His eyes calmly run through all four of us in a relaxed manner as he walks close by. Beside him treads an old muscular man with a pointy gray beard and big ears, more or less his height, a bit on the longer yet slimmer end. And despite looking this old, he is younger than the lord.
When one looks at Priam, despite him being in his sixties, they would at most give him thirty. That has to do with his powers, of course. After all, Duke Dardanos is arguably among the ten strongest humans in the realm of Midgard. When the demons attacked, he single-handedly killed Greed by sacrificing himself.
The primary reason for his death wasn’t the demon general though, but the shrewd brother now standing beside him, smiling at me with a mask of warm hospitality put on his oblong face.
Lampus is a merchant of high caliber who has many businesses and connections spread across the nobility and beyond. Lacking in looks and strength, he makes up for them with his eloquence and astuteness of the high pedigree that served him to make such great ties.
So naturally, I smile at him also. What? You didn’t just think I would try making enemies with this smartass, did you? I couldn’t care less about his questionable morals.
Barely any characters had any, if any, morals in Madness Menagerie. Certainly not the male cast, not the large portion of the side cast, and most certainly not the heroine. In such a world, attempting moral high standing is a surefire way to suicide. This is not Earth. Hypocrisy is never forgiven, and most are yet to be brainwashed by the vague values set by society. Why? Because they don’t have schools. They don’t have constant propaganda machines drilling through their young, pure minds. Instead, relatively wealthy children are to attend libraries to learn about the world before higher education. They have instructors, but those serve only to guide them, not shackle them.
Priam, or well, Father— he first pats the little boy’s head as the child looks up at him with an open mouth. Father smiles at him with closed eyes. A smile not of Lampus’s that one would wear on a masquerade, but a real, father’s smile.
He then looks at the hoe for a brief moment before nodding and setting his eyes on me, his lips deepening. “Glad to see you back, Daughter.”
I don''t know what to say or how to say it. Hey, Sir, I''m an outlander, and I''ve in actuality snatched your daughter''s body. He’d probably believe that too since it''d be easy to confirm. What then, you may wonder. Well, they label us as outlanders and actively hunt to crucify all of us poor transmigrators. This is not widely known, but as someone who’s read the story, I know it, and so I know that mentioning my origins should be the last thing on my list to do.
The Duke then sharpens his eyes, his voice hardening. “Troilus is very young still. You should forgive him for his immaturity.”
“No, the fault was mine wholly,” I say, meeting his eyes. “It’s me who should apologize. I was the immature one.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
I approach the boy and also repeatedly pat his messy hair as Father watches keenly. I lock eyes with Troilus and soften my expression. “Will you forgive me?”
He stares at me with a question plastered on his small face. Then nods.
Right, his mind is probably wandering in wonderment, is this the same woman who was acting like an animal just then?
“But can you, next time, voice your arguments as a noble should, without calling me names?” I say to the boy, lowering my head to his level.
“Oh, did he talk badly of you?” Father intervenes with a reprimanding gaze, then directs his eyes to his wife. “How strange. I’m sure Troilus loves you at least as much as we all here do.”
He then looks back at me, putting a hand on my shoulder and pressing his forehead against mine. “Not as much as your father does.”
Oh well, this is awkward.
I shouldn’t sweat it too much. Remember, this hot guy is an old man, and he’s my father.
This makes it sound even creepier…
Lampus openly laughs from the side, brushing his lower eyelid. “The praises of your qualifying project research spread everywhere. Well done! As expected of Dardanos!”
Oh. Research. Haha ha- ha—
What kind of research?
What research?
Can I even return to the academy knowing nothing about anything in the first place… Am I not just begging to get busted?
“How strange indeed. I’m sure our child must have heard such vulgarity from the house servants,” the hoe says, clipping her fan shut, revealing her ugly face in its fullness for the world to behold. “I will make sure to discipline him and investigate the matter.”
She’s smarter than she looks; I’ll give her that. Predicted her defeat and didn’t make a tantrum. And just like that, Laothoe takes the child by the hand and leaves with heavy strides of her heels.
The Duke glances at his brother. Lampus strokes his thick mustache rising over toward the pointy tips as it stretches. “It was nice meeting you, Cass. I’m sure we’ll have time to talk. I’m here for a while,” he says as he too turns and leaves with a shrug.
Essie opens the door for the Duke and me as we enter the ducal study. As it closes, strong smells of ink assault me immediately, and turning my head left and right, I note various documents scattered across the long table. At the end of the oval table is a smaller, adjacent rectangular table, and at its end is a grand chair with trimmings on its edges. Father takes a seat there, and I sit to his closest right.
Then silence.
Silence permeates.
His face stays stoic, expressionless. Yet his lips quiver ever so lightly, and his skyly eyes focus with a sharp glint of underlying death.
He leans forward, clasping his hands together and leaning his chin against the tip.
This can’t be it, right? Surely it’s not what I think it is.
He lifts a single finger from his folded hands.
Pointing. At me. My neck.
“Who are you?”