villainess'ss Secret Service

c47

47 a minor setback

The majestic white horses gracefully halted at the grand entrance of the Duke's estate, emitting a soft snort from their flared nostrils. Altair, dressed in an impeccable white ensemble, opened the ornate door of the pristine white and gold coach, stepping onto the meticulously arranged stone path. His ethereal silver eyes sparkled like precious gemstones as they caught the glimmer of sunlight. As he breathed in the delightful fragrance of the lush flora, an unexpected sensation gripped his core, causing his insides to knot, and a crease formed between his pale brows, revealing his inner turmoil.

"Something feels amiss. I can no longer sense her presence."

Altair's senses tingled with unease.

"Revered Altair?"

The urgent voice of the Head Butler called out, causing the man to turn and see the flustered figure rushing toward him. As the butler finally caught up, he gasped, his breath labored from the unexpected exertion, and inquired with a strained voice,

"What brings you here? Aren't you supposed to meet Lady Rosalie at the Temple?"

Puzzled by the question, Altair fixed his luminous gaze on Richard, who appeared just as perplexed. The butler reached into his vest's inner pocket and retrieved a pristine white envelope, extending it towards the disciple.

The urgent voice of the Head Butler called out, causing the man to turn and see the flustered figure rushing toward him. As the butler finally caught up, he gasped, his breath labored from the unexpected exertion, and inquired with a strained voice,

"What brings you here? Aren't you supposed to meet Lady Rosalie at the Temple?".

Puzzled by the question, Altair fixed his luminous gaze on Richard, who appeared just as perplexed. The butler reached into his vest's inner pocket and retrieved a pristine white envelope, extending it towards the disciple.

"Lady Rosalie received this letter a few hours ago. It appears to have been sent from the Temple, am I correct? Her Ladyship accepted the invitation and departed not long ago; you might have even spotted our black coach on your way here."

As the man swiftly perused the contents of the envelope, a dark and menacing expression marred his pristine, porcelain skin.

'I was not mistaken then; she was indeed inside that coach.'

Richard, still bewildered by the uncertainty of the situation, regarded the man with a questioning gaze, his heart sinking into a bottomless sea of uneasiness. With

worry lacing his voice, he then inquired, "So, Your Holiness, you were not the one who sent this

letter?"

Without wasting a single moment on futile discussions, Altair carelessly discarded the crumpled piece of paper and commanded in a resolute tone,

"Fetch me a horse this instant, Mirion!"

Turning to his assistant, he issued another directive,

"Retrieve my sword."

"Your Holiness, Sir Logan Vold is accompanying Her Ladyship; I'm certain such measures will be unnecessary."

The butler attempted to allay the man's excessive concern, but Altair was already in motion. With a skillful leap, he mounted the offered horse and swiftly retrieved his long sword from his assistant's hands, immediately galloping back toward the road leading to the Temple.

As he quickly galloped through the dense forest, his mind was engulfed in an overwhelming sea of nerve-wracking suspense.

'Who would target her, of all people? She has neither friends nor enemies... And my people would never be involved in this.'

Shaking his silver head, he attempted to dispel these futile emotions and whispered softly, his words carried away by the wind,

"Stay safe, Rosalie. We've come too far to let anything happen to you."

***

Altair brought his horse to a sudden halt, his eyes fixed on the sight of a broken carriage and two lifeless male bodies lying nearby. With purposeful strides, he approached the scene, casting searching glances in every direction, hoping to find some clue that could shake his very core.

Thankfully, his fears were unfounded.

The man gently tapped his long, slender fingers on the shattered roof of the black coach, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"They have resorted to breaking the carriage, attempting to mask it as a mere robbery... How pitiful."

Altair remarked with a mix of disdain and amusement.

He then gracefully lowered himself in front of the motionless figure of the familiar red-haired man adorned in the distinguished Imperial Knight uniform. Sliding his hand over the knight's face and clothes, Altair observed as the skin began to shimmer with all hues of purple, reflecting the gentle sunlight filtering through the foliage.

"Opium-based sleeping powder, the kind exclusively used in the Tulip Room... And a generous amount at that. Enough to kill a horse... Hahaha!"

Altair's laughter rang through the forest, though he quickly reined in his mirth and covered his eyes with his other palm.

"You are a reckless fool! Your blinding lust for the forbidden will ultimately lead to your downfall!"

As his initial excitement waned, giving way to a mix of anger and restlessness, Altair placed two fingers between his lips and emitted a sharp, resounding whistle that reverberated through the surrounding forest.

In response to his commanding call, a man cloaked in shabby black attire emerged from the shadows of the trees, his entire face concealed by a black fabric mask, leaving only two holes for his vision. The mysterious figure approached Altair cautiously, positioning himself as a loyal guard.

"Did you witness it?"

"Yes, My Lord."

The masked man's reply seeped through the black cloths.

"Where did they take her?"

"They departed in the direction of the Eastern border, heading toward the trading gate."

Altair stood up with a weary sigh, his mind preoccupied with the cryptic response from his companion. The air around them was still, save for the occasional gusts of the September wind whispering through the mighty trees. Finally, the enigmatic man in black broke the silence, seeking guidance from his Lord.

"What should we do, My Lord?"

Altair slowly raised his hand and pressed it against the back of his neck, feeling a small, scared outline on the skin beneath his fingertips. The unpleasant stinging sensation of the mark burning his flesh was beginning to become intolerable which made him even more annoyed.

Altair released another long sigh before responding with conviction,

"Proceed as planned."

The masked man attempted to reason with him, his voice tinged with concern, but Altair silenced him with a stern gesture and furrowed his eyebrows.

"This is an order."

"...Yes, My Lord."

He offered a courtly bow and vanished back into the shadows of the forest. Altair listened to the faint rustle of the trees, as if tracking his subordinate's movements with his acute senses. He touched the mark on the back of his neck once more and closed his eyes, a wave of anxiety and anger washing over him like a giant, heavy surge.

"It's just a minor setback. It's better to root him out now, anyway."