I Will Hold Your Hand Gently

Chapter 39: The Carving on the Carriage

An elderly man clips away the disease growing on the leaves of his plant. He is dressed in a warm, neutral-toned coat, with his grey hair slightly parted to the side. His fingers are long and wrinkled from age, and his deep blue eyes are hooded behind his eyelids. He brushes medicine onto his plant before giving it some water. As he gently and slowly places it back on the window sill, a knock at the door catches his attention.

"Enter..." he spoke in a soft, low voice.

A young man in his late twenties, dressed as a butler, enters the room and greets the elderly man. The elderly man sets his plant-grooming equipment to the side as he directs his attention to the young man.

"My lord, Five will be attending the Royal Ball along with Duke Sigma tomorrow," said the young man.

"Five...?" The elderly man pondered the name, "Remind me, who was that again?"

"She is the illegitimate child of Lord Henry," the young man answered.

"Ah..." The elderly man's voice was thick with contempt as he uttered the words, his expression twisting into one of disdain, "The filthy creature who was substituted for my precious granddaughter, Angel..."

He slowly turned toward the table that sat at the center of the room. The table was set simply yet elegantly, a gleaming teapot at its center, surrounded by fine porcelain cups, their surfaces polished to a soft sheen. A few tea leaves of the day's chosen blend, no doubt carefully selected, had already been steeped in the pot, and the air around it carried the faint fragrance of herbs and warm, earthy undertones.

The old man reached for the teapot, his fingers curling delicately around the handle, though his grasp was firm. He tilted it slowly, watching the amber liquid pour into the cup. The color deepened as it filled the cup, a rich golden hue that glinted faintly in the light.

"I'm surprised that Savage didn't tear the pig we sent into pieces..." said the elderly man as he picked up a small, delicate spoon to stir the tea, "Has that beast fallen in love with it? Perhaps that thing has done at least something useful..."

The elderly man smirked evilly, placing the spoon to the side before drinking the tea to warm up his shriveled old body. As he set the cup back down, he turned his gaze back to the young man.

"Juan, inform Henry he is to attend the Ball as well," said the elderly man, "His daughter might be missing him, and as a parent myself, I would like to know how my own child is doing."

Juan nodded at the elderly man's words, understanding the underlying meaning. He closed the door behind him with a soft click before leaving the room. The elderly man poured himself another drink, watching as the clear amber liquid fell from the mouth of the pot.

"Fang..."

"Yes, Master," a voice from the shadows suddenly spoke.

"Gather information from the spies we've planted in the Sigma Estate. Find out why that Savage hasn't done as we predicted."

"As you wish, Master," said the voice before vanishing into thin air.

The elderly man took a breath of the warm tea, "How unusual... With no Guide, and taking in the pills, he should have lost his mind just from seeing anything that came from the Spheral House... No Espers can resist the madness and pain from the accumulated miasma inside them for so long... Moreover, that thing isn't even a Guide..."

He reached for the spoon again but paused midway, "Could it be...?"

His voice lingered in the still of the quiet night. The reflection of the tea mirrored the evil glare in his eyes, "Perhaps the day that Savage and those filthy stains on the Kingdom will meet their end sooner than expected."