Page 51 of I Ran Away to Evil 2
And so it went until the entire garden was full of well-to-dos. Rufus arrived midway through, looking a little irritated if she read his slightly lowered tail and drooped left ear tip correctly. The man hid it well with his powerful demeanor, but she could tell he wasn’t enjoying himself.
She slipped into an instrumental version of “Traveler’s Anthem,” which she knew he loved. His eyes caught hers from across the garden, and he sent her a small smile. It warmed her all the way to her tummy, and she had to catch herself.
Finally, the guest of honor arrived. The head attendant’s voice rang loud and clear, drawing everyone’s attention, and I rounded off the chord, coming to a clean stop. “Presenting Duke Wyldon Holst of Servalt.”
There was a polite round of applause for the duke …
And then someone threw a bottle of bright red liquid with little black flecks at the man.
CHAPTER 27
And Head Scratches?
Rufus
A Few Minutes Earlier
“Are you planning on visiting the capital during your stay, Commander?” a pale human with short curly hair asked me.
The man, Lord Peter Ainsworth, wasveryexcited to meet someone from the Dark Enchanted Forest. He had been standing with me since shortly after I’d arrived.
“I will be, yes.” I was glad for the mild distraction from the otherwise well-mannered guests. Servalt had come about when the northern nobles had stood up against the elite classism of Sumbria, and as much as I’d teased Duke Wyldon the previous evening, they really were an admirable crowd.
And then there was Peter.
“I can show you around the town. A cultured beastman like yourself must have finer tastes …” Peter gave me a knowing smile that was not accurately knowingat all.
I resisted the urge to sigh, simply looking down on the man with a passive glance before sweeping the crowd. “Perhaps. I have a few kingdom-level quests to complete first.” Unless Bronwynn was set on added company, at which point I would do the one meeting with the Assassin’s Guild and then ignore the rest.
I didn’t openly stare at her, but knowing she was there made the disaster that was me standing at a birthday party with no social acquaintances to speak of bearable.
“Ah, a working man. I get it. When you’ve finished your business, then.” Peter nodded and took a glass of sparkling enchanted mistwine from a server. The beverage gave off beautiful swirls of red smoke and tasted like sweet strawberries.
I selected a dry pear cider with hints of citrus and enjoyed a slow sip.
“Presenting Duke Wyldon Holst of Servalt.” The voice carried over the crowd, and we all turned to face the duke as he entered from a private set of double doors that had been previously closed on the veranda. The half elf strode in with confidence, and he nodded a polite greeting to his guests from the top of the stairs.
The corner of my eye blinked with a new notification as unease settled in my gut and my entire body felt [Sense Threat] activate. My heart beat faster, the hair on my body bristled, and my head whipped around to Bronwynn, artfully finishing her note.
“[Imbue] [Haste].” That’s when someone, an elven young lady wearing a light pink dress, knocked Peter toward me. I caught the human and watched in horror as she threw a bottle of molten ash vane.
The bottle sailed through the air toward the duke while my Perception thirty allowed me to watch everything unfold in slow motion.
There were shouts as people activated their abilities. The vial hit the [Shield] spell, slowed, glowed, and then rebound forward. Duke Wyldon whipped up his arms and yelled, “[Force Wall]!”
The still glowing vial hit the gray shimmering [Force Wall] and slowed again—but again, it kept going. A look of shock and horror fixed on the duke’s face. A guard, who had activated her own version of [Haste], launched herself from her spot beside the griffin statue.
But she wouldn’t make it.
I shoved Peter back into the elf assassin, knocking them both to the ground, then I spent mana to pop my claws. I’d need them to handle the duke. We would have to remove any poisoned parts as quickly as possible if he was going to survive. Worst case, I could save an ear or foot and use my high-level potion to bring him back. If there was time.
Wyldon would lose his Duke title upon death, as was the norm with kingdoms outside the Dark Enchanted Forest, but he wouldsurvive. He was lucky a member of the Dark Horde was in attendance. He wouldn’t even be undead, since I got to it so quickly … assuming I got to it quickly.
And of course, I would absolutely hold it against Wyldon to further annoy him. If there was enough left of him to save, that was.
All of this flashed in my mind as a black cat leapt from a nearby chair and caught the vial with its mouth midair, landing proudly on its feet.
Excuse me, agrimalcatleapt to catch it. No one should ever mistake the two, or the grimalcat would seek vengeance for the slight. They were proud; they were majestic … And they carried a grudge forever.
