a lion’s hunger (2)

As the afternoon wore on, and the sun slipped towards the horizon, the countryside changed remarkably.

Starting with a few isolated trees, the land quickly became forested with wide oak trees. Many had already shed their leaves, leaving only skeletal arms raised towards the heavens; but others still bore honeyed, brass-colored leaves that were so distinctive of the Lombrass region—and the origin of the Duchy's name.

The relatively flat land began rising into a series of undulating hills, broken by valleys where rich soil permitted the Duchy to harvest grapes and produce fine vintages of wine enjoyed all throughout Sidralis. Away in the distance, Damian saw a manor atop the tallest hill—the Lombrass' family manor, and the seat of the Duchy's power. At the base of these hills, still some hours away, would be their first destination: Aerissia, the largest city in Lombrass.

"It's so pretty…"

Tia slid into the seat opposite Damian, her soft murmur directed towards the window and the vista beyond. She had pulled her blonde hair back into a loose ponytail, and the dark shadows beneath her eyes spoke to the stress of the day before.

"In another week or two, it'll probably start snowing. It gets quite cold out here, but in Aerissia, they hold their own version of Firelight, and drink mulled wine all through the night."

Damian wasn't sure why he was telling Tia this. 

He simply felt the need to talk about anything and everything except the one thing they hadn't yet discussed. He desperately wanted to ask her about Morgan Blackbriar, but when he saw the red marks on her arm, and the tiredness in her eyes, he found the question dying on his lips.

She'll tell me when she's ready. Until then, there's only one Tia I know—Tia Alessia. And she's never done anything to deserve my distrust.

"I'd love to see that," Tia said quietly. Her usual, charming bubbliness was missing, replaced by melancholy. "Do you think we'll be staying in Lombrass long enough for Firelight?"

Damian lapsed into silence for a moment. He glanced around to see if Nicholas was listening into their conversation, but the marquis was engrossed in discussion with his Priests several seats away.

"It depends on what the Duke wants with me," Damian said, lowering his voice.  "Duke Lombrass is a difficult man at the best of times, and a cunning fox at all others. I struggle to believe he's sheltering us without an ulterior motive. That said, we have the logistical problem of Firelight to deal with, too."

Firelight was the yearly celebration of the Angel of the Flame—a religious festival to honor the Flame on the darkest night of the year. The Angel of the Deep, which gained power in shadow and darkness, was considered to be the strongest at each Firelight, and thus, adherents of the Flame lit great braziers throughout the night, praying to the Flame to deliver them safely to dawn.

"Whether the Collective are behind my father's murder or not, the fact remains that Apostles have attacked me twice. Someone connected to the Deep is out for blood—and if they're going to plan another attack, Firelight would be a prime opportunity to catch me unawares."

Tia nodded along with Damian's words, a distant look settling into her gaze. She hung her head, fidgeting restlessly. She'd chewed her fingernails down to the quick, he realized.

"Listen, about my fath—"

"—Not here."

Damian cut her off. He reached out and placed a hand over hers, and she looked up, surprised. An unspoken question rose in her beautiful green eyes, and Damian squeezed her hand tightly, lowering his voice to a bare whisper.

"The less people who know the truth, the better. Whatever you have to say, you can say it to me in private."

Damian put as much emphasis on his words as he dared, sending furtive looks over Tia's shoulder the whole while. Thankfully she seemed to grasp the urgency of his words and nodded, falling silent.

A little while later, as the afternoon wore into evening, the train's staff provided light refreshments—sandwiches and tea. According to Nicholas, they'd be able to sup properly when they reached the Lombrass Manor.

Damian was unashamedly looking forward to a decent meal.

The remainder of the journey took place with some brief conversation, but for the most part, it was a sombre affair. Damian wasn't in the mood for idle chatter—he was restless, and the longer he sat there, the more agitated he became. 

He couldn't sleep, he couldn't even close his eyes without seeing his father's body impaled against Rossheim Palace. His mind wouldn't stop turning over the scarce few pieces of information he had, trying to piece the fragments together.

As night settled over the countryside, and the inky expanse of the starless heavens stole over the world, a sudden realization came to Damian—one that was so obvious in hindsight that he wanted to smack himself in the forehead.

What if the Apostle attacks were separate incidents?

When they'd been attacked on the bridge—when Dominic had heroically sacrificed himself to protect Damian, and died a gruesome death at the hands of the enemy—Damian hadn't been their only target. The Apostles had attacked Lynn and Tia, too—not just singling out any particular person.

Yet when the safe house was compromised, the Apostles had deliberately kept Damian away with the intention of kidnapping Tia and taking her back to Morgan Blackbriar. Whether she was supposed to be bait for Damian, he couldn't tell; regardless, their actions had been notably different.

And that leads us back to the missing Ninth Seat of the High Table.

Days ago—almost a week, now—the Ninth Seat of the High Table had gone missing. Charged with overseeing the Apostles in Tenebrae, the Ninth's disappearance was cause for concern—there was no doubt in Damian's mind that the events were connected.

Still, that line of thinking didn't lead Damian any closer to the truth behind his father's murder.

Frustrated, he stared out the window, trying to ignore his own reflection in the glass.

***

It was almost nine o'clock when the train finally pulled into Aerissia Station.

"My back is killing me," Tia complained loudly. She stretched like an old man, groaning and grumbling with that commoner-style attitude Damian was getting rather familiar with. 

Aerissia Station was surprisingly large and well-maintained, fashioned out of red brick and brightly lit by Flame-blessed lamps. The party was greeted by a detachment of soldiers and Priests from the Duke's private army, the Oakshields. The soldiers all wore yellow livery with the Lombrass emblem—fittingly, an oak tree—on their breasts. The Priests, naturally, were garbed in traditional white robes, with iron chains around their necks.

The foremost soldier snapped out a smart salute as Nicholas disembarked at the head of the party.

"Your Grace! Captain Montgomery of the 5th Leaf Corp reporting for escort duties, sire!"

"At ease, Captain."

"Very good, Your Grace. I hope your journey was a pleasant one, sire."

"Indeed it was. Any news to report?"

"Your Lord Father wishes to see you at once, sire. Your guests have had their rooms prepared, security has been tightened, and a feast awaits you. Say the word and we'll depart for the manor at once."

Nicholas turned back to the party with a smile on his face—a genuine smile that Damian hadn't seen in years, since he'd last visited the Lombrass household. It was the type of smile one wore when returning home.

"The air smells so much cleaner out here," Tia remarked, as if sensing Damian's mood. "I can smell… trees, and nature, and the markets. Oh, I really want to go visit the markets, Damian!!"

"His Highness' schedule will be decided once we've regrouped and assessed the security in Lombrass."

Lynn coolly rebutted Tia, a frosty expression on her face. She placed a heavy emphasis on Damian's royal address, as if rebuking Tia for the special permission Damian had granted her.

Tia turned wide, puppy-dog eyes on Damian.

"Just a little walk through the markets, please?!"

"Lynn's right," he sighed. "I'm sorry, but we need to be careful."

Tia puffed out her cheeks and pouted like a child, which brought a much-needed chuckle to Damian's lips. Lynn scowled and turned away crossly.

"If we're all done with the comedy routine…?"

Nicholas swept an arm towards the station's exit. Mollified, Damian led his party to the cars waiting outside. They were military vehicles, likely the only automobiles available in Lombrass, since Priests were harder to acquire out in the countryside. 

Nicholas' and his retinue were split into two cars, while Damian and the two women were able to squeeze into one. Damian had Lynn on his left, and Tia on his right. The young maid had definitely pushed herself over a little, her breasts rubbing up against his arm, distracting him for the ten-minute drive up to the manor.

Upon exiting the cars, they found themselves outside a wide, sprawling mansion. It was hard to tell just how large the manor was in the dark, since there were only a few Flame-blessed lamps outside, but from the number of windows lit up against the inky night, the manor was definitely on the larger side.

"I see the Duke is living his best life."

Lynn muttered to Damian, keeping her voice to a bare whisper. He nodded slowly, saying nothing in return. Now they were finally here, his anxiety was kicking into high gear. He curled his hands tight, the Rosa Regalia digging into the flesh of his palm.

"Come, everybody," Nicholas said, offering his best attempt at a welcoming smile. "For the time being, consider my home your own. Let us refresh ourselves and then eat—you must all be famished."

Inside, the manor was even grander than Damian remembered, with a marble-floored lobby lit by a blazing chandelier. A head butler and several staff members met the group, all bowing gracefully to Damian and the Marquis in turn.

"My father is likely in his study, but I am certain he'll be present for dinner."

Nicholas explained the situation as he shrugged off his overcoat and passed it to a butler. His eyes drifted to a sudden presence in the lobby, and he smiled wide, his scarred cheek crinkling.

"Sister. How lovely of you to remove yourself from your quarters and greet your guests. I see His Highness' company is sufficient to distract you from your novels."

Astrid Lombrass, second-born of Duke Lombrass, quietly entered the lobby. 

She was Damian's second-cousin, and objectively beautiful, with curly brunette hair and green eyes so bright they shone like emeralds. She wore a simple dress with a frilled hem, and it was clear she'd had her maids apply makeup to darken her pale complexion.

"Y-Your Highness, I-I'm so glad you could make it," Astrid stammered, curtsying before him. "M-my condolences on your f-father's passing…"

"Thank you for your kind words. I'm grateful you and your family could offer us aid in such difficult times."

And then, in a rather unexpected move, Astrid dashed forward and wrapped Damian in a hug. Taken aback, he simply stood there, his arms outstretched, as Astrid wrapped her arms over his neck and pressed her mouth close to his ear.

So close together, her sweet perfume—roses and sandalwood—was intoxicating, and her hot breath against his ear sent shivers down his spine. 

Her next words gave him another chill, one that reached his very soul.

"—Damian, please save me."