The Implock – Chapter 114 – “The Archduke”

∼ The Archduke ∼

Chapter - 114

Frozen in place, Aria could not respond. The man. The enemy. Was standing before her, asking her for a dance. He wasn't supposed to be here. Zechariah had sworn that the man could not stand noble gatherings and only his daughter attended them to gain influence. But... here he was.

"I apologize for being presumptuous," he said, meeting her eyes from his bow. "but I couldn't help but notice that such a lovely young lady was standing all by her lonesome. No gentleman could walk past without it being a slight. So, may I have this dance?"

His words were well-spoken without the background of nobility behind it. Both contradictory and true to his workman's appearance. He was wearing nothing but a simple suit that fit him very well. Clean and neat, without a single superfluous ornament or decoration on his person. He wasn't particularly handsome like Matthias, however, he put off an overwhelmingly put-together charm.

This was no ordinary man.

Not knowing what to do or say, Aria did the only thing she could think of. Stiffly, he reached out and took his hand, finding it rough, calloused, and strong. The older man gave a gentle smile and then led her through the ballroom.

The music picked up, and before she knew it, Crowley had led her into the motions. Flying through the ballroom, she was shocked to find how good of a dancer he was. She herself had learned under her mother for those years she could remember her, and though she could not recall much, she quickly fell into a pace. Crowley moved not with the elegance of talent but with simple expertise. It made her forget the tension. The worry. The anxiety.

At that moment, the worries of the world fell away for the first time since her mother had left. Left to the instruments of her father.

Aria's and Eric's eyes met for an instant, the world standing still as they passed each other on the floor, shock reading on Eric's face and panic on Aria's. Then they were past each other, Eric and Frey lost in the crowd, swinging around in fluid motions. As the music came to a halt, Crowley slowed.

"Thank you, miss. I hope that lent some respite from these... dreary festivities."

Fretfully, a distracted Aria just nodded.

Another tune started playing, this one more upbeat. Crowley looked up and smiled, looking as if he was about to offer another dance. But that smile died the instant a small pig-faced man with over-trimmed eyebrows and a thin mustache came over, barely bowing. It was the Archduke. Alberto von Caldshire III.

"Could I cut in here, miss? I could not get my eyes off... your dance, so I had to ask you myself."

"N-" Crowley was about to say.

However, Aria interrupted. "Y-yes,"

Frowning, he looked down at her, a pensive expression on his face as he tilted his head. Aria curtsied to the older man, then hesitantly took the Archduke's pale hand. Crowley looked constipated, a thinly-hidden veneer of disgust and pity on his face as he stared after the Archduke leading Aria away.

The crowd parted for Aria and the Archduke. All waited for them to start. Back was the anxiety, worry, and discomfort, rushing back as if a tidal flood. She had not realized how much at ease Crowley had made her, but now that she stood with the Archduke, she could feel shivers run through her body.

His hands were sweaty. He stank of cologne. And his stare... lecherous.

Aria wanted nothing more than to bolt, yet could not. Too much relied on this, on her succeeding. She would have to bear it.

"Miss," The Archduke said with a slight bow, smiling to reveal almost blindingly-white teeth.

He put his hands on his waist, too low for comfort, then they danced. Although she was loathed to admit it, he was quite the dancer. Not surprising, however, considering he was the Archduke. About as high on the nobility ladder as one could get. But as he continued to not-so-subtlety grope her and close in, close enough that Aria was pretty sure he had just leaned in to sniff her hair, she had to bite her tongue not scream in revulsion.

Before the music had even ended, he leaned in as they slowed and lent her ear.

"You are... most extraordinary. Shall we... retreat? Come," He waited not even for an answer as he began pulling her away, Aria reluctantly following without a word.

As they crossed the floor and began ascending the curving stairs, Aria searched desperately for Eric. However, even from her vantage point, he was nowhere to be seen. Not him, not Freya. They were... gone? There was only one person, a stout, powerfully-built man with his arms linked behind his back that stood out from the crowd. Victor Crowley, staring up at her with a strange frown.

The door closed with a bang, making Aria flinch. The Archduke didn't even seem to notice as he waddled past her, his veneer of decorum and restraint seemingly falling away for every step they took away from the people.

Standing in an overly-decorated office that looked almost more akin to a throne room, Aria fidgeted nervously as she looked around. Anywhere but at the lecherous man who was pouring two glasses of bright-red wine. Crimson enough to match even Aria's locks.

"Imagine my surprise," He started, handing her the glass of wine. "when I saw such a beauty in my halls. I could simply not resist,"

"That crimson hair. Your grace. Your elegance. There's no mistaking it."

He took a handful of her hair and pressed his nose to it, breathing it in. "You must be from a noble line, at the very least. Tell me, how did an elf of your standing - end up in my halls?"

"I-I-" Aria stammered.

"I've never had an elf, quite like you." He leaned in aggressively for a kiss.

Flinching away, he grabbed her wrist in an iron grip, making her drop her glass as it shattered on the ground.

"Come, entertain me!"

"L-let go!"

"Don't play nrgh- coy with me! We both know you want this, you elf slut!" He grunted out to Aria's best efforts of fending him off.

Lodging his grubby hands in the neck of her dress, he tried to tear it off.

"W-wait! N-no, stop!"

She flailed, accidentally backhanding him.

"You..." He muttered, wide-eyed with incredulity that quickly turned to anger.

Then the sounds of screams and chaos erupted outside the office.

It had started.

The Archduke blinked, looking past her. Then a sneer overtook his face, making him even more pig-faced than he already was. The air suddenly changed, the room saturated with mana. Such unbridled power. But before he could string together his spell, a cloud of powder enveloped him as Aria blew the contents of Zechariah's pouch into his face, making him sputter.

"You little-" He tried to say but stopped as he shook his head confusedly, the mana in the air suddenly dissipating as he lost focus. "What is this?! W-what.... what is.... what?" Stumbling back, he collapsed, struggling feebly to get back to his feet even as his body gave out.

"I'll... I'll have your... head... you-"

Panting in fear and panic Aria stood over the unconscious form of the Archduke, moaning away defenselessly. But she felt anything but safe. She felt filthy. Disgusting. She wanted out of this castle. Out of this dress. She wanted to burn it and drown herself in the lake, so she might get the feel of his touch off her.

Aria jumped when the door to the office opened, and in walked a man clad in dark clothes.

"G-good... you're here..." She sighed. "I did as he said, now let me and my friends go. We want nothing more to do with this farce!"

The man did not respond as he wordlessly passed her. An odor of the ocean was left in his wake.

Frowning, Aria did not understand as the man began drawing a dagger.

"W-what are you-" Her question was cut off by her own gasp as the man suddenly jammed the dagger up through the Archduke's jaw.

The pig-faced man spasmed, then went lip.

He had murdered the Archduke...

Frozen in place, Aria could only stumble back as the man got back up and began approaching her. Reaching out for her, he was inches from her wrist when a sudden blur panged off a hastily-drawn parry. Sliding back a few feet, the assassin fell into a fighting stance.

Aria looked back and saw - Nyx.

"Fucking humans, and their games..." The demon muttered.