Chapter 49

2954 Words
The next few days had mostly been filled with plans to send Misa and Torren to Harthem. Misa couldn't look Royle in the eye for the most part, and she only ever went to talk to him when Torren was included in their discussion. Even when Misa snuck to the dungeon in between meal breaks, late in the night, and the early mornings to see Leira, it was through Torren's assistance and not Royle's. For one, she could not trust that Royle would watch out for her during her visits, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to avoid another intimate moment if she was to be alone with him, especially during the dark hours of the night. Even now, as she sat next to Torren, watching Royle trace a finger across a piece of paper, she squirmed, almost feeling—wanting—that hand along her own cheek. She hadn't expected Royle to be so distant himself, and for some reason, it made her heart sink. It was for the best, she thought, but perhaps leaving so abruptly wasn't the best decision that night. It had left an awkward rift between them that she was certain would never be fixed. She blinked, flushing at the sudden attention on her. "P-pardon?" "Were you even listening?" he shook his head, still acting as if he hadn't almost kissed her just four nights ago. Torren chuckled from beside her. "You've been quite distracted. We're going over this for the tenth time, and you still haven't gotten the basics of it." "Torren's leave of absence has been approved," Royle said, "And I've got word from Commander Vortham that he'll be more than willing to have you in his purgehouse." "Fantastic," Misa drawled. She schooled her expression at the sharp glare Royle shot at her. "When you're there, be sure to keep out of trouble. If you can, find a witch other than Rithian to teach you how to control yourself. You'll need to figure out how to cloak your magic if you want to hide it from dangerous witches like her." Misa tapped the black bracelet at the mention of Rithian. Somehow, she doubted it would be that easy to find another witch to teach her. Rithian would have made sure she left a mark claiming Misa as her own to train, and she had a feeling the bracelet played a part in warning off other witches. Torren shuddered. "A city full of witches. I can't believe one of them has to teach her their ways." His brows creased in worry. "You be sure to not let them corrupt your mind, Misa. Always remember that you're not one of them." A short huff from the captain told Misa Torren's words had annoyed him. Misa merely smiled. "I know, Torren." She watched Royle through her peripheral vision as she said, "And don't worry about it. I plan on getting rid of the magic as soon as I find a witch who can take it." Royle stabbed his finger onto the map he laid out for them, making sure the thump it created was hard enough to rattle the table. "I've marked every shop owned by a witch and every bar, inn, and brothel they've been known to gather in. Witches have a meet every week, and you'll be expected to join them once they find out you're residing in Harthem. Keep a low profile and don't attract too much attention to yourself. You should be safe from Nisha when you're with them, but I don't know how long that's going to last. I'll join you as soon as I can. Don't do anything stupid while you're alone." "She won't be alone," Torren assured. "I'll be with her every step of the way." Royle rubbed his forehead. "That's what I'm afraid of. Torren, you must understand that the laws in Harthem are different from Giligha. They're much more lax with witches because the cityfolk there tend to have a lot of dealings in the witch market. Witches won't be your only enemy if you try to shake things up. Restrain yourself even if you see a witch. You are not to arrest them without proof, and even then, you must remember you're on leave, not on duty. Leave it to Harthem's purgehouses to take care of them." Torren shrugged, holding up his hands. "Whatever you say, Royle. I'm just there to make sure nothing happens to her." Misa tried not to sigh. She still didn't like the idea of going back to Harthem, especially as a cadet, but she had no choice. In the few days since the 'incident' with Royle, she had blacked out twice more, the second time waking up hours after she lost consciousness, and each time feeling even more drained than the last. "I'm taking Min-Min with me," Misa said, wishing her furry friend was with her during the stressful phase she'd gone through since receiving Tika's magic. "I'm sure you'll understand." Royle shook his head, almost in exasperation. "I don't like it, but I already know I won't be able to stop you. I'd think Torren is enough support." "Torren is a good friend," Misa said, giving the lieutenant a quick smile, "but he hasn't known me for nearly as long as Min-Min. And with all this magic business going around, I think it'll do me some good to have another companion who understands. So, when do we leave?" Royle rubbed his chin. "I have a carriage ready to depart tomorrow. Belmon was more than happy to take you there again, and I've already informed him that Torren will be accompanying you." "Tomorrow?" Misa jolted. She had promised to meet Leira until the girl was taken away. Misa hadn't expected to be leaving so soon. "Is there a problem with that?" Royle had a raised brow in question. Misa averted her gaze, unwilling to meet his eyes, but only succeeded in staring at his lips. "What will happen to Leira?" Misa asked, tearing her eyes away and watching her fingers instead. "Leira?" "Raki, I mean." Misa clenched her hands together. "She's been down there for nearly a week now. When will they let her go?" "Ah." The captain tilted his head. "I believe she's due in court sometime today. She'll be back, of course. This is only a matter of deciding what to do with her." Misa's stomach flipped. "Today?" "She has already been informed." "Can I watch?" "That's not a bad idea," Torren said. "I can't attend, so Misa can fill in for the both of us." Royle didn't answer, and Misa forced herself to look at him. His brows were knitted in thought, and his deep, dark eyes were intensely unfocused, mapping a plan on a piece of paper that only he could see. The calculation that Misa still shuddered to watch. Finally, he was back with them, and his gaze locked on hers. Not for long, though, because Misa's eyes darted away a split second after. "I believe that can be arranged." Frankly, Misa was surprised. She had expected him to flatly refuse her with some excuse about it being too dangerous for her to go to such a public place when her magic was so unstable, but he had given her his approval. Misa narrowed her eyes. She didn't trust that he would give in so easily, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that her presence at the court would achieve some goal of his. Especially after he'd gone through his phase of planning and calculating her footsteps. She didn't want to be a pawn in his game again, but there was no way she was going to let her friend brave through the humiliation alone. "Are you going to pull something again?" Misa asked. "Pull something?" "Don't play dumb. You know what I'm talking about. You would usually refuse." Misa squared her shoulders. "Unless you were going to gain something from it. Like when you tricked me into getting into trouble." "Misa, I'm sure it's not like that," Torren interjected. "Royle doesn't always twist a situation to achieve some goal. Sometimes, it is what it is, and he doesn't read any deeper into it than it appears." "That's right," Royle agreed smoothly, flattening the wrinkles on his uniform. He kept his eyes on Misa, and they never left for the rest of the meet. Misa had to look away, but her skin still rose with goosebumps, and she didn't like the twinge of guilt, like she had done or said something wrong that would get her in trouble—a feeling she'd come accustomed to whenever she snuck out of the house, only to return in fear of getting caught by her father. "I've only been to Harthem twice before," Torren said, staring at the map in thought. "Once was when I was barely older than half. I wonder if these shops were always there, run by witches." "They've been there for a long time. It wouldn't surprise me if they've established themselves over the course of years, earning the trust of the public to the point they'd be untouchable." Torren shuddered. "Cunning things, aren't they?" "Not all of them are." Royle still watched Misa as he said this. She fidgeted in her seat, refusing to return his intense stare. "I believe we've covered everything. You're free to go. I shouldn't keep you from your duties for much longer, especially when you need to work ahead to prepare for your leave." "Yup," Torren said. He gathered the scattered papers on the table, tucking them all in a neat pile. "And I need to review all this as well. Knowing Nisha is in Harthem doesn't sit well with me, so the best course of action would be to learn as much of her as I can." "A wise choice," Royle said. "Good luck, Lieutenant." "Good luck to you, too, Captain." Torren stood and walked to the door, pausing when his hand reached the knob. "Misa? Are you coming?" Relief flooded Misa, and she nodded. "Yeah." "Actually." Misa's blood ran cold. "We need to make arrangements for Misa's attendance to court. Why don't you go ahead and get started on your work? Misa and I need to have a little chat." Misa looked at Torren, panic in her eyes. She hoped he'd be able to read them, to hear her silent pleas for help. But, Torren, clueless, oblivious Torren, only smiled in enthusiasm and bade them farewell. The door shutting behind him sealed Misa's fate. They were alone. Misa swallowed, suddenly needing water to wash down the thick lump that had formed in her throat. She chose to examine her nails, picking at them and clicking them together. "Misa," Royle drawled. Misa kept her eyes on her nails. They were long. She needed to cut them, especially on her index finger, where it had been chipped from one of Misa's chores. "Yes, Captain?" Royle exhaled loudly. Misa could hear the irritation behind it. "It's back to 'Captain,' is it?" Misa didn't reply. It was a bad idea to be in a private room, all alone with him. She had almost made a mistake last time, and she wasn't sure she'd have the luck with which she escaped this time. Not when Royle would make sure to not have another interruption should he decide to...initiate it again. "You've been avoiding me," he stated. A fact, not a question. They both knew it, but Misa didn't want to admit it. "No, I haven't. We've just been too busy to meet again, that's all. And besides, it would be too suspicious if we kept meeting privately. The purgehouse might start thinking there's something going on. What if they think we're having some sort of illicit affair? You, the captain of a purgehouse, with a cadet, a boy under your authority. It wouldn't look good at all." "You think I haven't thought about that?" Misa snorted. "Of course, you have. You're Royle Bentham, master of calculating everything before executing it. Of course, you'd take that into account. So, isn't it obvious that I am not, in fact, avoiding you?" "Is that what this is about?" There was a dangerous edge in his voice. Misa hoped she wasn't making a mistake in pushing him. "Are you still mad about the dungeon incident?" "Don't be ridiculous," Misa retorted, glaring at the window behind Royle's desk. At the sun that poured through and warmed the room. "I was merely answering your question." "You're lying." "Lying?" Misa clenched her jaw, unwilling to admit that he was right. "About what?" "You're still avoiding me." "No, I'm not," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm talking to you, aren't I?" Royle stood and stepped into her line of sight. Misa's heart leaped, and she snapped her head to the table in front of her. "Then why do you refuse to look at me? Why do you refuse to face me?" Misa remained silent. Not because of shame or guilt or humiliation but because there was simply nothing she could say. They both knew he spoke the truth, but Misa was not willing to confirm it, and she was most definitely not going to admit to him that she was afraid of what would happen if she dared to meet his eyes. Royle returned to his seat with a sigh. He clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. "You don't trust me either, do you? Everything I do, you question if it's for an ulterior motive. Is it that difficult to believe I can make decisions without incorporating them into my plans?" "You certainly haven't made it easy," Misa said. "And it's especially difficult to believe you would allow me to attend Leira's trial out of the goodness of your heart when you would otherwise logically point out why it wouldn't be possible. My...'condition,' for one. I find it hard to believe you would let me go out in public when Tika's magic have bouts of explosions that leave me incapacitated. Should anyone take me to a doctor while I'm unconscious, they could find out that I'm not a boy." Royle took a moment to process her words. Even now, Misa could feel him churning everything she said into a cohesive list that he could counter. She could practically see the calculations running through his head, trying to dispute her claims. She tensed, anger quivering her whole being. He was doing it. Again. Misa wanted to tell him to stop. She wanted to tell him that pulling apart her argument only served to prove her right. But before she could get a single sound out of her mouth, he shocked her into silence. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I seem to have given off a bad impression." And there it was again. That wriggling doubt that ate away at her, making her question if apologising was only a calculated step that Royle took because it would take her by surprise. "It's hardly a bad impression," Misa rasped, squeezing her hands together. "You broke my trust. You lied to me. You manipulated my every move by using my emotions against me. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know what to believe. What's to say that you aren't doing that very thing right now?" "Then why don't you tell me, Misa?" A hint of anger seeped into his tone. "What could I possibly gain from permitting you to be there for your friend when she's about to be put on trial? What's in it for me?" "How should I know?" Misa threw her arms up. "I don't think like you. I can't manipulate people like that. I don't hide my true intentions and act like I care! I'm sure it's some convoluted plan you've set up. Perhaps you wanted me to faint in public. For what reason, I don't know. But I'm sure there's something." "That's how low you think of me?" Every word was clipped. Sharp with disbelief and hurt and anger. "Then look into my eyes and say it. Stop avoiding me and say it while you face me." A challenge. Misa hesitated, heart pounding at the mere thought of looking at him. The thoughts he had left her with that night. The thought that she had been bewitched by him. It terrified her beyond belief that she'd have such strong feelings for someone when she knew it would be inevitable that they would part. And it terrified her to think she might not have been bewitched at all. That she would look at him and still have this distrust and suspicion, and what she felt that night would have merely been a trap planted there by his calculating mind. That she would be forced to question his every motive, his every decision, his every word, and in turn question everything he had done for her in the past. But Misa knew she couldn't run away from it forever. It was something she had to face, and as much as she was tempted to continue avoiding him until the next day, when she wouldn't have to see him again for a while, Misa knew it would plague her even in Harthem. Misa had to face him or agonise over it without truly knowing the answer. Misa knew well which choice she had to make, and though it might hurt her, it would also release her from its hold. Just like it had when she left her parents. So, steeling her every nerve, preparing her mind for what she would see, Misa raised her head and finally met the captain head on.
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