The Problem with Professor Nicolas (4)

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

Jackson leaned in closer to whisper harshly at the man. He didn't want anyone catching any of this despite all the other customers looking inebriated.

One sentence said to the wrong person could turn this conversation into a serious crime.

This crime in particular, would get you hung by a rope in the main square.

"I don't know what kind of enhancer you got running through your newly commoner veins but I'm going to need you to rethink and reword that."

Nicolas blinked at the man's barely contained outburst. He had expected this reaction, but he didn't think Jackson would be so scared of the repercussions. Stupid people usually weren't scared.

As if reading his mind, Jackson scoffed.

"I might like money but I know where to draw the line. Working in the palace is like striking gold, I'm not doing anything that could jeopardize that... not too much at least."

Nicolas opened his mouth to argue but was cut off.

"Besides, it doesn't even look like you thought this through. I work on the lowest floors of the palace. How am I supposed to get up to the higher floors where the prince spends the majority of his time?"

"He isn't up there all the time, he regularly comes down for tutoring lessons and he is often seen in the gardens."

Jackson frowned at that.

"What about the maid that's always with him? Rumor has it that she undergoes daily training and is pretty strong."

Nicolas slammed his fist into the table. This back and forth was getting them nowhere. What was the point of devising a plan before the other party even agreed?

"It can all be discussed at a later time. Are you in or not?"

Jackson let out a breath as he stood from his chair.

"Not, but I admire your big dreams. Here, have a drink. Wake up tomorrow with a headache and a new perspective."

He reached into his coat and tossed a coin on the table.

Nicolas watched it twirl before settling onto its face. It was barely enough to buy a cup of ale. Cheap bastard.

"Utterly useless. High price is bound to yield high rewards. Bringing a person back to life will give him fame and riches till the day he dies."

Nicolas muttered to himself as he began to grip at his hair. Now alone at the table, his spiraling thoughts were beginning to eat away at him. Jackson was his final option. He wasn't sure where to go from here.

"Bringing a person back to life you say?"

Nicolas looked up to find a man standing there, hand rubbing against his chin in deep thought.

Dressing in a simple shirt and pants, he looked middle class at most. His long blue hair tied loosely fell over his right shoulder. Sharp, equally blue eyes trained themselves onto him.

Nicolas sat up in his seat. There was something about this man...

"It's impolite to eavesdrop."

"I couldn't help myself with you and the young man speaking on such interesting topics."

Nicolas stiffened, despite his nonchalant show in front of Jason, he also didn't want to get into any trouble. Couldn't exactly resurrect his dead wife if he himself was also dead.

"Relax, I have no intention of reporting you to authorities. In fact, I might be able to help you."

Nicolas eyed the mystery man for a moment, but his suspicion didn't last long. He really did need help and he would work with the sketchiest of characters if it gave him a chance to see Diana again.

So he told him, starting from the death of his wife and ending with his argument with Jackson. The man said not a single thing, never interrupting or even making faces at Nicolas. That was refreshing.

"Gather your things. We best leave."

Nicolas was quick to stand when the blue haired man did, but made no other move to follow him. A small part of him was still hesitant.

"Leave? And go where?"

"To see my employer, his name is Michael. He might be able to help you."

"What about you? What is your name?"

"Me? I'm the assistant of course."

- - -

"It's just a simple check in, possibly a removal order if anything gets interesting. Why are you going?"

Elric, a well respected, decorated senior knight looked over at his second in command.

"It is not the task itself but the man in question who should be taken seriously. Any sort of disrespect towards the Alfonsi crown is punishable by death. I believe the only reason the King didn't have him executed immediately is because we still have no knowledge on what he is really after."

"If there is nothing found at the house, at the very least it will be easier to keep track of him now that he is a commoner."

The second in command sighed.

"At least you get to go out. I haven't had a mission in months. All my skills will get rusty."

Elric blinked at the man, his short blonde hair brushing against his raised eyebrows.

"Would you like me to spar with you once I have returned?"

The man shook his head quickly.

"No, I'd rather not wake up black and blue again. Must be nice being His Grace's star pupil... well former star pupil."

The two turned to where Adam Kingsley was bent at the waist, holding his son's hand as the child marched forward.

The four of them were in the house armory. After Quentin begged to see it on several occasions, Adam finally allowed it so long as he promised not to touch anything without asking first.

Elric smiled at this.

"He has already begun to show an interest in swords."

The second in command made a face at the statement.

"At this age... weird, but not surprising. Considering that he's constantly surrounded by knights and his father is in charge of them all."

Elric turned to the door, another knight was to relieve him of his position soon.

"Just leave, I can see you getting antsy."

"Will you be fine by yourself?"

"What do you take me for huh? We're only on these duties because there's been a lower crime rate. If I can take on criminals, I can do this."

Elric let out a huff and quietly left the room. Originally a small group of knights were supposed to make sure Nicolas had vacated the residence but not long after, the job was passed to him.

Despite his higher status and closeness to Duke Kingsley he wasn't aware of much. All he knew was that the Prince was special in some way, and Nicolas had gotten his hands on potentially sensitive information.

He had been on such missions before, the most recent being to locate the King's concubine... though he ultimately failed.

His only objective was information, and he was allowed to use force if necessary.

That made him smile. Elric did love this peacefulness but he could tell the knights used to more activity were becoming restless.

He wasn't above such emotions either. He sincerely hoped Nicolas would provide some sort of challenge. Elric would not come back empty-handed a second time.

Back in the armory Adam was showing his son the ancient swords his great-grandfather used. These blades were pinned to the wall and encased.

"Dad, what about your swords?"

Adam looked down at the twin blades resting on either side of his hip. They were never far from his reach and were one of the most prized possession among all the blades the Kingsley family owned.

"These have been in the family for a very long time. Later on, they'll become yours."

Quentin held out his hands expectantly. Adam wondered where he got such a blunt personality from.

He reached out to flick the seven-year-old's forehead gently, only for his son to give him a scolding look.

"I said later on, preferably after you've mastered sword arts and magic."

"But you won't even let me hold a wooden sword."

"It's still too heavy for you, besides your mother would end us both if she found out I let you so much as touch one."

The two males looked at each other and seemed to come to a silent agreement. 

The Duchess Angelica Kingsley was not one to be trifled with. Along with being five years Adam's senior, she was also the commander of her own group of knights.

"Magic is very pretty."

Adam watched as his son nodded to himself with a serious look on his face.

"What makes you say that."

"I saw the prince bring flowers back to life at the palace. It was beautiful. What kind of magic is that?"

Adam blinked before a stern look crossed his features. He knelt before his son and gripped his shoulders.

"Quentin, you must keep that a secret, do not tell such things to anyone. As a matter of fact, it is better if you forget that entirely."

"Why?"

"It's a complicated adult problem I can't say. Just promise me?"

Quentin was torn, on the one hand he wanted to listen to his father and never speak of or think of that scene again. On the other hand he didn't think he could, the image of the white haired boy making flowers bloom was really cool to him.

"...Okay, I promise."

It should be fine if he kept it to himself.

Right?