4 —THE ABOMINABLE GOLDEN EYES

FOUR

A master's degree in disregarding, major in masking emotions.

Verēna, of course, only learned the terms from the Astreon of Ferguan Clan, but it was fitting enough to describe her false nonchalance as the imposing plateau where the Minister's estate erected atop drew closer. They simply called it Plateau.

The hidden parchment she carried felt heavy again and seemed to even weigh heavier the moment they'd reached the base where a dozen or so guards were stationed. All were clad in a tight-fitted navy blue high necked long sleeve shirt over a sleeveless paler shade of knee-length robe with hip-high slits on the either side, black trousers and mid-calf high dark boots. They all stood broodingly in two semi-circles around the only transport lifts that would carry them to the top.

The three lords were the first to step out of the carriage and only then did she follow suit, eyes fixated at the outer circle guards' halberds and the inner circle guards' basket hilted swords hoisted on their waists. All wielded by equally lean, muscled men which seemed to take their duties dead serious as their attention zeroed in on her with lethal wariness.

"Good day, my lords."

Breaking off from idling, Verēna shifted her focus on the bronze-skinned bald guard who stepped forward from the outer circle. Basing off the authority and confidence he exuded, Verēna concluded that he might be Captain of the Minister's Guards she'd always heard of from her father before. And true to his words, the man was intimidating as hell. She was sure it wasn't for the fact that he appeared to be in his early forties as well.

"Ah, Captain Nafier!" Lord Mavi exclaimed in his usual amicable tone. "It's always good to see ya 'ere."

"You humble me, Lord Mavi." As if sensing her gaze, the man's chocolate brown eyes settled on hers suspiciously, blacken lips taut. Verēna held the Captain Guard's gaze unfazed. He cocked his head in return, amused by the blatant challenge before it flickered back to Lord Mavi. "I was informed of the arrival of a Seer's disciple. I reckon this lady with you is that person?"

"Ah, indeed, Captain. Allow me to introduce Verēna. Verēna, this is Captain Nafier of the Minister's private guards."

Verēna exchanged civil nod with the Captain.

"Pleasure to meet one of the Seer's disciple. I heard quite some tales about you all," the captain stated neutrally.

"Is it too much to wish that they're all favorable?"

Captain Nafier's lips curled up into a knowing grin. "We can't always have it all, my lady."

Verēna nodded. "Aye," she grimly agreed, then offered a small smile. "Verēna would be fine, Captain. I'm no noble lady, you see."

A flicker of recognition past the Captain's bearing, forehead briefly wrinkling, before it all smoothed out as if it was a mere speck of imagination.

"As you insist, Verēna." He let out a chuckle, eyes flickering to her companions. "Now, I'd stall you long enough. Move along, my lords." To her, he nodded.

A whirring mechanism was already at motion right at the Captain's last word. All of their attention darted past the inner circle of sword-wielding guards and saw one of the gondolas already ascending, carrying a single passenger.

Verēna caught Lord Nuallan's snicker behind her and Lord Mavi's deep breath of frustration. The Captain hummed thoughtfully.

"That's odd. What could be the cause of Lord Kaizo's glumness?"

Verēna's single brow quirked at the question directed to anyone, but didn't answer. She disinterestedly watched the lift boarded by the man in question went up. The transparent glass wall made it possible for her to make out the intense glare he was shooting at their direction. At her direction.

Still angry, I see.

No matter what, Lord Kaizo's action sent a clear, ardent message: he nowhere desired staying within her radius.

As he should be.

* * * * * *

"Vevee! Holy mozzarella cheesecakes! What on crappy guacamole are you doing here?"

All the will of keeping her expression deadly neutral all throughout the course of running her urgent errand fell to naught as Verēna uneasily gawked at the familiar auburn-haired woman running down the marble, grand staircase to the massive household's foyer where she stood utterly flustered.

The second she boarded the other lift to the Minister's estate with the two equally cautious lords who kept a good distance inside, she'd thought the complex, luxuriant garden maze surrounding the manor was more than enough to take her breath away deep inside. But fate was a bitch, just how someone she knew said it before. It'd mess with you unannounced whenever it felt like it. And it just happened that that someone who imparted such wisdom was now racing towards her, flailing arms wide to her side while squealing in delight.

Verēna mentally counted the seconds before it happened. Yet even before she could get to start, all the air was whacked off her lungs as the Astreon of Ferguan Clan wrapped her in a bone-crashing embrace. She coughed at the impact. Past through the Astreon's shoulder, she caught sight of the said clan's brooding yet dashing, fire red-eyed youngest lord descending on the maroon carpeted grand staircase rolling all the way through the entrance's set of double doors. The lord's long, glossy black hair set up in a high pony-tail fluttered behind him, settling down over his broad shoulders clad in silk red kinigashi under a dark haori once he finally reached the bottom. He shot her a quick nod in which she returned with the same gesture.

The startled Lord Nuallan and Lord Mavi were left gaping at them as if disbelieving what had just transpired before their very eyes. Especially the former who eyed her suspiciously again.

Pulling her lips into thin line, she'd decided not to mind the skeptic lord anymore.

Her attention diverted to the squealing woman who was now frantically skipping on her toes all the while embracing her. "Oh my gee! We're so going to have some fun! But first," the woman pulled back and clamped her shoulders, hazel eyes narrowing to slits, "what are you doing here?"

"Hest─"

"Oh, she didn't!" the woman incredulously interjected before she could even start. "Hessy would receive a litany of sermons about slave-driving from me. Don't worry, Vevee. I wil─"

"Let the kid say her piece before you started jumping to conclusions again, Miran," chided by the fire red-eyed lord of Ferguan Clan as he walked up towards them.

The look of disbelief quickly morphed to a frown as the auburn-haired woman whipped her head over her left shoulder. "When will you stop antagonizing me, Rayo? Like seriously. When?"

However, instead of responding to his Astreon, Lord Rayo motioned her a gesture to continue to which the woman before her didn't take favorably.

All that happened while the two other lords just silently watched the unfolding of the scene.

"Hestia send me for some urgent errand that is to be directly detailed to the Minister," she deadpan.

The woman's mouth formed an 'o' at her declaration. Yet it was only a split second when Miran's perfectly flicked brows furrowed as she shot her a voiceless question: why you?

She surely didn't miss the worry in her eyes when she responded with silent trepidation. Words need not to be spoken out loud for Miran to figure it out.

The female Astreon was there when the Seer, her close friend, Hestia, found her fleeing for the neighbor country, Merrill, where she'd seek her deceased father's friend help. Miran was also there when the Minister passed the verdict of her father's so-called treason to the Romulus family. She was there. She was there so Verēna couldn't blame her wondering why Hestia would do such thing. They were friends for so long. If anyone could tell what the country's Seer had on her mind by doing so, it should have been her and no one else.

But it seemed that wasn't the case this time around.

"Would you like me to come with you?" she asked, tone low.

Verēna risked a glance to the self-proclaimed instructors to the Minister, then backed to Miran's concern face. She was tempted to say yes. For once, she didn't trust herself to face the easy task alone. Scared? In a way she was, yet not for her but for the well-being of the parchment's recipient. Wasn't it why she asked Del to tag along? So that the Jeix could pacify the seething rage lurking at the deepest crevices of her subconscious?

Terrified. Though she had an absolute reign of her emotion outside, her inside was in deep turmoil. Had Kira was there with her, she would surely receive a brutal smack at the back of her head for hesitating. The feeling of foreboding while she stood at the Minister's household didn't help at all.

Perhaps she should have boarded that boat with Kise and Andromeda back to Zathras again.

Too late for that.

"I'll be fine," Verēna found herself saying Kise's words which was utterly at odds with her thoughts. "Worry not. It's merely a menial errand unworthy of your time." She gently pulled away from Miran. "See me out after this, would you?"

The Astreon responded with a somber nod which was Verēna's cue to move along, and her escorts to lead the way to the left of the foyer. They shuffled along the bright hallway with her paying not an iota of interest to her suffocating surroundings. Only the muffled stomps of their footsteps against the carpeted floor entertained her away from her growing agitation. It was enough to let her mind astray for a moment.

So when a sudden clunk of heavy metal ripped her off her trance, impassive face yet sharp amber eyes lifted up to see two guards crossing their halberds on her way, preventing her from stepping further, Verēna almost swore out loud. Their stoic faces held hers in the same manner.

"I just said she's an important guest of the Minister. Stand down," Lord Nuallan demanded yet the guards made no sign of heeding.

"Guest or not, we request you to take off your cloak, my lady," gruffly said by the one on Verēna's left which rendered the Jeix silently perched on her shoulder to squeak. "For precautionary measures."

Verēna's jaw set, teeth gritting. Reaching out to untie the ribbon beneath her chin, she gingerly shed her dark laced cloak and gave it to waiting hand of the other guard after taking the parchment from its pocket. On her right shoulder, Del let out a nervous squeak at being revealed from her hiding spot and scrambled to hide herself from Verēna's loose fish braid. The gesture made her floral brass headdress dotted with sapphire gemstones clunk softly, so were the brass chains laxily dangling with little amber teardrop stones on her upper bare back which were connected end to end to the brass petal-layered epaulet.

She involuntary shivered at being exposed. The see-through fabric flaccidly draped the rest of her lower bare back which then went all the way down to her flowing right side high slit black long skirt with ornate brass swirls around the waistband, connecting up across her flat belly to a cropped neck-high top, made her feel somewhat vulnerable.

Her garb was few of the common apparel by her current social standing as Seer's disciple. By culture and moral, it was nowhere near vulgar. Nemiah was after all the melting pot of all culture and traditions by the four clans inhabiting the country, Grevus. So what was the fuss about?

The gruesome, long scars littering her bare back were ones to blame.

Verēna's hip-length braided hair tumbled on her right shoulder followed by Del's cold, tiny hand resting on her cheeks. The guards had already moved out of her way with a slight bow of the head.

Regaining her rehearsed composure, she held her eyes straight ahead to the set of ornate double doors where her companions were waiting. Dismissing their agape expressions, she strode towards them, avoiding eye contact with Lord Nuallan. She could feel his eyes on her though and before he could make another inquiry, Lord Mavi had already knocked thrice on the door, purging whatever he had on his mind.

"Come in."

Verēna's amber eyes glowed in a split second at the sound of the voice, eyes widening ever so slightly before it took a darker shade as sheer sense of bewilderment slammed into her in full tilt.

As the doors swung open at her companions' push, all the confounding glimpse of the voice's owner had her almost reeling up upon settling her gaze down to the person comfortably sitting down cross-legged on top of a glass table, arms propped on the either side behind.

Bright, playful yet astute golden eyes regarded her with a wide smile as it met hers.

Verēna held it unwaveringly. Her grip around the parchment tightened. Only one thought grazed her mind at the moment.

Fates are really a bunch of bitches.

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