Chapter 39

I wasn't sure what to say at all as I glanced from Cain, who impatiently awaited an answer, and the Baron, who gave me an apologetic look but somehow still shamelessly pleaded me not to tell the truth.

I could think up a dozen excuses, but regardless I was still scared. Terrified that I might say the wrong thing and find myself at the starting point of my relationship with Cain.

"I'm sorry, Master Cain. It was above my station to be called by my name" I wasn't sure what reaction I had planned for or what I would get, but judging by the reaction, I spoke the wrong words.

Cain face continued to glower. He turned a sharp glance to me, evidently unpleased. Fingers digging into my arm.

Usually, I would await my punishment, but it was different now. Cain didn't want my servitude. He wanted my friendship.

"No", I shook my head at him, "that was wrong. Sorry, Cain, I wanted to familiarise myself with your friends. I heard you were close with the Baron"-

"Zebs", the baron corrected only to be silenced by a sharp glare from Cain.

"I didn't realise you wouldn't be pleased".

His face softened. At least towards me. The hold around my shoulders loosened into a half hug, and for a moment, he leaned towards my neck and rested his head there.

I get his gaze on my face and could only glance towards him as he breath touched my shoulders, warming them in the morning chill.

"You should come to me if you have any enquiries about me. I wouldn't refuse your presence, but I think I told you well", his arms suddenly felt suffocating as his voice lowered, "I want no one to touch you. However it may be".

I wanted to gulp down on the thick lock of spit collecting in my dry throat. My legs were trembling at his closeness. At the sword that occasionally brushed my side.

Baron Zebedia watched closely. Interest broiling in his eyes as he saw the cold Cain somehow acting like a dog on a leash for a girl who looked less than… remarkable. And the girl didn't even realise she held a leash that many would kill for.

The empires brightest star, far outshining any prince or princess royalty had to offer, was at the beck and call of a slave. A slave worth more than a palace.

"Zebs", Cain straightened up and turned to his supposed friend, "restrain from touching what's mine from now on. If I catch you again, then I'm afraid your secrets will be compromised", the sinister threat aimed at the doctor seemed to register clearly in his eyes, and he nodded with a smile.

"We both have secrets to keep", was all he said as he tipped his head and waved a hand goodbye, "as my business here ends for today, I bid you farewell. Forgive my rudeness my lady, but we both answer to the same man".

Cain nor the Baron had mentioned that the Baron was a magic-user. Rare as they come and even rarer to be well versed in its arts. So when he vanished , as he waved, I was the only one grasping at straws in trying to figure out what happened.

"He-He disappeared?!" I had lost complete composure.

Cain looked at the shell shocked expression and had laughed. It was the first time I had heard it in a long while, but I didn't get a chance to notice it with the shock of Zebediahs disappearance still unanswered.

"He's a mage, Bella" he patted my head as his chuckles calmed.

"A mage?" I replied in wonder, still starting at the spot he once stood.

"Yes. Like the hero Kendrick", Cain's voice full of childhood nostalgia made me stop for a moment as I heard a name I hadn't heard for a while.

"Was he also a mage?" I asked.

"Did you not pay attention to his tales?" he asked in surprise.

His surprise wasn't shocking.

When the empire was suddenly overwhelmed by an influx of demonic beasts from the North, many believed it was the end of the Empire. Thankfully, the Duke's fief is in the South, so the distance was large enough for the damage to not even reach us, but if I recall something from that time, it was that everyone was terrified.

The reason I didn't care much for the demonic invasion was that my mother had become severely ill during this time. I was busy fretting about her health and taking care of Angela, who seemed to be in tears every other day, so when people spoke of the great knight fighting off the demons, I couldn't have cared less.

"I must have forgotten", I replied to him.

He rolled his eyes at me and held his arm out to me, much like Zebiah except, he didn't give me a choice. I would follow his will. Always.

So I did just that. I was taking his arm with a lot less reluctance than I did the Barons.

The garden seemed to bloom in his presence, or maybe he completed the garden. He made it appear more refine than it already was. Either way, I felt strangely content walking with him in the parks.

Suddenly, we were children again. Young. Innocent. Happy.

He sat down on the bench that was crafted by an artist who was once smitten with the duchess and made her the bench as a gift. Although his love for her was only gossip, many believed the story because of how beautiful he made the bench.

I had never dared sit on it. Cain hadn't ever while his mother was alive. But after she had passed he knew the bench was his. Passed down to him as an inheritance.

He tugged at me to sit by him and hesitantly, I obeyed.

I leaned my head against his shoulder, taking notice of his flinch but deciding to ignore it. He eventually relaxed enough for my head to feel more comfortable as we sat on the comfortable outdoor furniture.

"Why did the hero have such a common name?" I suddenly asked, destroying the peaceful silence among us.

"He didn't", Cain answered without hesitation, "the name became popular after his fame. Did you not pay any attention? Mother used to rave about him".

"I didn't it seems" I didn't hide the melancholy in my voice.

The only thing I recalled from that time was my mother's screams of pain. Her mindless abuse. The pain of watching her deteriorate.

"That was mindless of me. I'm sorry I forgot", Cain quickly remembered, squeezing my hand to comfort me.

I looked to his large hands, completely enveloping my smaller ones. They were well kept and calloused altogether—the hands of a proper nobleman. I placed my other hands over it to reassure him that I was okay.

"It's fine. It was so long ago".

"But you never forget".