THE FORTUNIST

56. Leurayssa

“Jacque clover can only be harvested in the Tai and cannot flourish anywhere else within or outside Albeny.”

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The moment Leurayssa stood at the cafeteria to stare at the projectors from which no one ever watched, she had known that Lay Denwin would win his match with Mose Zia. Somewhere deep within her she had always known. Right from the moment she congratulated him for a score hundred without knowing it was impossible.

Even cryfix magic was impossible! No other country had it. No one could decipher its origin. So what if she, a commoner had zero percent cryfix affinity and what if Lay had the exact opposite? Who was anyone to tell them NO?

And Anarella? Maybe Anarella had not been the point of this whole saga. Maybe Leurayssa had just needed an excuse to leave the nest and search for her own adventure just like Anarella had done.

Perhaps she is exactly where she needed to be. With Anarella missing and Zephyr nowhere to be found. With Lay fighting in her name and she impersonating Ciara Mulden. With Feng still alive after a strange purple man had cut out a small squarish glinting object from his shoulder. Feng had claimed it was his house cryfix and even Lay had found that hard to believe. Who the hell puts a cryfix in a person???

She was burdening Lay too much. He did not have to lift a finger if he were not so honourable. From his fighting skills, Leurayssa knew with conviction that lay could have pinned her to the ground in seconds, forcefully snatch the drawing and not leave any payment. Leurayssa was thus certain that Lay was a good friend to have and that when his match was over, she would give him his well deserved drawing. She would tell him every truth about it right from the time Anarella had shown the original copy to her for the first time. She would offer to help him anyway she could.

She was already making peace with her sister's whereabouts, planning in her head how to sneak out of Albenarum for good after giving Lay the drawing. These thoughts were all happy thoughts as she watched the projector screen— listening to the anticipating audience and commentaries before the match proceeded. They were the last thoughts she had the liberty to mull over before a hand crushed her windpipe from behind, effectively knocking her out.

Even as she wakes up now, there are the first thoughts she thinks of as if she asked her brain to continue where they left off.

She massages her throat, rising and examining her surroundings for the first time. She pushes her head against the bars of the cell, trying to see beyond as far as she can. Her keen eyes do not stray however when it lands on red spots on the outside walls. "Are those bloodstains?" she cannot help but mouth in disbelief feeling as though she would burst if she locks up the suspicion in her mind.

"You need not worry about that."

Her head snaps as she notices the person in the cell with her for the first time. She draws in a harsh loud breath.

The present Lord General of Albeny is no doubt younger than he looks. Seeing him face to face, he looks pathetically older with his mop of shocking white hair, beard, and puffy eyes. He is bigboned and chubby.

She reminds herself that this man is dangerous. This had been the man with the strangest fortune. The man who had been powerful enough to abduct the heir of Lemohn House. This is a desperate man.

"I see you recognize me."

"I go to Albenarum now," she says pointedly. She looks at her free working limbs and wonders if Xihan does not consider her dangerous enough. She shifts to the farthest part of the wall, sinking against it and hoping it would suck her in.

"It's just me and you in here, Ciara Mulden. Speaking heart to heart." The man is sitting with his knees dragged up to his chin and his arms wrapped around them.