Chapter 56

“Yes, the earth seems to have sunk as last winter’s snow melted,” Serin explained.

“I see,” Kennard murmured, his fingers brushing his lower lip in thought.

“Hazel?” he abruptly shifted topics, causing Serin a moment of confusion.

“What about her?” 

“Has she left?”

“Yes,” Serin replied. “She left very early this morning. Her attendants packed quickly, but in their haste, they left a few things behind.”

“Dispose of them,” Kennard ordered curtly.

Serin hesitated. “But there are some valuable items, my lord. Perhaps we could organize and send them after her?”

“Why waste the effort?” Kennard dismissed the suggestion. “How’s Carmen?”

Serin shook his head, a grimace etching his features. “There was nothing left to be done.”

“I see,” Kennard said indifferently. He had witnessed countless deaths, many at his own hand. The news of another, especially someone he held no attachment to, barely registered.

“Old man Leto embalmed the body and loaded it onto a carriage,” Serin explained. “Terra Demorte’s cold temperatures might delay decomposition, but by the time it reaches the Baruchella capital, the effects will be noticeable.”

Kennard stroked his chin, the stubble catching uncomfortably. A kiss or something more with Elena could leave scratches. “I need a shave,” he muttered.

Serin sighed, snapping Kennard out of his reverie. “Your Grace, what about the situation? His Majesty won’t take this lightly.”

“My hands are tied,” Kennard replied. “Carmen’s death falls squarely on Hazel’s shoulders. Let the King blame the Blade Ducal family if he seeks a scapegoat.”

Serin’s expression darkened. “His Majesty will latch onto anything to tighten his control. We know nothing about Count Menelph, Carmen’s father. This is a precarious situation.”

“It matters little,” Kennard said dismissively. “I won’t be drawn into it.”

Serin’s pointed look darted towards the room. “What about Elena? Hazel might have scurried back under threat, but knowing her fiery spirit, she won’t let this go. Elena’s a different story entirely.”

Kennard listened, a single eyebrow rising. The long scar that ran diagonally from his forehead to his eyelid twitched, a flicker resembling a blade. Coupled with his unruly hair, it sharpened his features even further.

Serin, with a sigh that seemed to deflate him, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before reopening them. He raised his hands, palms facing Kennard, a gesture of surrender. “Yes, of course, Your Grace. With you here, who would dare harm Elena? It’s just… you seem willing to turn the entire populace against yourself over one woman.”

A low chuckle rumbled from Kennard’s chest. He reached out and patted Serin’s cheek with surprising lightness. “You understand well.”

“Your Grace!” Serin sputtered, frustration lacing his voice. Yet, Kennard offered only a dry smile in response. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I’ll send word shortly. Ensure no one approaches the path from her room to mine.”

“Why?” Serin questioned, brows furrowed.

“When Elena awakens, she’ll be staying with me from now on,” Kennard declared.

“Your Grace, that’s simply too…” Serin stammered.

“Tell Lassino to move all of Elena’s belongings from her room.”

“But Your Grace,” Serin pleaded. “There are not only attendants but also knights in the castle. Additionally, reinforcements of three hundred men have just arrived from the main fortress.”

“So what?” Kennard’s tone remained steady, but his jaw tightened, revealing the simmering irritation beneath his words.

Defeated by Kennard’s mood, Serin swallowed a sigh and slumped his shoulders.

“Her safety is assured. No one, not even His Majesty, will lay a hand on her,” Kennard declared fiercely.

“That much is clear,” Serin conceded, rubbing his face in frustration. For some reason, a blush crept up his earlobes.

Kennard’s frown deepened as he glared at Serin. “Then what troubles you?”

“It’s the pheromones, Your Grace,” Serin blurted, turning away slightly. “They’ve permeated the entire castle. The attendants and knights could barely breathe last night. Headaches, vomiting, even fainting – it’s been a mess. Old man Leto handed out herbal water, but it had little effect. Now you propose sharing your chambers with Elena…constantly? Are you trying to suffocate us all?”

“They’ll adapt,” Kennard dismissed with a curt nod.

Serin’s jaw dropped. “Your Grace!” he exclaimed.

“Don’t meddle,” Kennard commanded, his voice firm.

“But Your Grace!” Serin persisted, his voice laced with worry. “If we deploy the soldiers as planned, who will guard Elena? What if she attempts escape?”

Kennard, hand on the doorknob, paused and turned back to Serin. “Cura will remain with Elena except during my visits. You contradict yourself, Serin. First, you advise I release her, then fret about escape. What is it you truly want?”

Serin scratched his neck, grappling for the right words. “Just one thing, Your Grace.”

Kennard sighed, exasperation evident. “Honestly, I’ve lost track.”

“Without battles to occupy you,” he continued, “it seems you’re getting lost in useless thoughts. Handle the correspondence, draft replies, and organize the mineral tribute reports.”

“And you?” Serin raised an eyebrow.

“Naturally, I’ll be with Elena.”

Serin stared at him, incredulous. “Seriously?”

“Absolutely.”

“You’re not yourself, Your Grace. Women have never held your interest. Did you indulge in too much Vanaichi? Are you feeling unwell?”

Serin’s incessant nagging pushed Kennard to the brink. “Silence, or I’ll strangle you.” He growled, frustration boiling over. Why did he ever forget the man’s endless capacity for chatter? All he craved was returning to bed, his impatience fueled by the sounds of Elena stirring within the room.

“Leave,” Kennard dismissed. “We’ll head to the border tomorrow.” With that, he shut the door on Serin’s sputtering protests.

Inside, Elena wrestled to sit up, pulling the fur covering her up to her chest. Her gaze darted around the room, likely searching for clothes. He’d discarded her robe and chemise by the fireplace, leaving her with no choice but to get out of bed if she wanted to dress. Convenient, he thought with a smirk, remembering the strategically ajar door.

Kennard paused halfway across the room. “Rising already?”

Elena flinched at the sound, her head snapping up slowly. The fur shot up to cover her chin in a flurry of movement. It contrasted beautifully with her pale skin and vibrant red hair. Her eyelids and cheeks, slightly puffy from sleep, resembled soft sugar cookies. Even her lips, which had borne the brunt of his affections throughout the night, were fuller and more inviting than usual.

The sight of her took his breath away. Blood pulsed in his lower body. “Can you stand?” he asked, his voice husky.

Elena’s large, clear gray eyes flickered with embarrassment, and a blush crept up her cheeks. She turned away, burying her chin in the fur, her sleep-tousled hair cascading down one shoulder. Even after their passionate night, her shyness was undeniably endearing.

Kennard approached slowly, his gaze fixed on her. As he neared, Elena hunched her shoulders and hid her face even deeper in the fur. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he saw the exposed skin of her shoulder turn a delicate pink.

He walked past the bed, his bare chest catching the warm afternoon sun that streamed through the window as he pushed aside the heavy curtains. He repeated the action on the other side, revealing the distant greenhouse nestled within the garden.

A memory flickered. Yesterday afternoon, the sound of the whistle he’d given Elena for emergencies had sent a jolt through him. It was meant for dire situations outside the castle walls, yet here it was, echoing within.

He’d been in his office with Serin, buried in dispatches from the capital, when the shrill sound pierced the air. The whistle fell silent before he could determine the direction, but Elena’s pheromones served as a beacon. Without a moment’s hesitation, Kennard transformed, becoming a wolf. Leaping over terraces and walls, he raced through the castle grounds until he reached the greenhouse.

Had a Whitefox entered the castle? he had thought, bewildered. The castle security shouldn’t be this lax. Even more concerning, he hadn’t picked up a whiff of their foul pheromones anywhere.