Chapter 52: Lying In Bed.
Vincent didn’t speak for a long moment.
The smile never left his face, yet the atmosphere inside the tent gradually grew heavier, as though the air itself had become difficult to breathe.
"I have never once ordered any of my followers to tail you, or any member of the Round Table. Not because I am unable to, but simply because it is beneath me..."
Vincent slowly stepped closer until only a short distance separated them, then bent forward until his face was level with Naomi’s.
"Naomi, what is going on between us isn’t a transaction. You’re going to do as I say, and maybe, if I feel like it... let’s see... perhaps when the weather gets warmer, I will help you find your sister’s killer... Are we clear?"
The white of Vincent’s eyes slowly began to disappear.
Darkness spread across them until not even a trace of white remained, leaving behind two endless pools of black that seemed capable of swallowing light itself.
Naomi instinctively took a step back before raising her palm.
"Don’t get cocky. I’m confident in my ability to turn you into a puddle of blood before you can draw your next breath."
The air inside the tent trembled almost imperceptibly.
Neither of them moved, neither of them blinked.
Then, just as suddenly as they had changed, Vincent’s eyes returned to normal. The pressure blanketing the tent vanished without warning, and a gentle smile once again settled across his impeccably composed face.
"I think we need to start seeing different people, Naomi. Why don’t you lay low for the next couple of weeks? I’ll go ask around, see if anybody has seen anything. Nobody can say no to my irresistible eyes."
Naomi cautiously lowered her hand before taking another step back. She quietly thanked the gods Vincent hadn’t actually attacked her. She knew better than most that this neatly dressed madman was almost impossible to predict, and powerful enough to make even Andrea think twice before provoking him.
"Thank you, but I intend to keep my end of the bargain. Name anyone, and I will help you kill them. If they’re too strong... then we kill them together."
Vincent rather liked the sound of that.
In truth, he had prepared several names long before Naomi arrived. Only one had remained in his thoughts.
His smile widened.
"Elias of the Round Table."
Naomi’s expression gradually hardened. Her thoughts visibly shifted as countless possibilities flashed through her mind, but before she could voice any of them, Vincent quickly raised one leg toward her.
"Don’t get cold feet now. Here... you can have my shoes."
Naomi ignored the obvious jab at her habit of walking barefoot and instead said,
"Elias is too strong. Even with the two of us, we might suffer too many injuries, and with the Eidolon army approaching..."
She fell silent, collecting her thoughts for the briefest of moments.
"We really shouldn’t take such a massive risk... Why do you even want him dead?"
"Tsk."
Vincent clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"That pestilent bastard is too dangerous. He has no flaws whatsoever. There’s no way anyone can be that good, so either he’s not human... or he’s a scary human. I like scary humans when they’re dead. That way, they can’t do us any harm."
Naomi slowly shook her head, unable to hide the helplessness on her face.
"Whatever. I’ll help you kill him after we’ve pushed back the Eidolon army."
... ...
"Is this where it hurts?"
Yuri’s gentle voice broke the quiet inside the tent. She held a warm piece of cloth in one hand while her back remained slightly arched over Damien’s bed.
Beside her rested a small wooden bucket filled with steaming water. Wisps of heat drifted lazily into the air before disappearing into the dim glow cast by the nearby torches.
Damien’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling as Yuri’s soft fingers carefully brushed across his bare chest, cleaning away the dried blood that clung stubbornly to his skin.
"Yes... right there," Damien answered.
It was a complete lie, everything hurt.
But pointing out another place would only mean those gentle hands would leave this one, and Damien found himself strangely unwilling to let that happen.
"I can’t believe she actually agreed to this..." Damien muttered with a faint grin. "Hehehe... I guess the silent ones really are big softies."
Yuri tilted her head, the damp cloth pausing for just a moment.
"Agreed to what?"
"Looking after me."
She stared at him for a long moment before quietly returning to her work.
"You almost died."
"Technically, I already am."
Yuri ignored Damien’s attempt at humour.
The warm cloth slowly traced another path across Damien’s shoulder, washing away streaks of dried black blood that had long since hardened against his skin.
"Can you tell me how Paige died?".
Yuri’s sudden question nearly made Damien fall over from the bed, he wondered why Yuri wanted to know something like that, if she was friends with Paige, then he would feel guilty for hacking open the back of her head.
"Uhmm, why do you- why do you want to know? Things were pretty dark and the blizzard kept us mostly apart".
Yuri shrugged.
"I knew her...".
"Shit, I murdered your friend, didn’t I?".
"She was a great sword wielder". Damien finally heard Yuri complete her sentence.
"Oh, so not friends then, that’s good".
Yuri sighed lightly.
"She was pretty strong, I find it hard to believe any number of Eidolons could overwhelm her".
"It took six of them, and they were already dead. So I’m not impressed".
Damien gave Yuri a false sense of sadness and defeat, then said.
"I only knew her for two days...".
"Then I murdered the bitch".
"... but I could tell she was a good person at heart...".
"Good person my ass, she was an accomplice to my attempted assassination".
"... She carried out her role diligently, she deserves better than to rot alone in a frozen wasteland".
"Which was why I left her close to the Eidolon camp, they should make quick work of her corpse".