A Barbaric Proposal Chapter 72

※Exile (1)※

The two Kleinfelters were bound at the wrists with rough hemp rope. They were treated with no more dignity than common thieves. The cord connected the uncle and nephew, the slack held firmly in the calloused hand of a Tiwakan warrior.

Lyndon had spent the morning shrieking that such treatment was an impossibility, an insult to his status, but a few sharp kicks to his shins from the guards had finally bought his silence.

Liene watched the entire spectacle unfold.

She hadn't intended to linger, but it was impossible to look away. She stood at the gates to see Black off as he prepared to escort the high-value prisoners to the Grand Council Assembly.

[Liene] "Please, be careful."

Liene looked up at Black as he mounted his horse, her voice laced with genuine concern.

Black offered a brief, sharp smile and gave a curt nod.

[Black] "I know the stakes."

[Liene] "The loyalty to House Kleinfelter runs deep in this city. There may be those desperate enough to try a rescue."

[Black] "I'm counting on it."

His answer was so effortless that it was almost dismissive.

She reached out, giving his knee a pointed tap to catch his attention, her eyebrows arching in a silent reprimand.

[Liene] "I’m being serious, Lord Tiwakan."

[Black] "And I haven't said I don't believe you. I’ve made the necessary preparations. It will be fine."

[Liene] "Still. You must be cautious. Don't you dare come back to me with a single scratch."

[Black] "Ha..."

He let out a sudden, heavy sigh.

For a moment, she feared she had overstepped with her nagging. But, as was becoming a pattern, she had misread him entirely.

[Black] "Don't move."

[Liene] "What?"

[Black] "It’s dangerous from up here."

Leaning dangerously far from his saddle, Black reached down and captured her lips with his.

Even with dozens of eyes—both noble and mercenary—fixed upon them, the moment felt achingly private and sweet.

She rose on her tiptoes, deepening the kiss, prolonging the contact despite the awkward angle.

[Black] "If I stay any longer, I’m never going to leave."

He murmured against her mouth as he finally, reluctantly, pulled away.

[Liene] "Wait a moment."

Before he could straighten, she reached up again, her thumb gently brushing a trace of moisture from the corner of his lip.

[Liene] "We have a deal. No injuries."

[Black] "As you wish, Princess."

The blue in his irises seemed to darken, a molten heat swirling within them.

Her body recognized that look before her mind did; her heart gave a sharp, electric thrum, and she felt a sudden, mad urge to pull him back down for another.

Get a hold of yourself. You're losing your mind.

Her face was heating up.

[Liene] "Safe travels."

[Black] "I’ll make this quick."

He waited for her to step back a safe distance before he spurred his horse forward.

Liene remained at the gate, watching him until he reached the outer threshold.

As the procession moved, Laffit—who had been lagging—stumbled past her.

[Laffit] "Liene."

[Liene] "..."

She turned her gaze away. She had no intention of granting him even a sliver of her attention.

[Laffit] "If you’re doing this—if you’re putting on this little show of affection just to spite me—save your breath. I won't believe it. You are, and always will be, my beloved."

[Liene] "Ha."

A cold, dry laugh escaped her. This, she could not let slide.

[Liene] "Laffit Kleinfelter. Listen to me carefully. You are a sick man. I find I cannot even muster the energy to pity you because your delusions have become a bore. Do yourself a favor: wake up and start worrying about how you plan to survive the afternoon."

[Laffit] "Liene!"

[Liene] "You will not address me by my name again. I am your Sovereign. You are a prisoner of the state, charged with high treason. Guards, remove this man from my sight."

The final order was directed at the Tiwakan, who was holding the rope.

[Tiwakan] "With pleasure, Your Highness."

The mercenary yanked the rope without a hint of mercy, nearly jerking Laffit off his feet.

[Laffit] "Gah! Liene!"

[Liene] "And since his tongue seems to be his greatest enemy, feel free to silence him if he utters my name again."

[Tiwakan] "Understood, Your Highness."

Crack!

Before she had even finished speaking, another mercenary’s boot connected solidly with Laffit’s shin.

[Laffit] "Agggh!"

As he stumbled, the rope went taut again, dragging him forward.

[Liene] "I’m sure I don't need to tell you this, but keep your guard up for your Commander’s sake. Come back safe."

[Tiwakan] "Thank you, Your Highness."

The mercenaries offered a respectful bow before dragging the limping Laffit away into the dust of the road.

[Liene] "Was I too harsh?"

She whispered to the empty air.

She watched Laffit’s retreating figure—he looked like a broken paper doll, swaying and pathetic.

[Liene] "No. I’ve tried being gentle, and it clearly didn't work. He’s still singing the same tired song."

She shook her head, banishing the thought.

There was no room left in her heart for concern. Laffit was a man incapable of accepting his first true rejection, clutching at an obsession he called love.

[Liene] "I hope he learns to grow up. If he doesn't, life is going to be very short for him."

Her mind was strangely peaceful.

She turned and headed back into the castle. There was work to be done. If the Grand Council Assembly concluded successfully today, the wedding would be next.

She also had to prepare the investiture ceremony, where Black and his men would be formally named as nobles and knights of Nauk. The list of tasks was miles long.

[Liene] "I have enough gold left from the jewels to refurnish the master suite. I should have asked him what colors he prefers."

Custom dictated that the Queen refurnish the royal chambers for her new consort.

With her mind buzzing with logistics and decor, she practically flew up the stairs.

---

[Noble] "How dare you... the sanctity of the Grand Council...!"

Three of the five remaining Great Families were trembling with barely contained rage. The other two were silent.

Rosadel had a broken left hand and knew exactly what his right hand was for: signing the documents Black put in front of him. He wasn't about to waste effort on a useless fist.

[Rosadel] "Let's not make a scene. Sit down."

Rosadel waved his good hand, trying to settle the others. But unfortunately, the rest of them had never looked Tiwakan Commander in the eye.

[Burrey] "The right to attend this Council is a blessing ordained by the Gods of Nauk and the Treaty of Risebury! No outsider shall set foot in this hall! Leave at once!"

The shout came from Lord Burrey. He was the most emboldened of the lot today, having stationed the largest contingent of private guards just outside the doors.

[Black] "Then what do you propose I do with these two?"

Black didn't even raise his voice. He jerked his chin toward the two bound Kleinfelters.

[Black] "Someone has to keep an eye on the trash."

[Burrey] "Insolent...! How dare a mere mercenary talk back to an Elder of Nauk!"

As Burrey spewed his vitriol, Rosadel sighed.

Ellaroyden, leaning heavily on his crutch, shifted his weight nervously, his eyes darting toward the door.

[Black] "Insolent? Sure."

He reached out and casually shoved Burrey aside. It was a light movement, but it carried the weight of a mountain.

[Black] "Move. We’re moving the prisoners."

[Burrey] "You dare lay a hand on me!"

Burrey turned toward the door and clapped his hands sharply, signaling his men.

[Burrey] "What are you waiting for? Punish these dogs!"

The other three families weren't entirely stupid. They had coordinated with House Kleinfelter. Though the head of that house was currently in chains, the cousins and the head butler had agreed to send reinforcements if a commotion broke out. They had eyes everywhere.

There were only eight mercenaries in the great hall. No matter how legendary the Tiwakan were, thirty of Burrey’s men and fifty from House Kleinfelter were waiting outside. Ten-to-one odds usually favored the larger number.

At least, that’s what they believed.

[Black] "How did you know?"

He murmured the question as if talking to himself.

[Burrey] "What? Know what?"

[Black] "That I’m actually in a good mood today. Did you tell him?"

The last part was directed at Rosadel. The man, startled by being singled out, began waving both hands frantically, forgetting his broken wrist for a second.

[Rosadel] "I—I said nothing! My lips are sealed, I swear it!"

[Black] "Then it was you?"

He looked at Ellaroyden. The man shook his head so hard it looked ready to snap off.

[Ellaroyden] "Not a word! You told me to play dead, and I’ve been a corpse since we last spoke!"

[Black] "Strange."

He tilted his head, a look of mock confusion on his face.

[Black] "Usually, men don't scream in my face like this. Are the Elder Nobles of Nauk uniquely stupid, or am I losing my touch?"

[Burrey] "What are you babbling about!"

[Black] "I'm saying you should have kept your eyes open."

With terrifying nonchalance, Black reached out and seized Burrey’s left hand. The movement was so fluid that Burrey didn't even realize he’d been caught until Black’s fingers tightened.

[Black] "Too late. Once I have you, it’s over."

A sound echoed through the hall—a sound Rosadel and Ellaroyden knew far too well.

CRACK.

[Burrey] "AGGGGHHH!"

He collapsed, clutching his shattered wrist and howling at the ceiling.

[Burrey] "What have you done?! Guards! Where are you?! Are you going to let him murder me?!"

Black didn't wait for the guards. He delivered a swift, brutal kick to the back of Burrey’s knee.

[Burrey] "Gah!"

The noble hit the floor face-first, sobbing. The pain in his knee was a perfect match for the agony in his wrist.

[Noble] "This... this is madness..."

The other nobles, who had been standing by in shock, finally began to scramble backward.

Having lived their entire lives protected by their titles, they couldn't wrap their minds around the fact that someone was actually hurting them.

[Noble] "How... how can you...?"

[Black] "It’s too loud in here. Sit down. We have an assembly to run."

[Burrey] "My men... my soldiers are right outside..."

[Black] "They were outside."

[Burrey] "What...?"

[Black] "They aren't there anymore."

[Burrey] "What do you mean? Why aren't they there?"

[Black] "Check for yourself if you’re so curious."

Black stepped aside, clearing the path to the door.

Two of the nobles shared a panicked look and bolted for the exit.

While they were gone, Black walked to the head of the table—the seat traditionally reserved for the Kleinfelter Chairman—and sat down with predatory grace. Naturally, the two prisoners were forced to kneel on the floor beneath him.

[Black] "Begin."

Rosadel jumped at the command.

[Rosadel] "Right! Yes! Let’s... let’s begin. Everyone, take your seats!"

No one helped Burrey up. He remained slumped on the floor, waiting for the cavalry that would never come.

When the two nobles who had run out finally returned, their faces were the color of ash.

---

The soldiers were gone.

All that remained in the courtyard were abandoned weapons, a few smears of blood, and a handful of Tiwakan mercenaries standing around looking bored.

Black had followed Liene’s request to avoid unnecessary bloodshed to the letter. It was a pity the other families hadn't realized how lucky they were.

Beyond the numbers, there was a chasm of skill that could not be crossed. Burrey’s "soldiers" were pampered guards who only used their swords for practice; Tiwakan were men who called the battlefield home.

[Arland] "...and that concludes the formal charges."

Since the Assembly was called by the Crown, a speaker was needed. Arland had stayed up all night preparing the documents. He began distributing them to the trembling nobles.

The papers detailed exactly what Lyndon and his "bastard" son had done, accompanied by a step-by-step legal breakdown of how their actions constituted high treason under Nauk law.

If they could read, they couldn't argue.

[Arland] "Therefore, the only appropriate sentence under the law is death by hanging."

The word "hanging" sent a shockwave through the room.

[Noble] "You can’t! You absolutely can’t!"

One of the two nobles with intact wrists finally found his voice. Lyndon joined him, his eyes wild.

[Lyndon] "You would hang me? Who would dare?"

Black slowly turned his head to look at him. His gaze was flat, bored, and utterly terrifying. It asked a simple question:

Who would stop me?

[Lyndon] "Do you think the people will stand for this? Do you think this land will accept such an act?"

Lyndon wasn't backing down. He was terrified of Black, yes, but he was more terrified of the gallows.

If he were sent to the gallows, he was certain his private army would storm the castle. It would be the start of a civil war.

One of the other nobles raised a shaking hand.

[Noble] "I... I vote against the sentence."

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