Interim Chancellor
Location: Not today
Tags:
Aurelian reacted the second he noticed the subtle shift in her stance, the way her shoulders tensed, the unnerving sharpness in her eyes. It was too sharp, too willing, far too close to the edge he wouldn't let her fall over, not for his sake.
He moved in behind her without a word, his hand closing gently but firmly around her wrist. Sibylla gasped, her breath catching, but she didn't fight him as he eased the vibroknife from her fingers. Her pulse thrummed beneath his touch, a sharp vibration of adrenaline. He met her gaze, seeing not fear or disapproval, but a fierce, unyielding protectiveness tinged with guilt. This was his fight, his mess, his enemies. It wasn't hers to stain her soul over.
Aurelian smoothly took her place, his knee hooking into the thug's ribs, the blade angled under the man's jaw. The thug's breath hitched in terror, and for good reason. Aurelian's voice was calm, level, and deadly. "Are you going to talk?"
The brute from Farstine spat on Aurelian's jacket. Aurelian didn't even flinch, merely wiping the spittle away with two fingers and flicking it aside. His gaze caught a mark on the man's wrist, a brand half-hidden by a strip of fabric. Recognition flared across Aurelian's face like lightning. His jaw tightened. That single detail told him all he needed to know.
The man didn't get another question. The blade slid cleanly across his throat, efficient and final. The body went still. Aurelian didn't look back as he walked away. As soon as he reached Sibylla, he pulled her into him with an urgent, instinctive force, one arm around her shoulders, the other cradling the back of her head. Blood slicked their clothes, but he held her as if anchoring himself to something solid before the fury within him could break free. "Are you hurt?" he rasped against her ear, his thumb brushing her cheek, wiping away a smear of blood that wasn't his. "Are you alright?"
Before she could answer, voices called from the street. Dockworkers, half-drunk and half-aware, hurried down from the bar, their eyes widening at the scene. "Shiraya above... Marcus! Are you alright?"
Aurelian didn't release her hand as he turned, his posture straightening, regaining a controlled composure. "I'm fine," he said, his voice crisp. "I need the bodies taken up to Rainspire. Quietly. And the pier cleaned." The workers exchanged glances, then nodded with the kind of respect usually reserved for his bloodline. "For you, we'll handle it. No questions." Aurelian slipped a stack of credits into the nearest hand. "For the trouble." They bowed their heads, already moving.