Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 62: Hound Is Back.

Chapter 62: Hound Is Back.

Hounds Cottage, Theodore Mansion.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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

Red jumped down Hound’s immaculate bed and started to round Lydia’s feet, she picked him up and stood up with a frown.

"Welcome back, Hound" she found her voice to whisper.

Hound doesn’t say anything as Lydia turns around, her new pet in hand and her dress bundled in her left palm.

Shade watched in silence, His new theory ready to be shared with his master: The Casted Land poisons one’s body and then sucks the life out of the body slowly.

Hound falls back into his bed, his body strange.

As Lydia reaches the threshold, she is met with the sight of Conan with his sword, he is dressed like a knight today.

"Good afternoon Lady Theodore" he acknowledged, his eyes going behind her and back.

She nodded, her throat dry "Welcome Sir Conan, Hound just woke up, I shall take my leave now" she let out quickly.

"Thank you" he expressed his eyes sincere.

"It was all Red" she smiled, bringing Red closer to her chest.

Conan’s eyes darkened, this was good news but Theodore wouldn’t like how close she and Red were becoming.

He smirked.

*

* *

*

Evening.

Conan’s Bungalow.

Critic Arley, Critic-Ishire.

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

Helena woke up from her visions with a gasp, she hadn’t had any visions since she came to Critic Arley due to exhaustion but today she finally had it and it came rushing with multiple events that had transpired throughout the month, and something strange was in Critic Arley.

"Who is that in Critic Arley" she asked no one in particular.

"I need to write!" she roared as she sprinted to paper down her recent vision.

Right from the beginning of time when Helena saw visions, they had always been about the people of critic Arley, it had started one night after she had cried herself to sleep after finding out her mother was never coming back as she had died fighting with a witch who had given her a disease prior to the fight. Her mother had left for an antidote but never came back.

Now her writing job was slowly attracting too much attention and would soon put her and her family in trouble so she decided to leave.

She thought about the vision she just had and whispered "Strange"

Helena got her ink and paper, and she started to put on paper the vision she gets about the people of Critic Arley.

Her muckrake would be out soon, with interesting bits this time.

Late Evening.

***********

The main door to the bungalow swung open provoking Helena who was already headed inside to sprint into the room where she quickly hid her papers and ink, she slid her trunk shut, before rushing back out.

She reached and Conan had already stepped inside, he rested his sword by the door before he began to pull out his shoes, and she watched from behind a wall in the hallway, curious.

He is silent and calm as he stands stretching his neck.

Her eyes traced his body. Conan is clothed in the empire’s knight’s attire, it is simple and familiar yet in Helena’s eyes he manages to portray an image of refinement and suitability.

In his tailored suit of shining armour, meticulously crafted with polished steel beautified by complex engravings. The helm of the armour is adorned with a majestic crest, His shoulders appear intimidating and strong with determination, she continues to watch him as he pulls off the suit.

Helena gazed with interest as underneath the suit armour a rich surcoat that was embroidered so regally she felt intimidated came to view.

It complements the armour.

The arrangement of the attire not only offers protection, resilience and Critic-Ishire style it also exudes sophistication and Conan’s perfection.

She sighed. Pleased then she jumped out into his view, her smile wide, he turned to her.

"Welcome home Sir Conan" she shrieked a welcome greeting, her long hair reaching her hip as she bowed slightly.

Home, Conan mused.

This isn’t home to Conan, it’s his bungalow house, but Helena looked really homey yet creepy in her straight white dress, why does she dress like this??

"Why are you dressed like a ghost?" he asked her, his first words.

She sighed. Her soft palm connected with her oily face.

She blinked as she stared at his effortlessly gorgeous, covered in red armour, his bicep bulging. Yet, Just when she decides to be a sweet girl, he asks her a damning question.

"I’m hungry" she announced instead, looking up at him as he moved closer, intending to get inside.

Conan met her eyes and his heart finally did a flip he had felt the heart shifting to perform for a while now.

She is able to look almighty and desirable in such a plain dress, her long hair inviting to have wrapped around his fingers despite being a bit tangled.

He could help her untangle it, he thought and that brought a frown to his face, his frown that Helena caught nudging her to raise a brow.

He nodded "Let me freshen up, what would you like to eat?" he asked as he stepped past her.

She mumbled "Anything Conan, I want it hot"

He met her glimmering ocean-blue eyes.

He wanted it hot too. He shook his head and headed to the room.

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

They had dinner in silence, Helena thought about her vision so her mind was preoccupied throughout the meal. The man she had seen in a motel, looked familiar because he was the witch she saw travelling to Critic Arley at the same time as her, the one who had a cart.

Why is he in Critic Arley and why did he kill?

Conan stared at her as he ate, he tried to focus on his food but she kept frowning as she ate he thought perhaps she didn’t like the food.

"Do you not enjoy the neal?" he asked with a feigned relaxed tone.

"Mmm?" she asked absentmindedly.

He shook his head "How did you spend your day?" he inquired about her day, genuinely interested.

"I... right! Let’s finish eating first" she said and then she started to stuff her mouth with food so as to finish fast.

"If you choke you’ll look ugly," he says quietly picking a glass of whiskey.

"So you’re admitting that I am quite a beauty" she whispered batting her lashes seductively.

He chokes.

He started into a fit of cough as the drink passed the wrong path. His eyes were red as he tried to settle his breath.

Damn it, he cursed mentally.

Helena blushed, her gaze lowered as she passed him a glass of water.

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

"Where is your sword?" Helena asked.

They had just finished having dinner and Conan was relaxing on a couch when Helena reached for his sword.

"Wow it’s nimble" she complemented.

His eyes widened as she pulled the sword out of its sheath, she might not know but the sword is sharp and dangerous, Conan had spent the morning sharpening that blade.

He stood up abruptly but she was already running her fingers on the edge testing it.

Within a blink of an eye, her index and middle finger acquired a deep cut as the edge that she traced had sliced her.

She dropped the blade with a gasp, the metal resounded on the floor next to her feet as she clutched her wrist.

Conan is by her side in a breeze, he grabs her left wrist, the wounded one and drags her in a rush to his small office room, it is filled with books but that is not the focus.

He guided the now quiet lady to a couch before scurrying to get the gauze sterile bandage and antiseptic from his cupboard, as a knight he had these things around the house from his mother.

Conan went back to the couch and sat next to her, the fingers were still bleeding while she watched it.

He gazed at her then the finger in agony, hurriedly he took her hand, The delicate hand bore a painful wound from the sharp blade, crimson staining her pale skin.

Swiftly, Conan cleansed her cut with mild antiseptic, he applied gentle pressure to control the bleeding, she gasped repeatedly while he secured her fingers with a sterile bandage, guaranteeing her fingers protection from any sort of infection.

She took her hand back, her brows furrowed as she kept looking at the blood in front of her.

"How can you be so careless, playing with a sword" he asked in a defeated yet scolding tone.

"Playing ?!" she shrieked in grievance

"You think...I..." she breathed in before leaving the office in angry strides. He followed suit immediately.

She took something from the ground, something he hadn’t noticed before next to where her blood first dropped. Helena turned to him her face blank.

"Here, I got this for you and the damn sword, next time I will be sure not to play with it" she said pointing the gif to him, he doesn’t move so she does.

She brushed past him, propping the gift on his chest.

His brows creased, she was furious.

"Helena" he growled but all he heard was a bang on their bedroom door.

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