Steel and Mana

Chapter 380 – Angry

Back home, back in his room, Galahad was in deep thought, eyes closed yet moving rapidly under his eyelids. He sat cross-legged on his bed, palms pressed to his knees, but no amount of meditation could perfectly sort the memory of his grandparents’ acting from his mind. It was... hard to do it this time.

He sighed once again, trying to let the world dissolve—ignoring the distant creak of the Palace's walls. Ignoring the sound of wind through the leaves outside his window. Just focusing on the memories—It was what he was telling his mind until there was only the echo of his grandparents' voices.

Every word. Every glance. Every hesitation.

His grandmother’s smile. It was too broad, too practiced—as she’d offered him tea in that simple cup. The way her fingers had lingered a heartbeat too long on his wrist when she passed it to him as if checking something. Maybe she was. Maybe she did something to the tea he didn't perceive. Perhaps it was an accident.

Then... There was his grandfather’s laugh, which was dry as old paper when he brought up his misgivings about Arthur and Lancelot. There was genuine disapproving in his voice but also a probing question, wanting to know what they were doing in the tavern. Was he suspecting something? Could be. Or it could be that his handlers were asking that question through him.

Yes... the two fakes. The 'cousins,' huh? Sure... Cousins with wholly different facial features, relatives who had vanished with his satchel under the pretense of hanging it up. Interestingly, when he checked, after leaving, the little feather he stuck between its pages had fallen out. It was opened... And even without it, he had heard the muffled rustle of pages as that 'cousin' searched through it. With recalling it all, now he could even discern the disappointed sigh when the impostor found only his botany text and a half-written letter to Leyla and nothing more.

None of them were prepared for his gift. None of them had anything to counter it.

"Luna was always so… talented," his grandmother had mused, stirring her tea with her spoon in his memory. "We thought when she was given to the Frontier, we were doomed to die. That's why we left. We couldn't help her, and we couldn't bear witness to her death. You have to understand, Galahad. We thought the Frontier was a barbarian land... a death sentence."

As she spoke, there was no actual grief in her eyes or expression—just the clinical assessment of a lost opportunity—the same as in his grandfather's stare when he spoke about Luna. How they trained her, how they wanted her to be their 'salvation.'

They never once considered her mother one of their children. Not as his parents did... She was a ticket, an object to be offered. He felt disgusted.

Realizing it, his fists became clenched in his lap, his nails biting into his palms before releasing them and smiling at the two. He was going along, pretending to be too young to understand or notice it.

They always wanted nothing more but to be close to power.

With all that he recalled and sorted away, he slowly opened his eyes, making a heavy decision. No matter how terrible it was... his mother had to know. As her son, it was his obligation. He had to tell her to end her hesitation and doubts.

Walking into her little office, his mother was sitting in the window seat, a book open but unread in her lap, clearly caught in her own thoughts. Just by looking at her, Galahad could tell that Luna was not entirely there; her thoughts were distant. She was probably thinking about her parents...

She wasn't even reading, yet she turned a page without glancing at it, her thumb brushing the corner, only doing it out of habit. At that moment, Galahad suddenly had a thought... Maybe she loved reading and writing so much because it was what allowed her to disappear as a child. To be someone other than what her parents forced her to be. It helped her... be free. Even now, that remained with her.

"Mother?" He whispered, breaking her stupor, making Luna blink her mismatched eyes and turn towards her son.

"It is late, dear," she started, her face softening when she saw him. "Was it a busy day? Can't rest?" she asked as she marked her place in the book with a ribbon. "Come here."

He crossed the room, the rug above the floor muffling his footsteps, and sank onto the cushions beside her small couch. Her arm came around him, pulling him into the warmth of her embrace, making him smell a faint scent of lavender and lemon balm coming from her body. For one cowardly moment, he wanted to burrow into that warmth that only his parents could give him and say nothing.

But he had to tell her.

"I visited Grandmother and Grandfather today," he said suddenly.

The moment Luna heard him, her fingers stilled on his shoulder. Knowing that there was no way to avoid the topic, Galahad continued before she decided not to hear him out.

He told her everything—their forced smiles, the probing, masked questions, the way they’d spoken of her as if she were a flawed investment rather than a daughter—one that they were now trying to reclaim after it suddenly became very profitable. When he finished, his voice hoarse, and to his own surprise, his own eyes were teary. Yet, looking at Luna, she was surprisingly calm.

Instead of crying, Luna cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing the high bones of his cheeks—the same way she’d done when he was small and barely able to deal with the sensory overload his mind was putting him under. When he felt like shutting down from how much he remembered, how... chaotic it all was.... she was always there to hold his face and force him to only look at her. It always helped... like now.

"Oh, my dear," she murmured. "You didn’t have to do this all for my sake."

"Mom?" His breath hitched. "You knew?"

"Of course," she said with a sad smile. "I have always known. I realized it early. When I was a little girl," she said softly, then giggled, "Well, in age, that is. In height, I am still the shortest. You know, I used to practice curtsies for hours until my knees bruised, just to hear your grandfather say 'adequate.'" Her laugh came out again, but this time... it was more brittle. "It took me years to understand—some people don’t have love to give. Only conditions. So, whenever it wasn't a must, I refused to do anything. Only the things I deemed fun!"

"But..." Galahad’s voice cracked.

"Why do I let them stay here? I don't know... Pity? Maybe. Maybe because I think I am better than them. Out of spite... yeah, I think it is the latter. I wanted them to see how actual parents are. I became pregnant the last because I was afraid I would be like them."

"You aren't like them!" Galahad protested vehemently at once.

"I am relieved to hear that..." Luna muttered as she pulled him close, pressing her lips against his forehead. "You are the best son I could have asked for," she whispered into his hair.

In turn, Galahad clung to her, feeling his mind relax, and all of his tension leave his body.

"But, with your finding on the table," After a long moment, Luna kissed his head again and stood up, smoothing her skirt with hands that didn’t tremble at all. "I need to speak with your father."

...
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......

I was in my study, pulling another long night, getting ready for the winter and the visit from the leaders of the Union. I was also reading the latest reports coming from Oleg, who is staying in Markoth. I was about to stretch when my door opened, and Luna walked in, surprising me a little.

"Luna?" I asked, tilting my head.

She stood in the doorway, backlit by the light coming in from the hall, and I was already moving before she could say anything, my chair scraping against the floor as I stood up.

Something was wrong.

As for what, I didn't know, but the sense alone was enough. She usually doesn't stand like this. She was tense and...

"They never loved me," she said, her voice trembling and weak.

Ah. I understood it at once. By the time she finished, I crossed the room in three strides, catching her as she swayed, hugging me as strong as Yuri did all those years ago when she was still scarred in body and mind. I could guess that she was showing a strong front to the others and to the kids, but now, that facade that could fool even Galahad was broken.

"Our son confirmed it today," she whispered into my chest. "I was never their daughter. Just a transaction. I knew, but... Never knew it for sure... And Galahad visited them. He was so worried about me, ahaha... He even cried... Just like I do now..." She muttered.

She was indeed crying. And trembling... They dared to make my wife and son cry? They had some audacity. Nobody makes my loved ones cry. Nobody.

"I’ll make them leave," I growled, my hand cradling the back of her head. "Tonight."

"But... no!" Luna shook her head, looking up at me, blinking her eyes, trying to clear them from the tears. "Not yet! If they think they still have leverage, they’ll reveal their game, and––"

"Fuck the game. Fuck them, too."

"Don't tell that to Yuri... she may..." she joked, but it was hollow, so I just leaned down, kissing her before picking her up to hold her in my arm.

"Leave it to me. You don't need to worry. I am not going to hurt them, but this stops now. I don't care what they are trying to do. Spy this, discover that, buhuhuhu, evil plans, take over the ministers, whatever! Fuck, if I care, they could have pranced around like monkeys, but they were still doomed to fail the moment they entered my city. But to make my most treasured people cry?! I draw the line there."

"You are angry..." She muttered, amused and amazed, finally chuckling in a way that was honest.

"Oh, I am!" I answered, my voice raised, "I am only holding back my colorful words because they are your parents. As for the other fuckface dirt-licking altar boy molester dickheads? Yeah, they are going to be sorry to come to my city! They just kicked an iron board that is about to fall on their toes, turning them into meat paste!"

"What are you going to do?" she asked as I continued holding her with one hand and reaching for my emergency comm with the other.

"Pion," I spoke into it when the connection was made, and his voice came back at once, tired but alert. Probably just being woken up.

"Y-yes, My Sovereign!"

"Alert the guards. Shadow seal the city! Anybody leaving, trail them. If they are from the Tentian Theocracy, capture and bring them to one of the underground bases with a sack over their heads."

"Yes, sir! Are we under attack?"

"Indirectly, yes. I am going to alert the Secret Service. We are rounding up our spy problem. And we are doing it NOW."

"Understood."

"One more thing," I said, my voice cold. "Anyone who resists... break them." After clicking off the comm, I looked at Luna. "Come. Yuri should still be up. It's time to let her lose."

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Within the home of Luna's parents, Volkhir was still up despite the fact that the hour was way past midnight. He just couldn't sleep, thinking about how well that afternoon went, finally gaining access to the Palace via his grandson. However tiny the opening was at the moment, it was still an opening. Close by, his wife sipped her tea, as usual, almost by habit. It was then he heard it.

A thud.

Weird. It came from the roof as if something heavy had landed on it. Jumped on it... no, that was impossible. Yet it wasn't only him who heard it.

"Volkhir..." Elara's cup froze halfway to her lips. “Did you hear—”

Then, before she could finish, the main door to the house exploded inward.

Massive, skull-faced shadows poured through the splintered frame—death itself was coming for them. They didn't have any time to react, unlike one of the overseeing Tentian warriors. He was already in the stairway, coming from the second floor, holding a mace in hand. Yet, he could do nothing.

A crossbow bolt thunked into his shoulder so forcefully that it nailed him to the wall, hooking him in place.

“Secure the second floor!” a female voice shouted from the outside, and Volkhir could hear a crash coming from above as if something had smashed through the rooftop itself. This was followed quickly by painful shouts and groans.

Lady Varennes opened her mouth to scream—

"Shut up, you shriveled up, saggy-titted whore of a horsefucker." A gloved hand clamped over her face, muting her as Yuri appeared before the two, her eyes spewing cold flames at the old pair. “By order of the Sovereign,” she continued, her free hand holding a blade hovering at Volkhir’s eye level. “You are coming with us. You can obey me, or I can cut off your limbs and drag your mutilated torso through the streets. Your choice.”

"We––"

"Zip it pickle-dick." She snapped at Volkhir, "I am not asking for your opinions. I am telling you what is happening. Follow my orders, or I will smooth out your wrinkly skin with my knife. Now move; the rest of your sorry family and spy friends will follow soon. Either alive or in pieces... Doesn't really matter much. Their sorry little phimosis pricks will be served as dinner when the Cardinal comes to visit. I will personally make him eat all the dicks he sent to our city... And I will make him enjoy it..."

...
..A moment earlier..
......

Upstairs, the two 'cousins' who Galahad had also met earlier were working by lamplight, writing their reports and recording their views about the youngest Prince of Avalon. The taller one—Malrik, being his actual Tentian name—frowned when a thud came from above them.

And a second one. It had to be from the roof. As it happened... both men froze. Malrik, recovering first, went for his mace, sending hushing signals to his partner, heading downstairs to take a look while his partner was reaching for his sword under the bed.

Then came the shattering wood, the yelling from below... A moment later, a crash from above as black-clad figures swung through the window and through the ceiling itself, boots kicking aside the sword in the spy's hand.

Still, he was trained, and he reached into his pocket, bringing out a throwing star and flinging it at the neck of the introducers, but it bounced off like it was a toy. He couldn't help but scream as he looked into the skull-faced figure's glowing red eyes... Then... a loud crunch. He couldn't help but shriek as his dominant hand was caught in their gauntlet, squeezed and broken into dozens of pieces, probably maiming him forever.

“I am–” he slurred through split lips, but a fist slammed into his temple, and he dropped like a sack of grain.

"Shut up," The leader of the rooftop group yanked the unconscious head back by his hair. “Spies don’t get speeches,” he snorted before throwing him down and beginning to tie him up.

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At the same time, the rest of the Tentian spies—posing as a wine merchant from the Theocracy—were still staying at the Sparkling Tankard. They were about to return to their rooms, hoping to soon find a new place to stash their belongings after getting out of prison when it happened.

Enforcers flooded into the tavern, weapons drawn, barking orders and evoking the Sovereign's name. No matter if they were locals or not, they knew something big happened. And it was too late to do anything.

Fearing the worst, one of the spies, the one with the broken nose, his hand dipped toward his sleeve—but then he stopped as a crossbow was pointed at his broken nose.

“I’d really advise against that,” drawled a voice of the same Enforcer who arrested them a few days ago.

He was about to act as one of his comrades tried to make a distraction and bolted for the back door—without success.

A crossbow bolt from a different Enforcer nailed his knee, buckling him while making him howl in pain.

"Pull your hand out. Slowly. Then, you may die without pain." The Enforcer sighed, his arms holding his weapon with steely steadyness. “Nobody can escape Avalon's wrath... not if you come with bad intentions.”

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By the time the city bells tolled and welcomed the morning, the nightly assault was over.

Not a single alarm was raised amongst the infiltrating groups. Not a single message flew out of the city, and no connections were made. All of them were gone in the night. In a way, that would not be reported in the following newspapers...

The recently captured prisoners, including Luna's parents, were shackled, hooded, and loaded into unmarked carriages that vanished beneath the night sky—heading not toward the prisons but to a mountain base.

As dawn arrived, most of the people in Avalon remained oblivious... Just as the High Cardinal in the Theocracy, soon to arrive at Avalon, along with others, following Leon's invitation. It was about showing them the dangers of the monsters coming with snowfall, but after that night, he was about to surprise Damar in a different way. In a way that he won't be able to forget.