Thud of Discomfort

*Present Day

One could hear his teeth gnashing in anger as he caught the hand of the Baroness as she tried to strike one of his footmen once more. Allan slumped in surprise, taken aback by the sudden attack and at the same time, afraid for his life from offending a royal. A lot of people had paid for their life from offending one, and he'd witnessed one from his time back in the slums. It happened for a silly reason. Though it was nothing of an offense but the mere insecurity of that certain snob, ironic. That man was nothing but a victim. A man in the wrong place and time. It was soul shattering being not able to do anything back then. Now, with his meager status, he had promised to himself to protect every person under his care with all of his abilities, if they are not in the wrong.

"Please spare me, Baroness," It was what Allan said, bowing his head in defeat, shoulders shivering in fear. They might be used to him being a kind lord but he is of commoner status, he knows the hardship they have gone through and he lived that life, so the compassion was ther. Whereas the baroness is of nobility, royalty.

"No member of the peerage would spare your useless life–" And those words made Nicholas grab the Baroness on her arm and dragged her away from Allan.

"How unmannered, unhand me right this instance, you brute!" The screeching woman turned her anger to him. He did not mind it a little. He'd rather suffer her anger than his attendants. He can take whatever she dish out.

"Let me go!" The sweet, flirtatious voice was long gone and was replaced with the cold, resentful voice.

He kept dragging the lady until they almost reach the gated entrance of the manor. A little more and he would have his fragile peace back.

If he could toss her right out of the land it would be much preferable.

"I said unhand me!" The screaming was too much so he wasn't paying her attention, and because he wasn't giving her ridiculous display any attention, he did not see the attack coming.

Slap.

Ringing.

He could hear his ears ringing from the slap.

Almost in pace with a snail, he turned his head to Astrid's direction, molten ice spewing out of his gaze as he tried to stare her down to compliance. How he wished it was that easy.

Anyhow, the slap did nothing but irritate him more. It ignited his desire to just toss her out all the more. The hissing woman did not flinch and pulled her arm away from his grasp. He let her go.

"I won't let you swing your arm around out of silly reasons and hurt my attendants. Get out of my property, don't make me say it twice," He gritted, meeting the vivid greens in front of him with finality.

"You can't do this to me! I'm Astrid Clermont!" She yelled, cheeks reddening in anger. Her hands were tightly clenched on her sides.

"Trust me, Princess, I can, and you are right. I'm glad you said it yourself. You are a Clermont and not a Krona. You are not welcome anywhere in my land. Out," He gently pushes her out of the gated entrance.

Nicholas saw how she tried to formulate her thoughts. Totally losing the collected composure she displayed earlier. "I am still your wife!" She shrieked once more, seemingly satisfied with the reason she came up with.

"Barely," He plastered a patronising smirk on his lips.

"You were not listening to me, Princess. The divorce is a stamp away from fruition. It would be done this week or a fortnight, and I am not going to house you within those days. Lead yourself out of my land or I'll do it for you," Threatening was beneath him but he already knew that dealing with the woman in front of him was something sacrosanct, you can't limit yourself. Stooping down low was expected.

Now, Astrid's eyes were betraying the bravado she was wearing on her face. He already knew that Beale disowned her and the old King won't even come to her rescue. She was on her own.

Silence ensued, and he decided not to spend more time arguing with her. So he turned around ready to leave the woman to her own devices.

He was already steps away when he heard her small voice, "I-I got nowhere to go," It might have been said in a small voice but the defiance in it was unmistakable. The admittance might have taken some of her noble ego.

"I am missing the part where it is my problem, Princess," Another patronising smile. "Go on," He made a display of shooing her away with his hand before pivoting away from her.

It was a surprise but he spotted Lawrence a few yards away. The old butler was prompt with his movements and he did not need to look back to know what the loyal man did. The resounding clang of the wrought iron gate was an answer enough.

~

Bertha Moore, his headmaid, was looking at him nonstop since he shut the gates on the Baroness' face. Her stares were unnerving, he knew her enough and he should not cross her any longer.

He dropped his quill, frustratedly rubbing the back of his head.

"About time, you have been writing squiggly lines for a long while that I am starting to doubt the knowledge I obtained during my entire existence," She paused.

"The coach that drove the Baroness left," Mrs. Moore added.

"Good riddance," He replied, failing to understand what the head maid was trying to imply.

With a grim face, Mrs. Moore glanced at the darkening sky outside of his small study chamber. "The coach left without her in it. It left right away the moment the Baroness alighted from the conveyance, my lord," she said in a matter-of-fact way.

The discomfort creeping on his nape from Mrs. Moore words were unwelcome. The implications of having a sheltered noble out in the open was quite alarming. Though he doubted his people would let a woman jaunt around with no escort under the night sky.

"She can stay in the nearest inn,"He doubted his own words.

Mrs. Moore's eyebrows hitches as she watches him in dismay. "She is not from around this place. Also, you are aware of the spectacle the Baroness displayed earlier, my lord,"

A groan of frustration was peeled from him as certain consequences started aligning altogether inside his head. All of these said consequences greatly outweighed the positive ones.

"Please, have Greg ready my horse, Bertha," He found himself saying after a little musing. A humming of approval was sent his way.

"It has been prepared a long while, my lord," Mrs. Moore stated and it was his turn to raise his eyebrows at the loyal maid. Bertha is always one step ahead of everyone else, even Lawrence would admit it so.

Massaging the bridge of his nose, he grabbed a coat from the coat shelf and begrudgingly left the safety of his study. Mrs. Moore was silently following him.

"I'd arranged a room for the Baroness in the inn. I'll take my dinner in my room after I'm done with my business," he instructed the old woman. Another hum of approval was sent his way as he trudged down the curve stairs leading to the entrance of the manor.

"Let's hope she finds her way to the inn, and not around the nearest woods," he mumbled to himself, easily spotting Raven, the sole black stallion he owns.

The animal neighed his acknowledgement upon seeing his owner, eyes sparkling in excitement if one may say so. He patted the horse's neck and gave Raven a compliment before lifting himself up. In no time, he was already racing towards the direction of the small town square where the inn was located.

~

Astrid slapped the useless woman in front of her another time. She was still seething from the exchange she had with the Baron, and the woman's incompetent service was grating her already fried nerves. Everyone in this damned land were all incompetent!

Insulting.

She was deeply insulted with the thought that a commoner Baron chased her away from his home. A wretched low blood with nothing on his name. The thought of it was sending her into fits of rage she never felt before. Everything went wrong after Lady Leorick's ball, that damned chit.

"This is the biggest room we have in the inn. We don't have any silk sheets in our possession, my lady, and for that we are deeply apologizing for our shortcomings," Said the old man beside the woman she slapped twice in a row. She sneered in disgust at the people surrounding her at the moment. She doesn't belong in this place.

They were at the dining hall of the small inn and the tavern attached to it were all given a free show after she punished the owner of the unsatisfactory inn.

"I am not sleeping in a filthy room and certainly not without the silk sheets. Have them arrange it right now!" She could not help raising her tone and along with it was a teacup she threw on the floor, shattering it into tiny shards of glass.

Everyone visibly flinched, except the young woman at the back, the one manning the tables earlier. It irked her how the dark-haired woman was staring at her in defiance instead of cowering in fear. That woman was not even worth looking at. Even so, the woman keep glancing her way.

"With all due respect, my lady, stop," It was the dark-haired woman. The rage in her ignited to new heights as she walked away from the dingy table they prepared for her awhile ago. She sauntered towards the woman in slow, agonizing steps. The dark-haired woman did not so much move an inch while the rest took a step back.

"Did you just interrupt me?" She hissed, stretching her arm for another slap. Again, the woman did not even take a step back and instead hitched her chin up in return.

Lips pursed in anger, she let her hand fly, anticipating the satisfying slap for this unruly vermin in front of her. However, it didn't take place.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

It was odd.

She never feared anyone before in her life, be it a thug or even his father, the King included. There's nothing that could coerce her into fear. However, the man in front of her, shielding the dark-haired woman with his eyes seething in fury and jaw gritting in silent infuriation caused a thudding inside her chest. A dull thud of discomfort.

He towered over her, he could easily squash her if he wanted to do so and she is certain that the commoners around her won't even squeak a peep. No one had ever tried to disrespect her in any way or form. She was out of her element.

Anxiety.

For the first time, she noticed the eyes around the room. They were all centered at the man holding her wrist, eyes seeking for protection, but also ready to protect him if need be.

Fear. She's scared of what's in-store in her future with these people.