Chapter 538 - Mulciber Citadel Ⅲ (1/2)
Lost in her own thoughts, Meredith did not rise from her bed and lock the door to her bedchambers as per usual and failed to hear the sound of arrogant footsteps approaching down the hall. Without any manners or warning, the door swings open to reveal the golden-haired figure of her second born, Damian Mulciber. With a terrible smile he leans against the doorway and says, ”Why mother how utterly forgetful of you to not lock the door.”
Meredith's hands hidden beneath the bedsheets clench terribly together in fear at hearing her second-born's words. Doing her best to hide her fear, she hides it under her usual unease. With a weary, exasperated sigh, she says, ”And just what is it that you need Damian?”
Damian sneers as he walks over to her bedside and says, ”Who visited you this afternoon, mother? And do not dare lie to me for I saw Beat polluting the manor air, and not in the kitchens in its place.”
Meredith clenches the bedsheets even more, but with great effort forces her voice not to give herself away with a quiver. ”What guest?” She feigned innocence. ”There was no guest, Damian. I merely requested that Beat clean the inner manor thoroughly once again as your father will be hosting guests later this evening.” (Which was true and not a lie.)
Damian does not appear to be convinced but tries another method. With a ruthless grin, he turns away from his mother as if to leave, before pausing and saying over his shoulder. ”Then I suppose that you won't mind if I have a chat with that mangy creature, right mother?”
Meredith merely closes her eyes as if tired and murmurs, ”Do what you must, Damian, but your father will not be pleased if Beat is unable to perform his duties in front of his guests.”
Damian snorts in disdain and is about to leave when Meredith mutters, ”Take care, Damian for even a house elf can rebel against its masters.”
Damian whirls around and stares at his mother through narrow slit eyes. ”Is that a threat, you, miserable, old wretch?!”
”No,” Meredith truthfully replied, ”but do not forget, the elder brother of Beat was very cunning. He forced the hand of your father and tricked him earning his own freedom.”
Damian flushes in humiliation and anger as he recalled the story. It was the greatest unspoken disgrace of the Mulciber family, but the house elf had earned its freedom. And worst of all, it still lived under the protection of the Prince household. It had been even more humiliating to learn of that fact during the Prince's summit for their serving and leading the wizards was the blasted creature!
”Whore, know your place!” Damian roared, before whirling away and slamming the door behind him. Further down the hallway, he grabs an expensive china case and throws it to the ground shattering it. He goes on a tirade until at last the entire expanse of the hallway has been destroyed to his satisfaction.
Panting Damian runs one of his hand's through his hair, before straightening out his cuff and jacket. ��Beat!” He shouted impatiently to only see the miserable creature appear.
Barely withholding himself from sending a flying kick at the disgusting thing, Damian gestured to the mess behind him. ”Clean it up!” Before retreating to his bedroom to fume and think, before the guests arrived.
”Yes, young master,” Beat groveled, before hurrying to magical piece the vases and other trashed items together before the guests of Mulciber arrive.
One by one the guests begin to arrive all males and their sons. It was a private gentlemen's gathering and only males would be allowed in attendance. Standing at the door greeting his guests is Mulciber Sr. and his son, Damian. And since it was an only wizard gathering, Meredith Mulciber was not present in attendance.
Mulciber nods his head at the blond, pasty white figure with broad shoulders, and a flabby stomach, Livus Rowle. Following close behind Livus at his side is his son, Thorfinn, also a blond, and pasty white, however unlike his father still heavily muscled. There was a cruelty and impatient in his gaze as he rudely glanced around and sneered at some of those in attendance.
Following closely behind is the figure of Rosier Sr. The large, burly man is unable to hide the cold anger therein. The two wizards once friends ignore each other's existence as Rosier brushes into the Mulciber home without even a word to the host.
Shaking his head in exasperation from behind Rosier is the shorter, sharp witted figure of Nott Sr. ”My apologies for Rosier's rudeness, Mulciber,” Nott Sr. said.
”There is no need,” Mulciber graciously lied. ”We all know that ever since his son's passing away, he has never been the same.”
”True enough,” Nott Sr. mumbled, before gesturing to his son's. His eldest Dorian, and his youngest, Thaddeus. The men are slightly taller than their father, but not by much. However, they politely greet Mulciber, before entering the hallway.