Chapter 54. Cry

"Your leg is bruised, but no vessels were ruptured." Daphnne checked the black-haired nobleman's knee, holding the back of his ankle gently while straightening out the leg. The heroine couldn't help but sweat, as she felt an intense glare burn through her back...

"...yes, Az?" She laughed nervously.

Azalea frowned, his eyebrows furrowed while deep in thought.

Jacques stepped forwards. The mage's light blue hair was swept behind his lean back in a swift movement, while he also bent down before Lucilline's injured leg. "I could help heal-"

A quiet monotonous groan grated behind him.

Azalea made a low creaking sound, his baritone throat rumbling in danger. His amethyst purple eyes glowed, like the pair of an angry wolf.

Jacques, "..." He was speechless.

"It's fine, Jacques." Lucilline responded softly, tearing the mage's attention away from the male lead. He tucked a strand of black hair behind a pearly ear, "I can't rely on your magic all the time. If you use your spells constantly on me, you will lose energy. I can't have you waste your energy on me."

He wore a small smile, which seemed to calm the atmosphere in an instant.

Jacques was mesmerized, then blinked, his long eyelashes quivering like feathers riding the wind.

"Well," He shyly looked away, his light pink eyes fluttering with shame. It's not wasteful if my magic is used for you.

Azalea's face was as dark as a pot. He could already imagine all the lovey-dovey thoughts inside the mage's eyes. It pained him.

*****

They bid farewell after reuniting and chatting.

Azalea helped with the herbal shop, while Daphnne continued running her business. The heroine noticed that the white-haired knight looked longingly at Lucilline's back figure, like a puppy watching their owner walking away. Then the door closed shut, and Azalea collapsed behind the front counter.

Daphnne: ??? Is it really that bad? Won't you meet Lucilline again someday?

Outside, Lucilline, Augustine, Willow, Jacques, Hugo, and Farrah had gone to walk back home.

Jacques and Hugo had left to their separate ways, deciding to return back home and rest. The long-haired mage held his little brother's small hand, a copper bell ringing in the air.

"Why don't we treat ourselves to some dinner at a restaurant?" Willow pointed out.

Lucilline was puzzled, a strand dangling over his forehead. Whenever he became confused, his locks of hair seemed to act on its own, always falling in between his two eyes. Augustine recognized this strand of hair as an ahoge—which is a piece of hair that always acts according to its host's emotions (sourced by several mangas he'd read before).

"Why not?" Augustine coughed, his low voice attracting both the two companions.

Willow suddenly perked up. "Oh yeah, Young Master hasn't even tried his first sip of alcohol yet!" Her eyes shone with excitement. "Aren't you curious about how beer tastes?"

Lucilline's eyebrows furrowed.

"Don't we have antique wine at home though—"

"That's different!" Willow beamed. "Beer, Young Master! Beer!"

Augustine eyed the maidservant with uncertain eyes, those irises of silver grey shining in disbelief. He didn't think that Willow was the type of person to have such a crush on alcohol. After all, Willow was always an endearing and responsible person.

"???" Lucilline was still puzzled. "What is so good about beer?"

"It is the most heavenly drink." Willow described in great detail. "Instead of having a great aroma like wine, beer hits you in the gut!"

Lucilline frowned. "...but I don't want to be hit in the gut?"

"No, Young Master! You don't understand!" Willow tugged on his sleeves. She begun to lead the black-haired nobleman towards a side of the streets.

Augustine had to chase after them.

Meanwhile, Farrah tilted her head. What is beer and wine? Is it a type of weapon?

*****

The bar was crowded in common people, booming in loud vices that shook the floorboards up and down. Hardly any space could be found, the tables completely decked out in common folk pouring beer and downing the entire cup. The strong scent of alcohol dominated the building. Everyone reeked of booze.

Nobody could hear their own voice, drowned in the liquor.

"A private room, please." Willow raised a hand to the front waiter.

The waiter nodded, pausing his action in drying a cup and leading them to an inner and closed room.

In the room, the table was cleaned and polished well to the point of shining in brilliance. A few cups were placed on the table, transparent and clear.

"We'll have three cups of beer," Willow ordered a cup for each person.

They sat around the table, seated neatly and orderly. The waiter left after taken their order.

Farrah curiously inspected the glass cup, wiping it with a finger. Certainly, the cup was not any kind of ancient antique. However, it did not make it any less useful. Her fake brown eye thinned, as she began brewing ideas in her mind. How good of a weapon will this glass cup make?

"The drinks will be on me!" Willow announced.

Having stolen multiple glances at the adults who've drunk beer back home, Willow always wondered how the drink would taste like. But those adults were gone—slaughtered by those who kidnapped her. Willow sighed and shook her head. Forget it.

The room had great insulation, able to block the sound from outside.

"Oh... now that I think about it," Lucilline perked up. "Have you ever drank beer before, Willow?"

"No, why?" The maidservant responded honestly.

She was so honest, Lucilline almost shrank back in fear.

"...if you haven't drunken beer before, then why did you call it a heavenly drink?" Lucilline didn't know how to feel about these mixed emotions.

Willow just shrugged, still excited about the drinks.

When the waiter returned with the bottles of beer, Willow thanked him. The waiter left, shutting the door behind, then... three pairs of curious eyes landed on the main prize.

"...how do you open them..." Willow hummed.

"Knock it open." Farrah deadpanned. Her fake brown eyes lost its original glowing crimson red colour, but it contained a strong threat underneath.

"...ah, wait." Augustine sighed.

He stepped forwards, gently holding onto the beer bottle's cap, then twisted it open. A strange fizzle rushed past the room—

"Who's there." Farrah became cautious, grabbing onto a glass cup as a weapon.

"...that's the sound of beer." Willow gasped.

They all quickly poured a bottle of beer inside their own cup of glass. Lucilline's pair of golden eyes reflected in the clear material, the gold thinning from examination. He could see every single bubble float, with foam sprouting from the top.

"...hah! It tastes so good!" Willow immediately began heaping the drink in her mouth.

Lucilline couldn't help but find his spirit withering. Is it really alright to be so bold?

Meanwhile, Augustine sipped a small amount of beer. Is drinking beer really something to be so happy about? It's just alcohol, isn't it?

Farrah sniffed the fizzy drink, her brows furrowed.

"Just drink it. Don't worry about anything poisonous in it." Willow told her, but the Demon Princess still took caution. She stuck a finger in the cup, awkwardly caressing the glass, tapping it lightly, measuring the circumference, then steadied up to drink it.

Augustine frowned. Is there really necessary to be so cautious?

His sharp silver grey eyes flashed over to look at the black-haired nobleman.

Lucilline poured himself a cup, slowly placing it before his lips, then gradually drank the fizz. Having been used to tasting nothing—the beer contrasted the usual drinks he drank. It was heavy, yet bubbling in his mouth. The fizz buzzed in his mouth, sweet yet bitter. His brows seemed to subconsciously furrow at the bold taste, which also burned his throat.

"...how is it?" Augustine sipped his own cup, his handsome face indifferent to the bitter taste.

Lucilline's eyes subconsciously watered. The beer sloshed his head, as if a dam had burst open, releasing all the waters to flood his brain.

"...it's fine." He continued drinking.

Contrary to the usual tasteless food, the beer actually tasted of something. Perhaps he just wanted to feel something—anything. Lucilline couldn't stop his hand from pouring more and more.

Farrah noticed his actions, then felt it was safe. She too began to drink.

As time passed, Willow grew drunk. Her face beamed in scarring red, shining brightly like the sun. Giggles hiccuped out from her throat.

Augustine, "..." Oh dear.

The maidservant kept hiccuping, slamming her fist continuously on the table. Small cracks began to form. "...stop hammering the table, Willow." Augustine deadpanned, but his small warning did not seem to do anything to help.

Instead, more cracks piled up on the surface.

One could feel the table sinking within... slowly about to break.

"...Willow..." a cold voice rendered the air to freeze.

The maidservant froze, her body feeling chills creep up her pale skin. She set her cup of beer aside, then felt a monstrous glare burn at her face.

Lucilline did not show any traces of being drunk, but his words were slurred and his pearly ears shone cherry red. His golden eyes thinned, layered in soft mist, and also reddened from blur. "...Do not destroy public property."

Willow hiccuped, "Yes, Young Master."

Augustine sipped from his beer. Farrah did so too.

Time passed, while the three drank readily. When they were finally done, the three paid for the drinks (extra tips for the broken table), then left the bar.

Outside, the sun had long set, and the moon rose above. It was dark—only the side lamps lit with candles had illuminated the night.

"...are you drunk, Young Master?" Augustine looked at the black-haired nobleman, who was walking slower than before.

Lucilline did not notice it. Instead, he shook his head, "I'm fine." How could a few measly cups of beer make me drunk?

The butler could only sigh.

He walked closer beside the black-haired nobleman, making sure to guard him safely. Meanwhile, Willow was picked up by Farrah, who ruthlessly dragged her across the ground by her collar.

"...But... Young Master," Augustine lowered his gaze. "...you're crying."

Small lines of tears slid down Lucilline's delicate cheeks, a pool rippling across his pair of golden eyes, which reddened uncontrollably. The young nobleman ruffled his hair, messing up his locks of black strands. He messily wiped his face, not using a handkerchief. Small traces of makeup had been smudged onto his face instead.

The scars on his hand had long begun to fade away. They were merely a colour of light pink, blurring alongside to the colour of his fair skin.

"Don't ridicule yourself," Lucilline huffed. "Nobody here is crying."

Meanwhile, behind the two young men, Farrah watched this with a pair of concentrated and thinned brown eyes. She frowned and pursed her lips.

Suddenly, she stopped.

Willow, who was dragged across the ground, had also come to realize that they'd fallen behind.

"Does this happen all the time?" Farrah asked, her voice void of emotion.

"...well, yes." Willow responded groggily. She could hardly keep her eyes open, her red and puffy face resembling a rose.

Farrah hummed to herself.

She watched Augustine pull out his own handkerchief, wiping away the tears which stained his Young Master's face. The atmosphere around those two seemed to be impenetrable—nobody could possibly get in between them.

Farrah seemed to understand something, an unknown thought clicking in her head. "I see."

"...huh?" Willow groaned, "What do you see?"

The Demon Princess did not answer her. Instead, she continued to drag Willow across the ground, chasing to catch up to the black-haired nobleman and his butler.

Even when crying, Lucilline Rubius reminded her of a porcelain doll—exquisite and pristine. His reddened eyes did not appear puffy nor bulging. Rather, they were thin and delicate, as if sewn by the best craftsmanship in the kingdom.

All of a sudden, Farrah froze on the spot.

She felt an unknown chill grab her heart, permeating into her bones. As a Royal Demon, she rarely felt the change of temperatures, but she could not ignore the cold.

Images began flashing before her eyes—

"Why do you drink?" Her voice seemed to be asking someone a question.

Before her was a young man, his eyes traced over in black circles and exhaustion drooping them downwards. His skin was pale, even in comparison to the Demon Princess' own. His long black hair was tangled up in a bun, with messy knots intertwining the strands.

"All humans drink when they come of age, do they not?" The young man responded, his words slurred in a poetic yet melancholic way.

Farrah sighed. "I can't have you drinking on the job though." Her indifferent expression grew its first crack. "Lucilline Rubius."

"Hah!" Farrah gasped, her mind ringing hazardously. Her knees weak and shaking, she clutched her head painfully. Those images lingered in her mind, clouding her judgement in a storm of fury.

"...you good?" Willow drunkenly asked.

Farrah froze. What was that...

Though speechless from the sudden vision, Farrah did not look back. She continued dragging the fallen maidservant forwards, "I'm good." Her voice was still cold and indifferent. Nobody could tell the change that was tearing her into shreds.

*****

Ever since the arrival of the two elder Rubius siblings (three years ago), the traps at the front of the mountain had been rebuilt.

Though with the help of his photographic memory, Augustine helped them traverse across.

Farrah carried Willow on her back, while eyeing the nearby traps. She secretly memorized their positions, in case of future emergencies.

"...Lucy?" A familiar voice sounded in the distance.

Before at the entrance of the front gate, two slender and lean figures stood worriedly. Scarletta and Zephyratt were star-struck.

"We're back." Lucilline nodded, but that did not stop his eyes from watering.

In an instant, he was embraced in a tight hug.

"I MISSED YOU!!!" Scarletta sobbed, her makeup running down her eyes like spider legs. Zephyratt fought over for his younger brother, "Shut up! Clearly, I missed Lucy more!"

"You clearly do not!" Scarletta bemoaned.

Stuck in between them, Lucilline could only continue to cry.