Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 183: The Taverns Fight.

Chapter 183: The Taverns Fight.

Afternoon.

Tavern Inn, Village.

Critic-Ishire.

**********

A bark of laughter attacked Lydia’s ears as they moved further into the tavern, it was from a lousy group in the space. All the group was lousy and there appeared to be no woman in the space.

"Mi’lady say fuck if you are in trouble!" another howled.

She clutched his arm tighter as she murmured. "Theo"

"They are just drunk men,’’ he reassured her through clenched teeth but she would feel anything but reassurance if she saw how his face darkened at that moment, at that comment.

"I could treat ya better than the young lad" the loud man added.

Theodore’s head turned to the men as he sent a chilling glare their way before he clenched his teeth and resumed his slow walk.

"Theodore I am so proud of you for not overreacting" Conan whispered.

They reached a sitting area where the lord paused and instructed. "Conan grab whatever we may need"

Conan felt blood drain from his face. "Theodore no" the knight cautioned with a pale face, he knew what was about to happen and he wished Theodore wouldn’t engage...

"Tom, yes?" he waited and got a nod from the boy before he continued. "Follow me"

Theodore’s eyes found his wife, she already appeared nervous with a slight frown marring her forehead, with gentle fingers she wiped the frown away making her unconsciously smile. He held her chin up with his index so she could meet his attractive eyes, his blue blue eyes. "Lydia love, sit here and look forever pretty" As he said those words he was already helping her sit on a stool without her knowing as she held his gaze all the way. She refused to glance at them as she was a bit too frightened, she had never been in a situation like this before.

"Theodore you said they were merely drunk" she tried to reason but the craze in her husband’s eyes was unreasonable.

He smirked, yes the drunk ship has sailed and they’re now punishable. "Relax and enjoy Gooseberry" he whispered, dropped a kiss on her cheek and turned towards the useless group.

"Go bring me lady over, Mass" Their perceived master sent perhaps his best man to get him, Lydia.

Theodore scoffed at the awful yet creative nickname, Mass probably because the man was large and his beard alone could wrap his pathetic wife at home like a towel, and then he realised he had said all that out without regret.

"Touch my wife and I will not be as merciful" Theodore warned but...

Said Mass rushed over with a dirty grin and Theodore with a shake of his head swung his arm and when his wrist connected with the bull neck cord he ended up fat and cold on the floor, the men saw this and in an angry battle cry and roar they jump down from their seats and headed for attacking Theodore who took a combat stance while remaining a bit closer to his wife.

The fire crackled, and the smell of hearty stew began to fill the air as the innkeeper and his wife bustled about, preparing a meal fit for their distinguished guests, completely unfazed by the chaos going on, on the other side of their inn, the tavern.

Conan watched with interest as Theodore enjoyed himself, it has been a while and perhaps the lord needed this, with the amount of shit, Salvadore and his mother had offered them. A man skillfully rushed towards Lydia when Theodore got preoccupied and it didn’t take two seconds for Conan to pull out a dagger from his leg weapon strap and swing it for the scapegoat. A wail of agony is the next sound that rings out, the swung knife had swiped off the idiot’s left ear, landing right and staying on the wall on the other end.

Lydia kept her gaze on her husband as she gulped, he didn’t spill any blood but he made sure to get vital points and they mostly got knocked out cold, the passive drinkers sat and merely enjoyed the view. Moments later after grunts and wails, Theodore stood across a retreating group and a small heap of five men.

Theodore took a cup from the table closest to him and swung it without warning and it landed square on their leader’s forehead, he was still sitting down perhaps trying to maintain his fat oily face but Theodore wasn’t about to let that happen. The leader clutched his forehead for a second before quickly feigning unconsciousness, but Theodore won’t approach him because then they’d be a bad distance between him and his wife and he didn’t want that so he let the douchebag go before approaching his wary and surprised wife.

"Come on, my love" Theodore offered his palm to his waiting wife, and she took it with a passive expression, he grabbed her waist with his large warm palm then he helped her down the stool, and her palm ended up flat on his chest, she breathed him in with relief.

"Pardon my manners I should have offered a drink" he whispered into her ear.

"Rum" she corrected, her cheeks flaming hot.

"Oh Lydia" he chuckled drawing her closer to himself, the weather was getting chilly as they stepped outside.

His men right after them, met Blanc by the door with a large beef in his hand and they merely shook their heads.

"That is lord Theodore!" a woman screeched from inside, the only woman inside, the innkeeper’s wife.

"No!" she groaned again. "I am suspending all of you from coming here for the next four days!"

Male groans and grunts followed right afterwards.

Tom had a silly grin on his cheek as they strolled for their ride, he just fought off bad guys, his thoughts.

*

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Next Day.

Evening.

Bedroom Chambers, Citadel.

Critic Citadel, Critic-Ishire.

*****************

"What have you done?" Salvadore barked a question at Liza right after marching into her chambers. The investigation had carried on after the departure of Theodore and Lydia and they had found out the crown was never taken by Lydia but by her sister, Liza who had then invited Lydia to the right places to make her look like the culprit. The head maiden never exactly caught Lydia stealing the crown, she merely saw her leaving the premises where Liza had invited her to meet.

"I am not sure what you are talking about" Liza responded as she sat in front of the mirror, scanning her face.

"Do you think we invited him here for you to have fun?" his question.

She ignored him

"The intention was not to have fun!" he added if the situation could be called funny.

"I hated how she was somehow weaving herself into Mother’s heart, that is my place" she answered back her reasoning.

"You did it out of spite!" Salvadore barked his surprise, her shoulders drew together in fright. while he took a threatening stance closer to her. "You wish to know why you would never measure up to Lydia? because her first instinct is not evil" he chided heartlessly.

"And you can never be like your brother because of your instability and he would never yell at his woman like this" she answered back ruthlessly, her breast red and sweating on her heaving chest.

"Well you, Liza is not my woman" he bellowed, looked around the chambers in disgust before turning away and leaving the room.

Lizas’ lips quivered, her eyes rapidly blinking as she tried to blink away her tears as she could feel the sting behind the balls. She didn’t want to cry but her life was becoming a mess and she didn’t know what to do about it. Her knees became weak and she gave up on them, she let her knees connect with the polished floor as she wailed, her tears uncontrollably running from her eyes and down her cheeks. She cried for minutes before she felt an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach creeping up her chest and making her pause mid-cry just before she launched herself for the chamberpot, she vomited all the contents in her stomach before she could breathe but then she started to dry heave and salivate. She went through this for an hour before getting into bed and curling over herself.

Her gaze hardened suddenly, she needed to meet the old witch again.

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