The Marí

Part.24

Your Grace! You shouldn't be here" Hena's voice suddenly rang out of nowhere, soft yet urgent, as she darted past the looming figure, her body instinctively shielding my nearly naked form.

"Hena, I assume everything is in order?" The man's voice was smooth, almost lazy, but there was an unmistakable edge to his words. "Though it seems you've failed to keep your dog on a leash," he added, his footsteps slowing just enough to make his presence more pronounced.

I squinted, straining to catch a glimpse of the man who had been my supposed savior. But Hena, with her round, solid frame, stood firm in front of me, blocking my view entirely. All I could make out were his long, powerfully built legs draped in blood-red pantaloons, embroidered with intricate black and gold thread, the designs gleaming faintly in the dim light. I inhaled sharply, my curiosity piqued, and leaned forward ever so slightly, but Hena let out a heavy sigh, making it clear she wanted to keep me hidden.

"I assure you, Your Grace, this won't happen again," Hena stammered, her voice trembling with embarrassment. She glanced back nervously at Simon. "Right, Simon?"

Simon stood rigid, his face a mask of barely contained fury. His piercing blue eyes glinted dangerously and his clenched fists betrayed his growing rage. His veins pulsed at his temples, as if the beast within him threatened to break free. "Surely, Cassius," he sneered, emphasizing the name with venom.
"You can forgive this little man, just this once, can't you... uncle?" His mocking tone sliced through the tension like a blade, his arms spread wide as if daring Cassius to respond.

Cassius chuckled darkly, the sound carrying an ancient menace that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "Teach your dog some manners, Hena," he said, his voice laced with something sinister, a hidden danger that hung in the air like a storm on the horizon.

Hena visibly shuddered, her body quaking as she gulped down a lungful of cold air. Without hesitation, she collapsed to the floor, bowing low.
"Please, Your Grace," she begged, her voice wavering as she tugged Simon down beside her.
"He's only a child. I beg your pardon on his behalf."

Cassius was silent for a long, agonizing moment, the tension thickening around us. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but cutting. "For your sake, Hena, I will let it go this time. But understand," his tone darkened, "I will not be so forgiving next time."

He turned to leave, his footsteps heavy on the marble floor, but not before pausing briefly. His head tilted slightly, and he sniffed the air deeply, as though savoring something unseen. With that, he left, his presence lingering in the room like a dark cloud, an oppressive force that made it hard to breathe. The aura he left behind screamed of dominance, a power so vast it threatened to consume everything in its path.

Simon followed soon after, his jaw clenched in frustration, his movements sharp and rigid as he stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with a disoriented Hena.

"Come now, child," Hena muttered softly, her voice laced with weariness. "It's time. Unfortunately, Her Majesty won't be joining us as planned."

I let out a deep, shaky breath as Hena wrapped me in a warm embrace, her comforting presence momentarily chasing away the chill that clung to me. Her arms tightened around me, and for a moment, I felt safe.

"Goodness," she murmured, pulling back to inspect me. Her eyes filled with concern as her fingers gently combed through my tangled hair. "What happened to your hair? Have you been crying, you poor thing?" Her voice was a soft coo, the kind that made me want to curl up in her arms and forget everything.

It was in moments like these that I never quite understood Hena. Sometimes she was gentle and motherly, her touch tender and warm. Other times, she was strict, distant, her eyes cold and indifferent.