Witness

The next morning, Dante woke up late. He ordered breakfast to be brought to his room and ate in silence. His silvery brows narrowed in thought as he struggled to piece together some sort of plan. Should he keep trying to convince Diego about the werewolf, or no? Should he tell Cloella that he saw her that night, or keep it to himself?

His inner turmoil weighed on him. Eventually, he set his thoughts and leftover food aside in favor of more archery practice followed by a run through the forest.

The sun was high by the time he started his run along the trails. His black leather boots thudded rhythmically against the ground, disturbing clusters of dry leaves that had been shed from the surrounding trees in droves. Eventually, he was deep within the woods, and he heard voices over his crunching footsteps.

Dante slowed to a stop and listened in.

He could hear one distinct voice shouting, barking out what seemed to be commands. He then heard a larger collection of voices respond, usually with invigorating roars or shouts of "yes sir!"

Curious, Dante followed the path that seemed like it would take him closer to the location of these voices. As he grew nearer, he recognized the voice that was issuing the orders. It sounded like Diego.

Dante came closer and saw that he was right. In a clearing was Diego

Dante's cousin had with him a couple dozen of his father's armed guards. He paced in front of them shouting out a schedule of rotation that included rest breaks, training drills, and scouting patrols.

Dante waited until the soldiers let out a rallying cry and then scattered to set to the routine and then he approached Diego from behind.

Diego had his gloved hands behind his back in a very military "at ease" posture, his legs spread shoulder width. His brow was wrinkled in what was either concentration or anger. Dante couldn't tell which. But when Diego spotted him, Dante could tell that, if it hadn't been anger before, it quickly turned into it.

"What are you doing here?" Diego spat.

"I was going for a run when I heard you, and I wanted to see what was happening," Dante said.

Diego grunted. "Not much is happening."

"Then why all the shouting? Shouting usually means something important's going on."

Diego was silent for a while. "One of my scouts reported seeing something last night," he said finally. "I'm not saying that you were right. But there is," he paused to select his next words with deliberate care, "certain evidence that's beginning to swing in your favor."

Dante's chest swelled with pride at his cousin's vague acknowledgement that he'd been right. "So then, all of this is-"

Diego cut him off. "This," he gestured at the last of the guards before they vanished into the foliage, "is all to capture your werewolf."

The high from being right vanished, replaced by a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Capture?"

"Of course," Diego said. "Werewolves aren't native to the Nascent. We need to know how it got here and what its intentions are. Worst case, we need to slay it."

"Slay…" Dante felt dizzy.

Diego looked at him. "Are you alright, Dante?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Dante said quickly. "Do you need any help? I tend to stay up late anyway, so I could go with you to patrol tonight."

Diego side eyed him, silently sizing him up and analyzing his potential usefulness. "I suppose I could use more people with a Chimera helping out," he muttered. "Fine. Meet me by the gates tonight after sunset. Bring a bow and a horse."

"Of course."

With that, Diego stalked off into the forest after his men.

Dante sighed, short and sharp, through his nose and turned to head back to the castle. This was worrying, and he still didn't know what to do. It was too late to tell Diego that it had all been a misunderstanding. Someone else had seen Cloella.

Now, his only choice was to confess to Cloella that he knew she was a werewolf and then get her a Chimera and help her escape. It was almost time for her break, so he hurried back to the castle and sprinted back up the stairs toward his room. He yanked out his key and fumbled with fitting it into the lock. When he finally managed to unlock the door, he rushed inside and looked around.

The servants had keys to all of the rooms so they could clean and tend to the fires. However, there was no sign that Cloella had been by yet.

Dante slumped into a chair and tapped his fingers on the arm of his seat. Time passed. Still, she didn't arrive.

Eventually, he ordered down for some whiskey, hoping that it would be Cloella who brought it up. But when the door was knocked upon only a few minutes later, the person holding the bottle of alcohol was a young man.

Dante drank straight out of the bottle and stared into the fire. Worry clawed at his chest.

More time passed, until it was long after the scheduled meeting time with Diego. It had been so long that the sun was already starting to set.

Dante's stomach growled hungry protests at him skipping both lunch and dinner. He picked unenthusiastically at his long-cold leftovers from breakfast and then headed back out and down the stairs, stopping only to gather a bow and a quiver of arrows from the weaponry. He hesitated and then grabbed a half dozen practice arrows, adding them to his quiver before leaving the castle and heading out to the stables.

All he could do was hope that she was alright, and that she would continue to be that way until he could find her.