The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 1081

Chapter 1081: “Dear Boss” [Finale] [4]

“You are amazing,” Dania muffled against the shower’s glass pane. She fell on her knees, her legs slowly spread whilst she trembled. Her flushed visage was tell-tell of the passionate few minutes spent in the showers. ‘-Pressed her against the glass and... right,’ he looked at the showerhead with a satisfied smile. Water gushed, it split on the glabella and rolled over the eyebrows, down his nose, and down the chin.

“Can you stay up?”

“No,” she gasped, “-don’t think I’ll be able...”

“Should I get some help?”

“NO!”

“Fair,” he stepped out, “-anything else?”

“No, I’ll just get in the bath. Cruse, you’re something else, I swear. Didn’t imagine my first time to be so, how can I say, salacious.” He simply smiled, left the showers, reached for towels, cleaned himself then exited onto the upper floor. The piano played soothingly, ‘-she’s good,’ he stopped and stared from an inner terrace. Her long hair swayed; her pluck of the notes added to the outside rain.

.....

Thunder roared, “-the weather’s getting worse,” he said holding two mugs.

“What is that?”

“Warm tea,” he smiled, “-it cleanses the soul.”

Sunta looked him up and down, “-how was she?”

“What do you mean?”

Her flow crescendo, “-what do you think I mean?” she strongly grabbed the drink and narrowed, “-I’m not dumb. Even if I’m a little younger, I know much.”

“Are you angry?”

“Not really, why would I be?” she sipped, “-this is good,” her face glowed, “-Dania has her ways with men. She gets what she wants... between us, she’s the pure one. I-”

“I understand,” he echoed and sat beside her, “-you don’t have to tell me.”

“What do you know?” They exchanged stares meaningfully, “-tell me, what do you know about me?”

“Not about you,” he sipped, “-I’ve heard similar stories... might I guess?”

“...”

“I’ll take the silence as yes,” he inhaled, “-you were abused.” The mug hit the piano loudly, a break in her beautiful expression matched the outside thunder. She looked at him longingly. Before he’d realized, she’d grabbed his hands and looked over the piano, “-how do you clean a dirty mug,” she looked at theirs for convenience, “-without throwing its content?”

He paused at the question, she reservedly watched, “-I see,” he sighed, “-you can’t.”

A look of disappointment built, “...”

“Unless,” he cut the tension, “-the cup is filled with cleaner contents. The bad will pour and the clean will stay. Memory works in the same way, I doubt the mind handles trauma well. We all have our demons, don’t we.” She flipped his shoulder, “-Cruse,” and grabbed both hands and locked fingers, “-you get it,” she leaned, he gave no opposite signs, and they shared a passionate kiss. The light dimmed, and the holographic fireplace ambered. Like Dania, he shared a few moments with Sunta. Her hair was awry over the piano, in fact, she leaned on the piano with her head facing the windows, “-thank y-you,” she moaned, “-t-t-thank you.” The clock struck 20:45, “-my god,” he fell onto the piano seat and laughed, “-Sunta, you’re amazing.”

She looked up and smiled, “-so are you,” her expression was more of relief than satisfaction. The look, ‘-looks like a heavy burden has been lifted. Did she know all along?’

“I need to freshen up, it’ll be a moment,” she hurried for the other bathroom. A content Cruse fixed another drink and sat facing the storm, ‘-hopefully, our bond builds rapport. Made my alibi,’ he sipped, ‘-and I’m sure they’ll vouch for when they’re forced into work. Lovely ladies,’ he exhaled, ‘-are one of the many pleasures this world has to offer. The more I live,’ he caught his reflection, ‘-the more I feel like I belong. Am I changing from curse to human? Who knows...’ he gulped; ‘-only time will tell. In a way, time might not be favorable,’ he focused on a distant blimp, ‘-whatever happens, tonight will dictate the future.’

Dania and Sunta exited at the same time. They seemed prettier than before, radiating even. “Cruse,” and shared a commonality beyond friendliness, “-how do we look?”

“Ravishing,” he winked, “-time’s nigh.”

*Thud, thud,* the door boomed, “-we’re late...”

“No need to worry,” he casually headed for the door, the thuds amplified, “-open!” they shouted. *Click,* he unlocked and glared, “-would you shut it?”

“My,” a tall man returned Cruse’s attitude, “-who the hell are you?”

“I haven’t ordered room service. Considering my previous experience at this hotel, I guess the staff is pretty much apes when courtesy is of the essence.”

“Quit your whapping,” fired the tall, bald man, “-don’t have time for a rich kid’s lecture. Where are they?” he leaned to a sudden stop, “-don’t,” Cruse narrowed with a single finger pressed against the man, “-one more step and I won’t be so understanding.”

‘The more I press,’ the man pushed, ‘-the less I feel my strength. Who is this guy?’

Suited men cut and broke the conflict, “-that will be enough, from the both of you.”

Cruse lowered his fingers nonchalantly, “-and you must be?”

“Lord Demi from the Demtas Dynasty.”

“Cruse,” he returned, “-Demi from the Demtas Dynasty. I’ve heard your family name far in Alphia and Yian-Dho. Must be troubling, yes, considering the war’s outcome?”

“Not really,” Demi beamed, “-I had the foresight of moving well beyond the coming of war. The new continent, as they say, is a place of dreams. A good business opportunity if you’d like. Through lord Duquant, the Demtas is now most prominent,” he scanned Cruse, “-and you, my friend, are?”

“I’m not one to brag,” he returned, “-the name’s Cruse and I’m from foreign nobility.”

“An intriguing man,” added the smartly dressed noble. He fashioned himself in period clothing; tailcoat and waistcoat in navy blue, a white-linen shirt, white pantaloons, a neckcloth made of narrow strips of silk wrapped several times around the neck and tied in front, a hat, lastly, navy-colored boots to complete the man’s attire. In many ways, the outfit spoke of the old nobility, something Cruse was accustomed to, “-tell me, my good sir,” the tone changed for Demi unwillingly noticed Cruse’s noble crest hanging around his neck, “-do you perhaps know where these ladies are?” he pulled a tablet and swiped – a mismatch of technology and fashion, such as the running thought in Cruse’s mind.

“And who is asking?”

“I am,” Demi said cordially, “-we’re gentlemen, let us resolve the issue.”

“Dania and Sunta, yes?”

“My, so you do know them?”

“Yes,” Cruse opened and widened the door, “-they’re inside.”

“Very good,” he smiled, “-could I meet with them?”

“They’re getting ready for the soiree,” Cruse added rather softly, “-tell me, my dear Demi, the soiree, is it reserved?”

“Depends,” he inched closer and asked the guard, the bald tall man, to step away, “-everything has a price nowadays, Cruse.”

“What of the sanctity of nobility and all fuss about class and system?”

“My, for someone of foreign nobility, you sure don’t blink when speaking ill of the very same class that’s granted thee power, yes?”

“And for someone of your caliber, you sure do speak a lot.”

“My, Cruse, you’re one wonderous young man. It’s refreshing. As for the class system, it doesn’t matter. You reside in the presidential suite – there’s not much I can contest to your legitimacy. A good word and it’ll be simple.”

“Networking,” he smiled, “-may I count on you, lord Demi,” he grabbed the latter’s shoulder, “-as a fellow gentleman to another. Wouldn’t it be nice for us to be at the banquet simultaneously?”

“It would make the bland event, eventful. You should experience what the noble here get up to,” Dania and Sunta came into frame, “-there you are,” Demi exhaled, “-I have been searching the hotel. Please tell me you’re, okay?”

“We’re, sir, we are,” they lowered their heads.

“Excellent,” they stepped into the corridor, threw thankful stares at Cruse, and walked under the tall-bald man’s leadership. Demi, for one reason or another, kept his calm and waited for the corridor to clear, “-young man,” he echoed at Cruse, “-you and I, perhaps?”

“You play for the other team?”

“Pardon?”

“Do not play dumb with me,” he grabbed Demi’s silk neckcloth and pulled, the door locked. The soiree began, time went from 21:00 to 21:30.

Rain rattled the bedroom window. Cruse looked at the ceiling,” -Demi, I didn’t know you were a lady?”

“Well, my flat-chestedness and the loss of people during the war made me the head of the family. You know how this place is inherently misogynistic... I didn’t think you’d accept my advances.”

“Man or woman, we all have our needs to be satisfied.”

“This remains between us,” she fitted her outfit.

“Damsel to Demi, I like the change,” he leaned on his side and watched, “-you make an excellent gentleman, Demi. You are by all meaning of the word, a gentleman.”

“Good,” he tightened the neckcloth, “-I rather be a man than a woman. You going to get ready?”

“For what?”

“The soiree.”

“I haven’t paid.”

“You have,” he winked, “-and adequately I must add. Come on, ready yourself, I will wait for you downstairs. Meet me at the reception. Tonight’s a night you won’t forget,” Demi’s prominent aura faded. Cruse was left to watch the ceiling emptily, “-three times in more or less an hour. I need a break... so much for a gentleman, she was tight and rough. How the hell can... whatever,” he grabbed the nearest bottle and gulped, “-back to the plan,” the focus returned, ‘-time to end the Mayor.’

“You’re late,” the reception clock read, 21:54.

“Had trouble waking.”

Demi caught the suggestive comment, shook his head, and smiled, “-it’s the drinking, Cruse, it’s the drinking,” he looked at the receptionist, “-have Cruse be put on the guest list. The party should start at 22:00.”

“My lord, are you sure?”

“Did I stutter?”

“My apologies,” the receptionist shrieked, “-pardon my infraction, my lord.”

“Someone sure is prominent,” Cruse commented. Demi took the compliment and walked into a different section of the hotel. The hallway instantly enlarged, and they arrived at a massive open space, a waiting room for the elite, built with architectural marvels and artistic design in mind. The walls were made of marble, intricately carved pillars that arched into multiple domes in the ceiling lined with even greater works of art. Luxuriously dressed men waited. Many had an entourage of pretty ladies, the fatter held more, and the thinner, deemed a sign of poverty, were lucky to have one or two women. There were also women, and contrary to how men flaunted their wealth, the dames made their servants, handsome men, carry much of their hassle.

“Welcome to show-and-tell,” Demi sighed, “-soiree is but a name to cover the true purpose. Tis an orgy organized to celebrate Lord Duquant’s departure. He’s a well-known debaucher and has made a name for said sin. He said, and I quote, ‘-to fully understand sin, one must partake in its evil, for only when understanding of evil is reached, one might find the light.’

“A religious man?”

“To the extent of what lines his pockets,” they moved from the waiting hall into the reception hall, one tall and massive. An orchestra played, drinks were served and food was placed on tables set to the side. Various clicks were formed and placed according to one’s social standing. The closer to the orchestra, the better and more affluent.

.....

“Like the seating arrangement at the palace.”

“Spot on,” he smiled, “-Cruse, I said I’d bring you here, I never said anything about networking. You’re on your own, I’m sure a noble shouldn’t feel pressured?”

“Demi, you are a sly little one,” he smiled, “-I appreciate the help. Please do not worry after me, I have my ways of getting attention.”

“Don’t stand out, not in a bad way. It’ll reflect poorly on me.”

“Too bad,” he winked, “-for this give and take, my dear Demi.”

“You’re impossible.”

The music roared, ‘-I’m here,’ support beams provided a place of respace for those of lower class. Shadows gloomily enveloped the side of the hall, and many of the lower stations hid from the shame, ‘-where’s Duquant?’ he hailed a maid, picked up a drink, and smiled, “-please keep the drinks coming my way when you’re able.”

“Sorry?” she shyly replied, “-my lord, are you sure...”

“Don’t worry,” he sipped, “-I see talking to servants is taboo. I don’t care,” he winked, “-you’re human, just like me. Keep ’em coming, yes?”

“Will do,” she bowed.

A stack of bills dropped onto her platter, “-for your troubles.”