CHAPTER 125: KILL THEM ALL

Kill them.

Kill them all.

Rhane repeated in his mind as he chewed the undercooked carrot like a curse which should be thrown out.

The hall bellowed with laughter. As if everyone gathered had been waiting for a moment to ease off awkwardness, and for a gathering of men, their relief was to tear another apart.

Another whom they believed wasn’t supposed to be above but always beneath, with no mind of their own. So even when the laughter tried to die down, another man would bring up something.

"My wife said she would leave if I brought in another woman with a child. That night she screamed my name... now my house has two women pregnant including my wife." A man added.

As expected, the laughter grew even more than the first.

Rhane continued to eat, his attention solely on the meal before him. Peacefully, like he wasn’t in the room, but deadly, like he had already killed everyone in it.

He’d known this moment would come, he had already waited for it from the moment he stepped down from the carriage. Gerald always played dirty, like a weak coward.

Gerald didn’t mind toiling in mud as long as he dragged another along with him. Rhane knew this, but despite that... his blood boiled.

He couldn’t stand or stomach Jenna being a topic of mockery before men. Even in the presence of his father.

"Fool," Rhane cursed when he glanced at the man that smiled at intervals.

The man sitting next to Rhane was still caught in a fit of laughter, when he heard Rhane growl. He turned with his teeth shining under the candlelight, "Do you also have a sto— of gods! The spoon."

Everyone turned their attention on Rhane, but he didn’t stop eating. The spoon he held had been bent into half.

"What strength is..." some of them began to whisper amongst themselves. Their laughter and high spirits died a quick death.

The leader of the council took it as a hint to continue speaking. "We will make it quick, the tournament... it’ll commence with a ritual and a visit to a home where women, fine proper women stay, just in case you have a change of mind. The rest of the activities will be kept secret so no man would prepare ahead... everything done will be seen by everyone as pure instinct and natural strength. That is all."

Rhane didn’t nod or say a word. Done with eating, he picked up the napkin beside him and dabbed his lips. He could see the smug smile on Gerald’s lips. The idiot was plain as sand near the sea.

Everything said at the table was a lie; the activities for the tournament had already been made known to Gerald. Rhane knew that much. It was the reason he sat relaxed, acting like a king who built a castle near the beach.

Rhane wiped his hands, pushing the chair back with his weight, and stood up. "It was a long journey to this place. I will take my leave to rest, before tomorrow comes."

"You should, yes." Brown replied, "My servant— oh Percy will show you to your room."

Percy, who had been standing behind Rhane, bowed. When his eyes met the spoon and what Rhane had done to it, he gulped softly before running ahead to open the door for him.

Relax, Rhane. Don’t kill them.

Rhane reminded himself as he calmly waltzed out of the hall. The moment the wind touched his face, Rhane turned to a dark path and threw up everything he had eaten while inside the hall.

"Are you—" Percy’s eyes darted around the place worriedly, not wasting any time to ask around. He rushed inside and returned with a jar of water.

Rhane took the water from the young man, washed his face and rinsed his mouth, then he drank the rest. Never in his life had he believed staying with his kind would leave him sick. His stomach ached, and his whole body burned.

He hated it here. He wanted to set it all ablaze and leave after making sure not a single soul slipped.

Percy didn’t need to ask further what had happened. He was disgusted as well during the conversation in the hall, but it wasn’t something new. Percy had witnessed noble men say even worse.

"Where is the room?" Rhane asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"T- this way," Percy gestured. When Rhane began walking, he trotted behind him, careful not to bump into him or even annoy his already growing fury.

Getting to the room, Rhane entered and locked the door, leaving Percy outside. He tore his shirt open; as expected, he had clenched his muscles too hard, the stitches had ripped on their own.

"Jenna, help me not kill your kin before I claim you." Rhane groaned, as he began cleaning the wound again. A fresh stitch and new bandage was in order.

Rhane didn’t use ale or alcohol to quench the pain as he stabbed himself with the needle. He wanted to feel the pain, in his defense for not protecting Jenna while those pigs mocked him.

If for anything, Rhane believed he should have castrated Gerald for a start, then served him his tongue as dinner. But he hadn’t, because he needed to pretend he wasn’t a rogue or brute in front of noble men.

Done with closing back his wound, Rhane took out the letter he had received earlier. Jenna had written to those she left at the Merchant village, but it wasn’t all.

Jenna had cried.

Rhane lay down on the bed, with one hand behind his head. He closed his eyes, wondering what Jenna was doing at the moment. If she thought of him like he did her, if she also imagined what life would be after they married.

Rhane was grateful that Jenna had finally accepted what she felt for him before the tournament had begun. Else he would be fighting all for nothing. But it didn’t matter. Nobody— not the council, or Gerald, or even Rhane himself, could tear him away from Jenna.

The tournament was for courtesy, Rhane thought, feeling the sharp ache around his stomach. His temperature was running high. And the calmness he showed was for Jenna.

With his eyes getting heavy, Rhane closed them, hoping that sleep would help relax his body before the next day, so he could go to see Jenna.

Not to ask her why she had cried, but to remind her that she had him no matter what.

"Mine," Rhane mumbled in his sleep. His body burning up as the night deepened.