Worse People to Lie Beneath (1)

I returned to my home distracted with the day's earlier events. Could I have been hallucinating? But no matter how I questioned, it was undeniable—that person's eyes were identical to mine. And that strange feeling…? I could not have imagined that as well. Thousands of questions ran through my mind, like where did that person come from? How did he disappear right before my eyes? Where did that sense of familiarity come from? Had I met him before? I shook off the thought. There was no way that I would forget a person like that. Impossible. I pushed these thoughts out of my head and decided to focus on something less mysterious, like the Kingdom of Nivonia. Grabbing the maps and books, I began to read.

Meanwhile…

In a courtyard on the outskirts of the central marketplace, a young man stepped out of his luxurious carriage. Although the red imprint had faded considerably, it was still present on the young man's dark face. He had not gotten over the insult. No, in fact, as time passed, he only became that much angrier. "Hurry up and get the scar cream for His Honorable One!" One of his trusted servants barked at the maid who had just opened the door.

"Greetings—uh…oh, yes, right away," she faltered after catching sight of her young master's face. She quickly left the opening of the door to the returning servants and rushed to get the health kit. On her way to the cabinet, she beckoned another servant over and requested for him to bring an ice pack to their master. The maid hurriedly completed her task, scared that the young master's ire would be directed at her.

Meeting him in the lounge, she handed the medicine over to the servant standing next to Symounde and immediately stood aside as the head of the household strolled into the room.

"Son, I heard you had returned, were you able to speak with—" Viscount Janequin looked at his son's face and his once pleasant tone changed. "Who did this to you?" Not allowing his son to answer, he turned towards the person who was supposed to keep an eye on him. "Orson," his voice continued to drop. "What happened?"

Orson Nader was Symounde Hugues' most reliable servant and protector. He had been by the young man's side since he was the age of five. It was rumored that he was once a knight to the king but for some reason abandoned his post to come work for the house of Viscount Janequin. Although the Hugues' were considered upper echelon within the noble families, they were not royalty. Regardless of his reasons for joining them, he became the most trusted attendant within the household. The middle aged man fell to his knees. "Viscount Janequin, I have been careless. Please punish me. I was not with Your Honorable One during his time of need and neglected my duties to keep him safe from harm."

It was true that Orson had stepped away from the party during the altercation. Symounde had requested for him to close out a tab at the restaurant where they had eaten. However, instead of waiting for him, Symounde, with the rest of his attendants, decided to walk through the town's square. By the time Orson had caught up to them, Symounde's face was already burning from the slap. Ashamed, the young man refused to open his mouth again regarding the incident. He had decided to get his revenge another day. For now, he wanted to sort out his feelings. Sure, he was angry that some woman had the audacity to publicly humiliate him, even worse, harm his person, but he also found her boldness a breath of fresh air from the usual delicate flowers that he came across; and her cold eyes quite mesmerizing. He wouldn't mind seeing them again as she laid beneath him. He would make her pay one way or another. For now, he needed to control his emotions and gather information. To do this, his first needed to appease his father's worries.

"Father, I don't want to talk about it. I will handle it myself." Viscount Janequin looked carefully at his son. Besides the mark on his face, there didn't appear to be anything else wrong with him. The mark was clearly from the slap of a woman. His eyes darkened. There was no woman alive who could disgrace his son and live to tell the tale. As Viscount Janequin Hughes, he would not let this go unpunished. However, a man is a man and must be responsible for his own affairs. So, for now, he decided to let him be.

"Fine." He nodded in agreement. Turning towards the person holding the medicine, he threatened, "No scars." Those two words were filled with the full force of his anger.

"Yes, Your Honorable One. Of course, sir." The young man stuttered.

"Orson follow me." With that, the two men walked out the room without looking back.

"Your Honorable One, are you ready for the cream now?" Symounde signaled for the ice pack to be removed from his face. As the previous young man moved towards him, he shook his head.

"No, not you." He pointed towards the young maid who greeted him back at the entrance. "You. Come here. You will take care of it. The rest of you may leave." Everyone rushed to follow his orders. Soon the only people left in the room were the young maid and Symounde. He looked at the young girl and realized he didn't recognize her. Maybe she was new. He didn't really pay attention to the servants within his home and didn't build many close relationships with any of them either. Except for his direct attendants and Orson, none of the others mattered. He probed the girl's body. She was average height and thin. 'I guess she is kind of pretty if one were into commoners.' "Girl, what's your name?"

"Your Honorable One, my name is Matilda." She peeked up at him with shy eyes. She could feel the intensity in which he inspected her body. Her ears reddened.

"Too long. I will call you Tilda."

"If it is your desire, Your Honorable One."

Satisfied with her answer, he added. "Tonight, you will please me. Prepare properly." This statement surprised the young maid. She had not given herself to anyone, was she supposed to lose her virginity to her master's son? Had he taken a liking to her? She really couldn't understand this peculiar situation. Tilda stared at the powerful young man before her. He could be called the most handsome man of his generation. His blonde hair hung loosely around his face. He had a strong jawline with a straight nose. His eyes were a golden color that seemed to have a darkness shining through the light. He was tall and his figure was nice. 'There were worse people to lie beneath.' She gently rubbed the medicine on his face as she thought about things to come.