Cowards

Agatha rode in Albus' elegant carriage, expecting a lengthy journey, but soon realized they were heading towards a familiar path near the Slumber Shack. The home of Mr. Smith, the elderly man Albus had mentioned, was not far away.

Even as Albus and Mr. Smith's son discussed business matters, Albus remained by Agatha's side while she tended to Mr. Smith's condition. 

It became clear to Agatha why previous Alchemists had failed to cure Mr. Smith's ailment: he wasn't poisoned. His severe coughing had dried and sore his throat, and his entire body ached, leading others to assume he had been poisoned. However, Agatha quickly diagnosed the true issue: his lungs were damaged, and the body aches were simply due to his advanced age.

She treated Mr. Smith's lungs and prepared Ambrose Tea to ease his joint pain. While she couldn't halt the march of time, these measures would improve his quality of life.

To her astonishment, Agatha received two gold coins for her efforts—a sum far greater than she was accustomed to earning, even for more challenging tasks. This was the advantage of working for the wealthy: they could afford to pay generously for their peace and relief.

Despite completing her work, Agatha didn't leave immediately. It would be rude to depart while Albus was still engaged in conversation with Mr. Smith Jr., especially since Albus had helped her secure this job.

Mrs. Smith, with a warm smile, approached Agatha and handed her a freshly baked loaf of bread. They were in the expansive living room, waiting for Albus to finish his meeting.

"What's your name, by the way, Miss?" Mrs. Smith inquired.

"Agatha," she replied simply, returning the smile.

Agatha felt a pang of discomfort. One of the reasons she avoided working for the wealthy was their tendency to pry into the lives of their workers, driven by a desire to ensure they were not hiring anyone with ill intentions.

"So, are you a Water Fae?" Mrs. Smith asked, her eyes genuinely curious.

Agatha nodded, though she preferred not to divulge too much about herself.

Like Mr. Smith, his wife was also advanced in age, yet her timeless beauty was still noticeable. Her hair was entirely white, and wrinkles adorned her face, but her cute nose stood proudly along with her tiny red lips.

"If you don't mind," Mrs. Smith asked as she sat beside Agatha, "why are you residing here in Primotheus Capital?"

The Smith residence was elegant, filled with various decorations that screamed wealth. There were huge statues in the corners, and an expensive red carpet lay beneath them. A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling like stars.

Agatha cleared her throat. "I was born here," she said. "My parents were immigrants." She had practiced these lines so many times that they rang true as she uttered them.

Mrs. Smith asked a few more questions until Albus finished his business.

Once they were outside the Smith residence, having bid their farewells, Albus turned to Agatha.

"I know you're not comfortable being asked about your personal life," Albus said, concerned. "You should have just left and waited inside the carriage. Mrs. Smith and I would have understood if you said you were tired after treating her husband."

That had actually been Agatha's plan, but she was worried that Nysander might suddenly appear and take her. It felt safer to stay inside the house of a rich Metamorph, where Nysander would probably not risk causing trouble.

"It's okay," Agatha reassured Albus. "I managed to keep my secrets."

Albus laughed, shaking his head. "That's why Camilla didn't want to come here. Mrs. Smith asks questions like a detective…"

Agatha laughed heartily, picturing Camilla's frown as she tried to politely answer all the old woman's inquiries, likely ending up shouting or being disrespectful once her patience wore thin.

They were already on the scorching street when Agatha prepared to tell Albus that she wouldn't ride back with him in the carriage. The Slumber Shack was only a few meters away.

She was about to say her farewell when someone pulled her waist. A strong, firm arm snaked around her, pulling her body against his hard frame.

Agatha's eyes widened when she saw Liam, his forehead creased in fury. He had dark circles under his eyes but still looked ruggedly handsome with his sharp jaw and disheveled hair.

"What are you doing here?" Liam asked, his voice chillingly close.

It was Agatha's first time seeing him this close. The proximity of their bodies made her feel a tingling and pleasurable sensation as little currents surged through her.

A broken record played in her head, repeating the question Albus had asked earlier.

"Is he your Fate?"

Agatha asked herself the same.

But was that really true? Did the Fae really have the concept of Fate like other creatures of Quailsham?

Agatha had never heard anything about that, but now, with Liam standing in front of her, almost claiming her with his possessive stance, she couldn't help but wonder.

Did Liam truly have a Fate? Was it Lady Alexa? Or perhaps Princess Hiyasmin? Had Liam lied when he said he wasn't in a relationship? But what would he gain by lying to her about that?

Agatha cursed under her breath. What was she really thinking? She needed to get herself together and make her escape plan failproof.

"What are you doing here?" Agatha asked, trying not to stammer or show her confusion.

There was a pause. "Getting you back," Liam said, his deep, rough tone sending a shiver down Agatha's spine.

Agatha swallowed as Liam's grip tightened around her waist.

Then Liam turned to Albus with an arrogant stance and smirked. He stared at him from head to toe. "I see you've regained consciousness after I punched you in the face…"

Albus' eyes darkened as he straightened his posture. "You only managed to knock me out because I wasn't looking when you attacked."

He crossed his arms and leaned against the waiting carriage, looking at Liam and Agatha intently with a sly grin.

"I was looking at Agatha when you attacked me," Albus added. "And mind you, only cowards attack their opponents when they're not looking."

Liam scoffed. "That's called—"

"I call that frightened," Albus interrupted, his smile widening a bit.