Chapter 522: Lord Amsey (1/2)
”No need to rub it in,” the evening grew darker and somber. About a few days ago, Jen had surgery under the watchful gaze of Clarise. Post-operation showed her body quickly adapted and accepted the less than the humane arm. They proclaimed with certainty that the lady would heal in the next few months. Lampard and the others were given the green-light to return to the academy. Leonard chose to remain at Rotherham and work until Jen was able to return in full health.
”Igna,” said a figure dressed in warm and comfortable clothes, ”-are you going to sit mindlessly gazing at the rising stars, or are we moving out?” two brown medium-sized cases dropped to shake the bench.
”Anna,” said he staring her recovered face, she seemed to do better as proved the visible expressions and little gestures here and there, ”-where did all this stuff come from?” the slouched posture straightened, ”-being unconscious for so many months doesn't magically bring about luggage…”
”Oh please,” she slapped his head, ”-it's gifts from visitors. They gave more than I'd like to accept,” a general tinge of crimson ambered her cheeks and easily be mistaken for make-up. Not here, not now, the redness came from the cold outside.
”The body is still trying to adjust to the norm?” wondered he sternly grabbing the cases.
”Yeah,” she motioned as if to hide under the puffy jacket, ”-didn't know Rotherham got so cold at night.”
”Rotherham's on a higher plateau than the other places. Doesn't jump to the eye since the slopes are gentle and unnoticed.”
”Look at that,” she warmly patted his back, ”-aren't you the smart one.”
”Stop with the sarcasm,” they headed along the gravel path. A car hugged the curb and waited patiently. The clear night reflected off the black body.
”Igna,” said a voice on the other side of the vehicle, ”-are you sure you don't want a plane to take you home?” asked the Prince peeping over the roof.
”A lift to the train-station is enough,” said he opening the booth, ”-can't get too overly dependent on Phantom and mother's resources.”
”Yeah sure,” said he, ”-see you soon, cousin.”
Before exchanging goodbyes, ”-Cousin,” whispered Igna to the knowledge of none, ”-about the thing we discussed, the Goldberg's, can you do something about it?”
”Yeah,” he sorted the oiled blond-hair, ”-I'll try talking to them. If not, we can arrange for the girl to suddenly find that a distant relative who left a big enough inheritance to arouse the nose of greedy bastards.”
”I'd rather you stick to discussing. I know we don't really need to save and be mindful of money, still, feels weird to not have any respect for it.”
”Please,” the tone deepened, ”-cousin, you must never respect money for tis the culprit that forces a person into slavery, tis it that forces a brother to kill another, a wife to cheat, a boyfriend to lie, a friend to betray, a child to work, and a man to ruin. There's no hope for those moving per the glitz and glamor of this accursed 'money'.”
”Cousin,” he broke into a tight embrace, ”-I didn't mean to cause any harm.”
”Don't worry about it,” said he kissing Igna on the lips, ”-you are my kin, and we are brothers. Take care on the way home, my fellow comrade, I shall see thee next we meet, till then, good luck.”
”You too, cousin, you too,” he slowly sunk into the car where a flushed Anna held her breath. ”You didn't see anything.”
”I saw everything,” she broke the seal, ”-you kissed another!”
”What of it?” the face remained formal.
”Way to ruin the joke,” her head moved to rest upon the cold window, ”-it's cute how you guys kissed. Brotherly bonds are sure a thing to be amazed at.”
”Kissing another man isn't wrong,” said he, '-didn't feel weird or alarmed. Probably because of the involvement in the underworld, Julius hides it but I smell it, the stench of blood. The cold and resolute stare when someone he cares about is in danger.'
”I know,” said she, ”-was just trying to have fun. A long trip ahead of us, yeah?”
”Yeah, very long trip.” Choosing to travel at night instead of the day came per the request of Anna. She wanted to return at the same time the sun rose. Luckily, the time-tables of departure aligned perfectly. They expected to reach the Academy in 14-15 hours.
Wednesday washed to Thursday. Guild Leader Haru and Chef Leko were in the company of very interesting guests. The restaurant above the gymnasium rested in a cold grave-like silence. Multiple figures were rounded on a table, a single light showed the faces – screams and shouts snuck in from the activities below.
”Explain why you're here,” demanded Haru strongly.
”To check up on a future star,” said a lady bearing silvery grey hair tied in a neat bun. Glasses, eyelashes, and dark-colored lipstick accentuated her mature demeanor, otherwise, a description to nicely say she didn't look old.
”What's the Weekly Digest up to now,” interjected Leko, ”-isn't there perhaps better things to do than waste time here?”
”Oh no,” said she in a lowered tone, ”-I'm not on business from the Weekly Digest, I've come here to recommend what step Igna should take. Opposed to him, Kyle and the others have strived to make and get their name out to the world of fame and stardom. I heard Kyle landed an advertisement job for a local company. It's not much… tis but a babe learning to walk. I say this in full support of Igna, the moment Kyle starts to run, there will be no catching him and I'm serious. The market of Fine-dining and the shunned Dungeon-Style Cooking is too heavy a burden to break. Compare this to the discrimination of humans and demi-humans, despite the numerous laws and the current accord of the races, there are still pro-humans' movements out there as is pro-demi-human,” a pause to breathe and show confidence exposed the opposite side's expression. Leko stared into a wide-nothingness presumably thinking about the future. Haru's face boiled to a tomato, her frustration loosened by her unbuttoning shirt a little. The cold-faced trader gave herself out as if an open-book.
'Lady Haru is worried,' figured Leko, '-she'd never go overboard for a simple chef. Igna means more to her than I'd imagine.'
”Back to what I was saying,” their attention returned, ”-the people want to know what happened to him. The Arcanum is going wild, Weekly Digest's social media pages have been bombarded by questions about Igna. They know we have ties to the elusive chef.”