The Lycan King's Puppet-Chapter 80: Consequences

He stood by the parapets with a goblet of wine in his hands. It was almost dawn.

The events of the previous night blurred in his memory. He only remembered seeing her run away. His Lycan rejected her on the spot and would have killed her if he hadn’t intervened.

The blood moon was finally over. He could lock the dreadful beast away and go on with his life.

And properly apologize to Claire... for everything that happened.

They hadn’t properly seen each other for nigh a week...

"You should sleep. Those Rogues gave us a good fight." Andon said, drawing up beside him.

Yeren only gave him a sideward glance.

"I’m happy to see you - for once in my life - Your Grace. May the blood moon never come until your death." Andon raised his glass to toast.

Yeren nodded and raised his glass as well.

"How was the council?"

Andon slapped his back affectionately.

"For now, don’t worry about all those things. Focus on healing properly and becoming more of... yourself." Andon indicated the bruises the shackles left on his wrists and ankles.

They were fading, but very slowly - his Lycan was barely cooperating.

"How was Cla... Miss Stenly? Did you find something to engage her with in my absence?"

Andon threw him a very silly grin. "Drop the nonsense act, Yeren. You want to know if she was concerned about you, do you not?"

He shook his head, but faint colour stained his cheeks despite his efforts.

"I won’t expect her to have a care as to my affairs-"

"Don’t bore with all that. That woman was literally everywhere. There wasn’t a day she didn’t try to have a look at you. ’Ensuring your wellbeing’, she called it. You won’t even believe what her desperation led her to do."

Yeren leaned forward without realising it.

"Stop fooling with me."

"Who do you think broke your window? I know you won’t remember, but deep down you know it’s her. I was convinced she had run mad at that point."

Yeren let out a long sigh.

"I can’t even understand her."

"Women are not your forte. Speaking of women, what about Garelle? What happened out there?"

Yeren shrugged.

"I don’t know myself. I tried... but I couldn’t mark her."

"Neither could she mark you. I think it’s a matter of incompatibility."

Yeren stared into the contents of his goblet.

"That doesn’t explain why I tried to kill her. Why is my bride Plumette’s daughter? Have all the noble women finished in the Kingdom?"

Andon let out a dry cough. "I wish I could answer that - but you already know the answer to that. I was actually expecting Falstaff to offer that pig daughter of his to you. But, they’re wise enough to know that a pretty wife is the best way to manipulate the King."

Yeren raised his glass to nothing in particular and took a small sip.

"Arrange a meeting with the council members tomorrow."

Andon tilted his head at a curious angle. "So soon? Are you sure you’re ready for such a menacing audience? Besides, Your Grace, I arranged a meeting for you and Garelle - it is better to sort this out before the priest and cathedral become involved."

"I don’t want to talk to her so soon. Like you said, I’m still recovering."

Andon nodded.

"Your Cupbearer will cheer you up, I believe."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Yeren’s lips.

"I doubt that. How is my uncle and his family? I haven’t seen them since the previous night. Did they return safely?"

Andon took a gulp of his own drink.

"Of course they did. Your uncle was the first to arrive. His wife gave those Rogues a good thrashing."

Yeren chuckled. "I expected nothing less."

"Neither did I. More wine?"

Yeren looked into his near-empty glass and shook his head.

Wine wasn’t as good when his Cupbearer didn’t serve it.

Andon raised a brow but went ahead to refill his goblet.

"Malric gave me a headache all through your absence. He called me stupid and insufficient in a thousand different ways. I do not understand how you always have the patience to settle accounts with such a tedious man."

Yeren looked up at the sky. Threads of dawn were visible in the dark sky.

It’d been a while since he’d seen the sun in all its glamour.

"How is her sister?"

"Who, Your Grace?"

Yeren finished the remaining wine in his cup and set it down on the stone slab.

"Miss Stenly’s younger sister."

"She should be fine. Although I didn’t see them return here."

Yeren’s gaze snapped to his.

"They haven’t returned from the festival? What do you mean by that? They weren’t supposed to attend!"

Andon raised his palms up. "I left them here. They weren’t supposed to attend. Their guards were given instructions."

His jaw twitched.

"And weren’t they followed?"

Andon lifted his shoulders casually.

"If they were, those girls would be tucked safely in their beds."

"Go out and find them."

"Now? Me?"

"Yes. Anything could have happened to them. As soon as I can, I’ll organise a party and hunt down every single Rogue in this Kingdom."

"It’s impossible to hunt down every single one of them." Taking a deep breath, he added, "I saw Moonstone and Straight. They were with Falstaff and Redmare in the crowd."

Yeren rubbed his eyes.

"If they want, they can measure out my grave, but I won’t lie in it."

Andon chuckled. "Easier said and done."

Groaning, Yeren left the parapets and went into the room.

The strip from her chemise was still on his table.

He couldn’t believe she had seen him - he was a beast.

What did she think of him? She probably hated him more. Or worse, she was afraid of him?

But none of that mattered.

"Call Vik. I want to see him."

There was a knock on the door just then.

A guard opened the door and ushered Aunt Adisa into the room.

Her carefully guarded expression was in shambles.

"You have to come quick, Yeren." She said, her voice rushed.

He blinked, waiting for her to say more.

"Your Cupbearer’s sister has been hurt."

He and Andon exchanged glances.

Adisa led the way to a room closed to the entrance. Claire was standing outside the door, struggling not to cry. She was clutching the despicable necklace as she paced around the door.

As soon as she saw them coming, she froze and wiped her eyes.

"Your Grace." She skirted a clumsy curtsey.

"Miss Stenly." He nodded at her.

Her cheeks were puffy from crying, her face red.

What really happened to her younger sister?

"Can I see her?"

She nodded without looking at him.

All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and comfort her.

Andon waited outside, offering her the very same embrace Yeren had wanted to.

Andon was right - women were not his forte.

The room inside was thick with the scent of slaves and herbs and ointments. Two candles were lit on both sides of the bed.

The little girl laid in the center of the bed.

The healer was stacking things in his tray, ready to take his leave.

"How is she?"

The man looked up from his work, his eyes widening slowly.

"Your Grace!" He stood to his feet immediately and bowed.

"Forgive me, I didn’t know you had come in."

Yeren nodded. "How is the girl?" He asked again.

"Her bone has been snapped into place. She just needs time to heal properly."

The man nodded and left.

Yeren stepped forward and peered at the girl’s little face. Sweat beaded her forehead.

The door opened and Claire walked in.

She closed the door behind her and walked to the edge of the bed.

"It’s all my fault." He heard her say to herself.

Tears pooled in her eyes again.

No one was watching...

He moved closer slowly. She just stood there, lost and distant.

She only looked up when he was within a hand’s length.

"Don’t look at me like that! My stupidity caused this!" She covered her face with her two hands and began to sob.

His heart went out to her. Yeren couldn’t even imagine what she was going through.

"She’ll be fine." He closed the space between them and wrapped his hands around her.

She tensed slightly but didn’t push him away.

Gradually, she leaned her head on his chest and continued to sob.

He felt like he could hold he there for as long as...

She nestled closer, burying her face in the fur of his cloak.

"Why did you even attend the festival?" He asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

Claire fell silent.

"I don’t know."

She tried to pull away, but his arms held her in place.

Slowly, she lifted her face. Their eyes met.

"Don’t lie to me, Miss Stenly."

"I was curious."

"Curious about what, if I may ask?"

"About you."