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[The Distinguished Mr. Rose] Chapter 95: Lifeblood and Rubies Red
🕑 Added 2025-09-04 04:34:46 +0000 UTCIt was at the end of their second day in the Rivers’ Cairo that Mister Arabi made separate arrangements for the players and the Franks. Lucius didn’t tell his fellows of his ‘deal’ with the good man, and when asked about the reasoning for the split groups, he worked together with the guide to come up with a suitable excuse.
Sir Roland was cautious at first and concerned that their Arabian assailants would target the players whilst they were vulnerable, but Lucius convinced him in the end that everyone would be in safe hands—the gentleman was a Peer now, after all. After promising to seek his aid immediately should they be attacked, the man hesitantly parted toward another section of the city. Lady Angelica and Sir Astolfo left as well, each Peer given their own private dwelling.
Lucius and the others, meanwhile, were brought to an actual hotel this time. It had a much livelier mood than their previous villa, with crowds of Arabian businessmen, ambassadors from other countries, and influential figures involved in the city’s politics all coming and going through the building’s grand halls. At least now the players wouldn’t have to worry about their rooms exploding.
“Phew, looks like they’re giving up on all that funny business,” Mili said, comforted by the people passing by. “Doubt even those wackos would be crazy enough to attack us here.”
Marco nodded in agreement, although his expression was still rigid. “Better keep yer guard up, nonetheless. It ain’t hard to wack a fella even without the flashy stuff. Used to see it in my younger days: some mobsters used poison while others hid in the ceiling. When the poor guy went to sleep… blam! Right between the eyes.”
Harper shivered. “Geez, you’ve had a rough life huh, old timer? Just thinking about that stuff’s enough to make me paranoid.”
Miss Rhodes walked up to the firefighter’s side and tried to comfort her by rubbing her shoulders. “Ain’t that the truth. How about all us folk sleep in the same room? I reckon it’s better than passin’ out with one eye open. Could be a mighty type fit, but… I figure we’ll make due.”
Her suggestion was a reasonable one, but not without its flaws. Miss Enapay shook her head and offered up a proposition of her own. “That will make us easy targets. We can’t all be huddled in one room, but I do agree that we should stick together. How about going in pairs? There’s seven of us though so we’ll need a group of three…”
Mister Crowley coughed into his hand, opened his suit, and revealed a hidden cache of homemade bombs. “No need, it’s better for me to go alone. I have a skill that protects me from being torn to bits by my own blasts, but if a friend’s near then even I can’t do much to save them. You folks group up without me; I’ll just plant these babies in my room and bunker down.”
With that, their decision had been made. Lucius’s chosen partner was the good Mister Bernardi, and so the two gentlemen headed off to, hopefully, get a peaceful night’s rest. To the players’ surprise, everyone actually did.
The next morning was met with a lovely sunrise and a warm desert breeze. Marco had kept watch over their room’s potential vantage points late into the night, so for nothing to have happened despite his expectations was both anticlimactic and fortunate. The others spoke of similar stories. Mili and Harper—who both shared a room—even hid under their beds in the slight chance that an assassin came from above. Miss Enapay and Miss Rhodes weren’t as drastic compared to them due to the seamstress’s woven barrier.
Mister Crowley had no opportunities to set off his bombs. He looked rather disappointed.
With their nerves relatively eased, the players had breakfast together at the hotel restaurant, and then went about their separate businesses (while still in pairs, of course). There were still a few days left before the new leader of Arabia, the Emir, was to hold his inauguration ceremony, so Mister Ibn-al-Arabi gave them all permission to explore the city and enjoy as they so wished. Frankish currency was accepted here; they would have no issue purchasing local craft that couldn’t be found back at the capital.
Before they could leave, however, Sir Astolfo emerged from the crowd and waved out to them.
“Looks like you’re all safe!” he said with a relieved smile. “No one attacked you or anything? Nothing suspicious?”
Lucius tilted his head, curious. “Indeed not, my friend. We had a very pleasant evening.”
“Huh, that’s good. Angelica and I slept fine as well. Roland on the other hand…”
“I assume another late night assassination attempt?”
Astolfo nodded grimly. “About a hundred masked Saracen warriors broke down his door and went straight for his neck. Luckily, he’s safe and managed to subdue all of them, but when he tried to hand them off to the authorities they merely brushed him off—said they’ll ‘investigate’ or whatever that means. I have a feeling nothing much will come of it.”
Lucius had expected as much, but he was surprised that the other two Peers were left untouched. It wasn’t that he wanted them to be attacked; however, the Saracens’ grudge seemed too hateful to prevent considering Mister Arabi’s words. He supposed their target was someone else—they’d need to concentrate all their effort if they wished to slay someone so mighty as the Peers’ leader.
“It is great indeed that Sir Roland be in fair health,” Lucius said. “But what do you suppose we should do now? I suspect the Saracens’ advances will only grow in severity the longer we stay. Our original goal is to slay the Great Evil—must we truly need to stay here?”
Astolfo sighed and paced around, uncertain. “I thought the same, but Roland insisted that we have to in order to keep a good relationship with Arabia. Damnit… it’s obvious Ganelon is responsible for this. What I don’t understand is why Roland is being so stubborn. It’s not like leaving here is going to start a war.”
Perhaps not, but it would give reasonable justification for the nation to demand recompense from Francia. Despite the empire’s great size, the demons had left them fatigued and short on resources for ten long years now. The neighboring countries delivered supplies under the pretext of being vassal states; however, would such nations truly be happy with such an arrangement?
Would they, with their razed lands and people scarred from the former emperor’s previous conquest, willingly come to their mortal enemy’s aid?
Arabia needed a cause—something Francia could not fault them for even if they were to retract their support. If Roland left, they would be given that cause. If he stayed, then they could attempt to kill him all they wished.
The head Peer was well and truly trapped. For the sake of his own nation, he could only endure until this journey’s end.
“I see. Well, I am certain Sir Roland has his reasons,” Lucius said, pretending to be oblivious. “Why don’t we trust in him? For now, let us do what we can and gather information from the populace. It is unlikely they will tell much, but even the smallest of morsels can be to our benefit.”
Astolfo appeared a bit frustrated knowing there was little he could do, but nonetheless he persevered and left to find what information he could.
While he did so, Lucius and Marco decided to spend their free time going on a food tour. There were such fascinating dishes here—it would be a shame to leave before having had their fill. Thus the two fine fellows lazily spent the afternoon sipping on cocktails and basking under the desert suns.
A couple of hours into their culinary adventure, Lucius spotted a familiar figure wading through the busy streets. They covered themselves in a long robe and did their best to appear inconspicuous. However, there was no hiding from the gentleman’s eyes. That figure was Lady Angelica herself—and without her armor, no less. Tufts of her golden hair occasionally peaked out of her hood, and her face was covered in a slight veil.
“Hoho, I do believe I’ve spotted a most peculiar sight, Mister Bernardi,” Lucius said to him while gesturing to the hooded Angelica. “Should we give chase?”
The old mobster rubbed his chin for a moment, before nodding. “I ain’t normally the type to go poking into another’s business, but something’s not right. You don’t cover yourself in that many layers for no reason.”
The two shared a knowing glance before trailing after the lady from a far distance. Marco wasn’t exactly the sneaky type, but with some assistance from Lucius, he managed just enough to avoid being caught.
Eventually, Angelica entered a quiet area near the city’s border before stopping at a quaint building with a blacksmith’s sign hanging from the top.
“Oh, she just wanted her weapon spruced up?” Marco mumbled. “Maybe we should go and apologize to her—”
“Not yet, Mister Bernardi. Her behavior isn’t one of a simple customer.”
Angelica pulled back her hood and fully exposed her face. In the past few weeks Lucius had come to know her, she gave off the air of a stern, devout, and deadly paladin. Yet the lady before him now had abandoned that once-so rigid demeanor. It was odd, very odd. She nervously fidgeted with her hair and brushed at her clothes, doing her best to appear presentable, and even spritzed a bit of perfume over her face.
Angelica took in a deep breath, before knocking on the shop’s door.
“Hm? Oh, my apologies, but we’re currently closed at the moment—”
The door opened, and out stepped a Saracen man with oil-stained overalls, a bright expression, and an innocent smile. He was very different compared to the Franks. Instead of a muscular build and a rowdy personality, the man had a gentler appearance: calm and serene, the perfect person to have a quiet tea party with. His height was shorter, his frame slender, yet beneath his work attire was no doubt a body honed from years of smithing. He had to have been in his early forties, yet the light in his eyes radiated a youth half his age.
That man stood frozen before Angelica for a moment, before running forward and embracing her in a tender hug.
“Welcome back, Angie,” he said with a soft laugh. “It’s been… far too long.”
Tears welled up in Angelica’s eyes, and she returned his hug with a fondness just as equal. “Forgive me for my late coming, Medoro.”
The two stared at the other, grinned, and then shared a loving kiss.
Both Marco and Lucius simultaneously covered their mouths and gasped.
“Oh, uh, well, I didn’t expect that,” Marco mumbled. “Should we really be watchin’ this? I don’t want to be rude, and this seems like a private moment.”
Lucius wasn’t one to intrude on such fair love as well, but this revelation wasn’t one they could so easily ignore.
“We must, Mister Bernardi. If Lady Angelica has such associations with the Saracen people, then we cannot be certain whether or not she is truly our ally.”
Angelica and the man called Medoro entered the smithy. Lucius and Marco followed soon after, choosing to eavesdrop on their conversation by hiding in a nearby corner.
“How many years has it been…?” Medoro said, leading Angelica to a guest room. He took off his work garments and switched to more casual wear, before setting to work and brewing her a cup of the local Arabian tea. It was similar to the blends of the middle east back on Earth, with subtle notes of peppermint and black anise. Lucius had drunk much of the beverage during his foody escapades.
“Five,” Angelica solemnly said. “After his late Holiness, Pepin the Brutal Architect of the World’s Inevitable End, died at the fields of Sleeping Hollow, the officials of the court ordered me to keep perpetual watch over the Great Evils. I could not leave my station even if I desired so.”
“Yet you’re here now, and for that I must thank whatever divines can still yet hear us.”
“Hehe, if you truly wish to thank someone, then it would have to be Sir Lucius and his otherworldly fellows. Had they not subjugated the demons, I would still be out there, waiting for the chance to visit Arabia again.”
It was evident at first glance just how deeply the two cared for the other. There was a yearning in them, a pure bond not so dissimilar to a newly-committed couple, yet that affection has remained strong even after all these years.
Despite such warmth, however, a subtle anxiety festered in their hearts. It didn’t take much to fathom why. They were polar opposites. A Saracen man and a Frankish woman: a humble blacksmith by trade and a paladin serving amongst the empire’s highest elite. They were bound by circumstances far beyond them, and yet they chose to nurture this relationship nonetheless. Such a shame it had to be done in secret. If word were to get out of their courtship, both Angelica and Medoro would not be able to escape their respective peoples’ judgement.
“It pains me how cruel Sir Ganelon can be,” Medoro said, sitting by Angelica’s side and leaning his head on her shoulder. “To give such a lonely duty unto you… I cannot imagine how tiring it must have been.”
Angelica closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “This world is always cruel, Medoro. Sometimes I cannot help but cower before it all, how tragedy after tragedy always seems to predate the next. First it was Pepin, then the Demon King, and now even Ganelon who I once thought to understand—there is no end to it, and yet I try to remain strong nonetheless. But someday I will inevitably crumble under the weight of it all.”
Medoro touched Angelica’s hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. “I thought the same when the Franks first invaded. I remember the fear, the screams and the roaring flame, and during that time I couldn’t fathom how the future could possibly be worth living for. What use was there in a ruined wasteland of blood and sand?”
Angelica trembled at the mention of her nation’s past atrocities, but Medoro didn’t bring it up to shame her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and waited until the two were perfectly in sync.
“But it was also during the war that I met you, and my heart once ridden with despair began to beat once more. You were the only one amidst the chaos to try and protect my people, and back then I couldn’t understand why. The Franks were the enemy. They took everything from me. Yet, it was because of the bravery of a lone Frankish woman that many Saracens could flee to safety. I learned then that even those I thought irredeemable were also people as well: confused, hurt, and terrified of what would happen to their loved ones. I’d be lying if I said a part of me still hasn’t forgiven the Franks for what they did, but we can never heal so long that our grudges keep us chained. You showed me that there were good people out there willing to advocate for peace.”
“It wasn’t enough,” Angelica muttered in response. “I didn’t have the courage to stand against the former emperor, and when my mind began to break down from the constant massacre, I hid in secret and pretended to be a hero. That was the only way I could stay sane.”
To that, the man let out a small laugh. “Good deeds care not for the intention behind them—only that they are good. By saving those people, you gave them a future. One life can lead to the protection of many; a child can grow, and learn, and discover their calling because of one decision you thought trivial. And even I… I wouldn’t be here had you not pulled me out of the rubble that day, so please don’t be too hard on yourself. You didn’t start the war, Angie. It’s not your fault.”
Angelica kept her silence for quite some time. Medoro didn’t push any further than she wished and merely stayed by her side, patiently waiting until his beloved was ready.
“I do not know what my reason is for living,” she eventually whispered to him. “I became a Peer because I was proud of our empire and its prosperity. I wanted to give back to the Francia I thought to be beautiful, only to discover how truly filthy it was from the inside.”
“But not all of Francia is like that, right?”
Angelica lowered her head. “That is what makes it so difficult to endure. There are good people in the castle, but I cannot be truly honest with them. I have to maintain my image as a Peer, I have to repay their trust in me by remaining strong, and I cannot do so if I reveal my weakness. I’ve already exposed myself once before, and that led to Roland pursuing a courtship against my wishes. None of the Franks can ever know of my heart. The only one I feel safe confiding these feelings to is you, Medoro. You are my oasis in the desert.”
Angelica suddenly stood up and lightly grabbed Medoro’s side. “Why don’t you come with me to Francia? The people there are much less prejudiced than before. Just a few weeks ago, a cherished friend of mine married a Moorish man. We can live together without all this secrecy.”
She tried to sound cheerful and pleaded with Medoro to consider her offer, but deep in her heart she knew it not to be possible. Her eyes held back tears where her tone was encouraging, and all the while the Saracen man could only apologize with a bittersweet kiss.
“This is my home,” he said simply. “Both the blazing afternoons where my skin feels hot with life and mild evening gusts come to give us rest from a hardworking day… I cherish it. I cherish the brief conversations I have with my neighbors and customers, with my community, and I treasure the days where I can wander the market streets and look at the sun-worn buildings I’ve grown up around all my life. The lake near the Temple Mount, the food, the rich patterned carpets—everything in Arabia contains the essence of my culture, and to leave would mean giving up a part of myself as well.”
Angelica’s lips quivered, and she opened her mouth to reply. But nothing came out. She knew that to take Medoro away would mean him becoming no longer the person she came to know and love.
“... And I can never imagine leaving Francia as well,” she said with a mournful laugh. “For all its faults, I remember dashing across the fields as a little girl. I would wave my arms around and laugh as the golden wheat tickled against my skin. When it became hot and I needed to cool down, I would jump into the brook and let the water splash across my face and soak my hair. Such small, childish little things, yet I hold them close to my heart. It is my home, just as Arabia is yours.”
Medoro smiled knowingly and cupped Angelica’s cheeks with his hands, much to her embarrassment. “No matter how long it has to take, I’ll wait for you to visit again. It doesn’t matter if it’s a month or even until I’m well into my ailing years. I will embrace you the same as I always have, and that will never change.”
The two smiled and laid silently within each other’s grasp for a long time. Lucius had a feeling there wouldn’t be much more to glean from them, so he tapped Mister Bernardi’s shoulder and gestured for the two gents to take their leave.
Perhaps there was once a time when Lady Angelica would have made for a lovely blossom. Her insecurity and her hesitation… such deep emotions that would have given Lucius much opportunity to prune, but that ime was beyond her now. The truth in her heart had already been eased out by her other half; and though their relationship would inevitably suffer great adversity, the two of them were content.
Here, in this moment, there was nothing else they could want for.
