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His Masked Knight

"It is futile" Duke Allen spoke, his amber eyes glinting with unwavering arrogance. "How dare you!?" the crude looking bandit growled as he took another spare dagger. "Don't bother" a sharp, clear-cut voice slashed his thoughts. "My my Edgar, you are frightening the poor soul. Look, he is not bothering to attack with his dagger" Duke chuckled, lacing his words with superiority. It only took a slash to paint the gravel and the ground with bright red. The ground also witnessed a 'thump' and a rolling head. "Wipe that cocky smirk off. It's repulsive" the knight spat out, his eyes were filled with fury at the aloofness exhibited by his master. What would have happened if I were late? "That's not how you speak with your Master, but that's okay.." Duke said, closing the distance between him and his knight. "After all, you are" he slightly bent himself to whisper in the ear of his knight "my one-and-only Edgar Radford" his hiss sent sharp tingles through the knight's body. A rush of rosy hue brightened his white cheeks accompanied by a slight throbbing. ***** Aristocracy, a privileged class holding hereditary titles. The class of the most powerful members of society. The ton or rather the Aristocracy retains notable title-holders. Among them is Allen Barnhart Ferdinand, the Duke of Alterimers. Commonly called "The Rapacious Eagle". When this Eagle decides to deracinate the rats, he rules out a need for a knight. When Edgar Radford proves to be potential knight, Allen chooses him. Mireille Isabelle Martin, the youngest daughter of Count Martin, witnesses her mother's murder at a young age, sworn to retaliate- Mireille bequeaths her old self to become Edgar Radford. Will being chosen by the Rapacious Eagle help her in her path? Or will she become a prey to the Eagle? When fate entangled their past, will they solve the mysteries it evokes? Disclaimer: This story is a pure work of fiction and any resemblance to reality is pure coincidence or vain expectatin.

mcross_1005 · Geschichte
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39 Chs

Unpolished

Allen

{During the brunch with Baroness Clara Yorkiel— 35 days in the past}

I glanced at the Baroness, who was grumbling while munching away her meal. Maybe she was still not over my rudeness yesterday. No matter how I look at it, this is definitely not my fault. With only a glance, I can tell she's hiding something important from me. Something about Lady Mireille or perhaps about Edgar Radford.

The information around that knight is clean. Has a decent brought-up, decent background and unique fighting style. He won't be suspected in the least, except for his feminine beauty and he's so narcissistic about it.

Lady Mireille. She is the one I have to be wary of. I don't know her past, nor do I know the reason as to why she's disguising as Edgar- leaving the comfort of the interior couches and flowers to training day and night and to brawl with unknown people. I don't know why.....and it infuriates me.... The baroness too is trying to mask as much information as she possibly can. I heaved a big sigh, catching the attention of Baroness.

She looked at me skeptically "His Grace, aren't you going to eat? Your meal is cold" she said, which made me realize my food has indeed gone cold.

I glanced at her, she was now wondering what questions I will fire her way and how she will dodge them.

"Isn't there something you are hiding from me?" I asked smiling nonchalantly, I decided to be direct with her.

"Pardon me?" she tried to act ignorant at the unexpected question, but I could see the uneasy beads of sweat on her.

"Everyone does it..." I said, gazing at the fresh juice served to me ".... denying, that is"

I have asked that question uncountable times to uncountable people. Every guilty one reacted the same way, feigning ignorance. If she is wise of my presence, she'll spill the beans. After all, if she remains quiet, I'll just have to find it myself, no matter the means I use. That's why, it's better for her to just tell me everything she's hiding.

"I..... Um..." her hesitation to say anything clearly shows she is thinking of the excuses to make and tell me in the most roundabout way possible.

To add to her unease, "I'm thinking of appointing Edger Radford as my personal knight" I informed her, excepting to see the bewilderment on her face since it means I'll be choosing a green, inexperienced knight and dumping a hefty amount of responsibility on him and expecting complete loyalty from him-a complete stranger.

"No!" she yelped, nearly springing from her seat, the clinking voice of the silverware was ringing from her knee-jerk jolt to the table. Her face was shrouded in apprehension while her eyes were speaking of nervousness.

I arched my brows, confusion and disappointment greeting me. I was positive on seeing a puzzled look from Baronness. Decidedly, I shook away my disappointed look and tried getting as much information as I possibly could from her reaction.

"Please settle down, I wouldn't want fake rumors about my misconduct to reach a potential knight" my cordial voice broke to the anxious Madame.

She slipped onto her chair before comprehending my words and contradicting my choice for a personal knight.

"Please. You can't choose Edgar, you can't bring him anywhere near to you!" she shouted, completely disregarding my plea to avoid any attention. I gave a side-glance to one of the footmen, signaling him to leave the room with all the other servants.

"And why is that?" I replied with a tinge of annoyance. Her eyes always soften up whenever any topic includes Edgar Radford.

"Because...... I...never wanted her to be a knight. I don't want her to suffer more than she already did" I could see the Madam holding her tears while gulping away invisible lumps of sorrow. This only increases my annoyance level. What does she mean by her words? Didn't she nurture lady Mireille into the present Edgar? Why would she do so if she was against the idea all along? What suffering did Edgar go through?

"Such tenderness....." I give a small mocking clap, setting aside my questions "Does he know about his indecisive aunt?" I retort, snarly at her weak responses. I know Edgar calls Madame as “aunt”, I have heard him calling her. Even the way he looks at her is filled with complex fondness.

"No, please. I don't want her to step into a world devoid of any kindness. Not after I did so much in concealing it from her" she tightly gripped her lacey gown, biting her lower lip and hanging her head down, in an attempt to hide her guilt.

As suspected, Edgar Radford is clueless about the brutality and malice offered by the aristocracy. Without any knowledge, he is venturing into this society- will that result in a positive impact in his life? From my perspective, it'll never happen.

"Edgar will remain as a common knight for the estate and will retire after a period of time due to the exhausting lifestyle of a knight— this has been my plan all along" she grumbled, probably displaying her final card.

Does she really think Edgar will give up and return to the protective shell offered to him? Give-up? Him? No way. The fierce eyes, the determination in them, his firm stance... There was only fearlessness in his eyes. When I first met him, his eyes never wavered once despite standing before me, Duke Ferdinand- the sole heir of the Royal throne.

I felt an ambiguous smirk gracing my lips at the slight revelation. Not at the hemming and hawing response from Madame, but at the choice offered to lady Mireille. Be a tender and blossoming flower sheltered with untold jewels and lavished interiors or be a marionette in this society and venture deep into an abysmal. He may have picked the latter, but unknown to him, he is still being protected and sheltered. He didn't come out of the shell his aunt built and even if he did, who knows if he can handle it? Though I want him to prove me wrong.

"I must apologize" I broke the heavy silence in the atmosphere "I cannot accept you conditions. Edgar Radford is now a knight of the Ferdinand Dukedom. And as the lord of the Dukedom, I have every right over my Knights" I reply utmost genuinely. I have no thoughts of giving-up on Edgar...... He is just like an unpolished and uncut diamond, waiting for the correct force and pressure to bring out his sparkling brilliance.

To add weight to my words, I sprang up from my seat and maintaining a rigid expression I stormed out the posh dining hall. Before I reached the door, I made sure to remind Baroness about her carriage, which was ready to leave right now according to my orders. I don't want any clingy support for Edgar, it'll only inhibit his envisaged growth.

{Present}

I glare at the crouching figure of Edgar with beautiful caramel locks covering his face, though the tears rolling down his white face are evident. Monroe rushes to him but dares not touch a single stand of his. Raizel too shows a worried look instead of his invariably cold look.

I tightly clench my wrists trying to subdue my seething anger, making me frustrated at my inadequacy at purging away the flith that dared poison me!

I huff some air before walking towards Edgar. I have to make sure, he won't underestimate himself and give-up, just like his aunt hoped. I had to polish him, so that I could see his sparkly brilliance myself. Before it's too late, I must have his complete loyalty and trust.

From the corner of my eyes, I can see Sebastian and Raizel with their tensed faces, gasping at my seething rage. I chose to ignore them and continue focusing on the one in front. I crouch down opposite to Edgar and he finally looks up at me, giving a pause to his continuing tears.

His face is completely pale, the rosy hue on his porcelain white face faded away at the terror-striken expression. His eyes, which were half-opened into narrow slits, were blurry with the tears. His figure is abashed, trying hard at denying the malicious truth. If any of his predators were to see his expression right now, they won't be having any second thoughts in tearing away their prey. A look of absolute helplessness clouded with his petrified eyes.

Showing such weak state proves that his mind is only shrouded with excess of compassion, ignorance, empathy and every philanthropy feeling. To survive in this world, one needs to mask his compassion or sympathy behind a nonchalant and aloof look. Just like how Raizel maskes his gentle and mellow self behind his cold-iron face.

Preparing to thrash out on Edgar, I grit my teeth and harden my face just to see the many veins visible. I deepen my glare on him and with a frown, I open my mouth.

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