the end you alone are the one who can determine whether or not you are happy."
The girl took notice of her defensive stature and dropped her arm and turned towards him with masked confidence. Shaking her head she gave him a crooked smile, "Do you give all enemies life counseling before meeting the royals?"
Break grinned at the question. Break was a few years older than her and had a few weary lines around his eyes. A jagged scar ran down his left eye she managed to see before his bangs covered the spot again. He had snow-white hair that almost reached his shoulders, which matched his porcelain skin perfectly. The man reminded her of a ghost, but she doubted ghosts to be so lively as this strange fellow. She couldn't determine if he was lanky or muscular since the armor tended to make all the men look the same. Humorously he wasn't that much taller than her so if the attempted head-butt earlier had been directed at him instead of the prince she would have had satisfying results. But nope, it was the confounded prince of eternal scowls that trapped her.
She could feel herself scowling and forced a blank face of neutrality. No, she refused to scowl because of the 'scowling' prince.
Break cleared his throat to regain her attention. She blinked before apologizing since she missed what he said.
"Once again little wolf girl, I don't treat enemies with the same courtesy. Unless you consider yourself an enemy of my lord?"
The young woman pretended to think about whether or not she was an enemy to the kingdom. Break raised an eyebrow in question at her silence. She spread her arms wide, "Despite popular belief I am a simple village girl wanting to return home with my brother and live my life without further complications. Your lord has nothing to fear besides, maybe, his pride being further damaged."
Break snorted, "I think you've already take any pride he had and tossed it to the wind, Lacie."
He turned to leave after she walked through the doorframe, but she called out to him. "Wait, Break, one last question."
The ruby-eyed man turned towards her with evident disbelief. She ignored the skeptical look, "Why do you call me little wolf girl?"
He gave her a cynical grin. "Oh your nickname? Back in my hometown I ran across a massive she-wolf that tried to maul my devilishly handsome face- earlier you bore an uncanny resemblance to the snarling she-wolf when I tried to prevent you from harming the master."
The flash of indignation did the jester knight in, he started chuckling, wiping a few stray tears away. "All right, all right, I jest! Truthfully, it's based on an old wives' tale about a young girl that dove right into the center of a battle between the alpha male wolf and her injured father. Legends claim the girl was so intense in her need to protect her father she forsake reason and fought like a beast. The wolf became so frightened by the girl's inner strength and animalistic struggle to live he backed down immediately."
At the look of puzzlement in her animated eyes he gave a lopsided grin, "I think I chose wisely for you."
She rolled her eyes, "So you give everyone nicknames I presume?"
"Only if I find the person interesting," he commented.
"Have I let you down?"
He looked up considering, before lowering his eyes to resume speaking, "Actually, I wasn't expecting much from a seemingly common stranger but you manage to prove me wrong."
Shaking her head she began to walk over to the chair he gestured for her to use when he stopped her. "Oh, and Lacie?"
She turned around.
"Keep proving others wrong."
The girl regarded him with a raised eyebrow. Finally, she gave him a warm smile, "Thank you, Break. And always remember to not expect the obvious."
They shared a friendly laugh before he closed the door quietly behind her.
As he had mentioned earlier there was a small bowl filled with steaming water, along with a rag, placed on a small table against the door. Happily she took the rag and began dunking it in the bowl, ringing the excess water out. The girl went about wiping off her face first before focusing on her hands. It took several attempts before she manage to look somewhat human again. Taking a small peek in the now murky water she was pleased with the outlook. Chancing a look down she decided to avoid her torn apparel; after the hellish day she had her outward appearance did not feel to be of substantial importance in the string of events.
Lifting her arms up she smiled as she felt each pop along her spine. The popping sounds were the only thing making noise in this too quiet room, luckily there were some birds chirping away merrily and free outside making her feel less restless.
The silent room was rather foreboding when alone she decided. The room was about the size of her cottage with lavish paintings of the countryside hanging on the walls along with extensive bookshelves on the two outer walls. She barely manage to stifle a childish squeal at the sight, she loved to read.
Running to one of the bookshelves she ran her finger against a bulky spine reading "The Ill Advised Contractor." The book looked to have been read several times with pages bent to hold marks.
Other books with finer covers and gold etched wording on the spines continued endlessly. But this weary cover gave a sense of familiar warmth as she remembered her mother reading her books with similar worn spines.
Closing her eyes, she smiled at the happy memory of the family sitting on the floor as her mother animatedly described princesses saving troubled princes and princes slaying dragons. Her eyes would never shift away during those moments but she could sense Oswald giving her an amused look at how enraptured she was with their mother's storytelling skills.
Cheshire would come over with his mother and listen in sometimes. He agreed with Lacie about how good her mother's stories were.
Opening her eyes she continue to smile serenely despite the impeding gloominess of the room. She couldn't wait to see Cheshire again. Maybe she would open up one of those stories and try mimicking her mother's storytelling habits.
It had been far too long since anyone had read a book in their household.
It was a time for change.
Running her finger against the spines she continue exploring the contents. Each shelf had been categorized based on genres. Strangely, the comedy section was composed of ten books while history and warfare had several shelves.
Finally growing bored she began inspecting the rest of the room. There was a table with numerous papers scattered about, upon closer inspection she realized it was a maps of the lands along with trading documentations. She noticed several angry sketches erratically done on one of the maps.
Jumping back she began scolding herself for being nosy. The kingdom's external affairs weren't any of her business.
Lacie walked over to the main table where a large chair with lion stylized arm rests seated on one side while there were three ordinary chairs on the other. Looking back and forth she question out-loud with amusement at how much turmoil would occur if she took the prince's seat of honor.
Shaking her head she sat down in the center seat, as Break requested, and waited for the others to join.
Seconds turn into minutes, and minutes felt like hours before boredom settle in.
Taking a quill on the table she lazily began doodling on a blank paper. The drawing was a crude imitation of the cottage but it was decent enough to recognize fields and livestock.
Looking up for a moment, an impish grin formed and she began drawing the castle's staff. Sticking a tongue out of the side of her mouth she went to work on getting all the minor details done.
She heard the door open as two people were led in but she didn't bother looking up.
The lively voice of Lottie broke her out of her reverie, "Now if you both would be so kind as to take a seat, the master will be in shortly."
Shifting in place, Lacie found Miranda, looking somewhat back to normal if not slightly put out, giving Lottie a look of displeasure. The red haired servant mustered all the dignity she could before stiffly walking over to sit to Lacie's left. The moment she sat down she crossed her arms and stared angrily ahead. Her stiff posture made Lacie decide to not bother her for the moment.
Reim, on the other hand, looked like he had aged several decades. His neatly comb hair was all disarrayed and his eyes were red from absolute exhaustion. His jacket, which he had taken great pride in keeping clean and orderly, was hanging limply from his clutch to drag against the floor. He had unbuttoned the top of his white shirt to reveal slightly tan flesh. Lacie didn't know a man could sweat so profusely as sweat seemed to flow like a stream from his pores.
Talk about a man who looked like he had been to hell and back.
If they were back home Lacie might have bought him a few jugs of beer from the local tavern.
Reim nodded vacantly before stumbling his way over to crash back against the chair. Letting his legs stretch before him endlessly he dropped his jacket over his waist before allowing his arms to hang down loosely. He kept his head down, Lacie wondered if he had dozed off.
The man's glasses had a small crack in them on the left lens.
Lacie kept looking back and forth between her 'companions.' One gave the air of murder if someone even dared to talk to her while the other looked like he had fallen into a coma.
Sighing she went back to mindlessly doodling. Neither party seemed interested in her hobby so she was left to her own devices.
A few scribbles here and a horn there- perfect. A tail here and antlers there- perfect. Don't forget to add eyes in Lacie!
Miranda broke out of her angry reverie to eye the drawing curiously. "What on Earth are you drawing?" she asked critically.
Lacie placed her hands over her masterpiece, waving the quill around. "It's not finished yet!"
Miranda huffed, rolling her eyes before returning to her past position of glaring at the window across from them. Was it sad to feel sorry for an inanimate object because Miranda was giving the object one scary look?
Internally, Miranda was at war with herself. In a few minutes she would either lose her life or home if found guilty of being in connections with the inquisitor's torture processions. And who would convict her? Of course, it had to be her best friend. Out of everyone in the castle to discover her secret life it had to be him.
Her angry glare intensified for new reasons.
Reim, intrigued by their discussion, lifted his head to stare at the limited amount of the drawing he saw hidden beneath Lacie's arm. An amused quirk overcame his face before he settled back down to rest.
Unlike Miranda, he was an outsider and unknowing accomplice to the matters of Miranda's private life as an executioner. There would be a scolding and some form of punishment but really he didn't have too much to fear. Or so he repeated in his mind. The longer they sat there the more willingly he decided to become a comatose messenger.
While the servants mentally began rebuilding their lives with downtrodden expressions Lacie continue to draw away. The task was keeping her mind from settling on depressing thoughts.
At some point the prince would return but for right now Lacie would just concentrate on drawing.
It was keeping her limited self-control from shattering into a tiny million pieces.
Author's Note: Sorry this was a filler chapter just to help tone things down. But TrunksLoneWarrioranimelove I think Isla Yura has suffered enough and deserves a trip to a sauna! Haha totally kidding, but I do find tormenting him amusing. Thank you to my dear reviewers TrunksLoneWarrioranimelove and DGtnsl and guest reviewer Yui. Love you all! I don't consider this a cliffhanger and hopefully none of my readers will also.