The Animosity

TO MOST, WYATT Ragan could be seen as a peace-loving man. He always smiled, was polite to his seniors and those at a higher rank than he was, and knew more charming words than the dictionary even dared to write. However, it seemed like when it came to Prince Spade, Wyatt knew no manners. He was snide, cold, and even rude on the occasion. Yet, after Alice had inquired Spade's reason for Wyatt's dislike of him, she seemed to understand better why Wyatt was the way he was.

However, that did not stop her curiosity from hearing the words from Wyatt himself. A part of Alice even wanted to find out if Wyatt would deny it all the way.

"Was that necessary?" Alice asked, wrinkling her nose.

They were already safe from the torrential rain, safely tucked under the shelter of the carriage. The road ahead of them was much safer than the path she and Hartley had taken that led to the accident. As such, she wasn't too worried about her safety.

Wyatt was flipping through the pages of a book, silently reading it. In her head, the image of Hartley doing the exact same thing moments before disaster overlapped with the visage of Wyatt. These noblemen seemed to always be busy, constantly flipping through endless papers, scouring through infinite paragraphs. When she spoke, he finally looked away from the words.

"Whatever do you mean?" Light danced in Wyatt's eyes. Despite his words, Alice knew for a fact that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Your animosity towards Spade. Was it really necessary?"

Using one gloved hand, Wyatt pressed the book shut. Ever so calmly, he tucked it back into his briefcase, carefully securing it before even parting his lips to speak. Alice had caught a glimpse of the title Wyatt was reading before he had it kept, the familiar gold, block letters ringing a memory that seemed like it was from a long time ago.

'The Theory of Magic. Volume III.'

"I am sure you've already heard it from His Highness Prince Spade, Alice, but he and I don't really see eye to eye," Wyatt started to speak. He interlocked his fingers, placing them over his lap. "Prince Hartley and Prince Spade are two sides of the same coin, two brothers with one purpose. That purpose is to rule Gladiolum as the future king when His Majesty steps down. As Prince Hartley's aide, it is only natural that Prince Spade is, unfortunately, an enemy of mine. The chances that the accident that day was orchestrated by him remains awfully high. There's been no evidence to pin it on anyone, of course, but he is still the prime suspect."

"It doesn't seem like you two are just disagreeing on politics, though," Alice pointed out. "You have something personal against him. And before you say that I am being biased, I, too, think that he has something against you personally."

This time, Wyatt smiled. Again came that pleasant smile that was so handsome but so plastic.

"Yes. Beforehand, there weren't many things that would cause His Highness and I to interact," Wyatt admitted. "However, recently, it seems like the competition between us and the rivalry of our factions have long grown past mere political differences."

"Such as?"

Instead of replying, Wyatt merely enigmatically smiled. He chose not to reply, opting to change the topic instead.

"Since you've spent some time with His Highness in the market, there's no doubt that he already informed you of the upcoming ball?"

Alice wrinkled her nose. Of course, Wyatt had resorted to his slick old ways. Thankfully for him, Alice was curious but not to the extent of risking her life. As the saying went, 'curiosity killed the cat'. She wasn't prepared to die anytime soon, especially not after she had just survived a carriage accident in an alternate world.

"He did mention it, yes." Alice nodded her head. "It's to celebrate Hartley's recovery, isn't it? And also to sift out…"

"Yes." Immediately, Wyatt nodded. There wasn't a need for Alice to finish the sentence. He knew exactly what she was going to say. After all, he was one of the masterminds behind the upcoming celebration. "You'll be under protection during this time. Although we're sure that the culprit was after His Highness's life, we can't immediately rule out the slim possibility that someone wants you dead."

"Me?" Alice echoed, eyes wide with surprise. "I'm just a nobody."

At her words, Wyatt laughed. His laughter was almost sarcastic, mocking Alice for her adorable naivety.

"On the contrary, Alice, you've made quite a name for yourself in the noble circle. I can already think of a handful of women that would want you six feet under," he mused. "The display of fury they've put on during Prince Hartley's tea party was… amusing, to say the least."

"How wonderful," Alice deadpanned.

"You don't have to worry, my dear," Wyatt assured. "Charlie and Miles will be there as well. They'll keep an eye out for you."

"What about you?" She asked, her fingers clenching the fabric of her skirt tightly. "What will you be doing?"

"Do you miss me already, dear Alice?" Wyatt asked, feigning surprise. When Alice offered nothing more than a roll of her eyes, Wyatt laughed. His voice, despite the superficial words he often spoke, was pleasant to the ears. "As much as I would love spending time with you at the ball, I'm afraid I'll have to stand guard at His Highness's side. We're not sure if the culprit will attempt at his life again and it's better to be safe than sorry."

"And what if no one does anything during the ball?" Another question slipped from Alice's lips. "It is a ball. With the number of participants present, it will be hard for anyone to go undetected. Only an idiot would try something so large-scaled."

"If everything goes smoothly and no one dies, then I suppose all we'll have is a wonderful evening that will forevermore stay in our memories," came Wyatt's answer.

Resting a hand on Alice's head, he gently smoothed down the wet locks of her hair. The dry towel that rested on Alice's shoulders had long turned damp. Removing it, Wyatt replaced the old one with a fresh, dry towel. He used the ends of it to squeeze out the remaining rainwater from Alice's hair.

"We'll get you home soon, Alice," he said. "For now, rest well."