"Dad, you didn't bathe..." Anna said slowly, her voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust.
"Well, I took a bath before leaving for the meeting," he retorted, a hint of defensiveness in his tone.
Anna's nose crinkled further as she replied, "That doesn't count..." She pinched her nose dramatically, exaggerating her reaction to emphasize her point.
Henri sighed, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his features. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, acknowledging the truth in his daughter's words without verbally conceding.
Henri made his way back along the garden path, each step deliberate and balanced, even in his fatigued state. The gravel crunched softly under his feet, a counterpoint to the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.
Anna watched his retreating back for a moment before turning right towards the gazebo, choosing a different path.
She contemplated what her dad had said. "What do I see Leonardo as.." she mused slowly, her brow furrowing in concentration. The pergola cast intricate shadows across the garden path.
"Lady Anna," a voice called out, slicing through the relative silence of the area.
Anna's head snapped up, her eyes immediately drawn to the top of the gazebo. There, perched atop its domed roof like some impossible bird or gargoyle, sat a figure that seemed almost otherworldly against the backdrop of the lush garden.
"What are you doing here again?" she said, her voice laced with annoyance and wariness. Then, remembering her father's presence nearby, she added with more force, "Dad's here, so go."
The figure above shifted slightly, and Anna could now make out more details. It was Altan, his white hair flowing like liquid silk in the gentle garden breeze. He sat on the gazebo's roof as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his posture relaxed yet unnervingly alert.
"Oh, Anna, your dad fears me..." Altan said, his voice carrying easily despite the distance. He turned his gaze fully toward her, a spark of predatory interest igniting in his eyes. "Where's Leonardo? Oh wait, the tour guide's son?" he asked, his tone stripping away any pretense of idle curiosity.
Anna paused, her fingers tightening imperceptibly. Her mind raced, weighing her options. She couldn't use any of her skills here, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable on the open training ground.
"He's..." she began, her voice trailing off as she carefully weighed her words.
"Yeah?" Altan leaned forward from his perch, his focus now razor-sharp.
"Dead," she stated flatly, turning to walk closer toward the gazebo.
Altan's reaction was instantaneous. He dropped from his perch, landing silently near Anna and crouching to meet her gaze. His eyes, which had seemed distant before, now bored into hers with frightening intensity.
"What do you mean dead?" Altan demanded, his voice low and urgent. "The tour guide's son is dead? What are you going to say to him? Wait, does the tour guide even care?"
Every time Altan opened his mouth, Anna noticed how his jaw seemed to stretch unnaturally wide. His teeth—no, not teeth, it was serrated like a shark's—which glinted wickedly in the sunlight.
It was a disconcerting sight that sent an uncontrollable shiver down her spine.
"Why does your armor shine faintly like that?" Anna asked, partly from genuine curiosity but mostly to steer the conversation away from Leonardo.
Altan paused, his gaze sweeping over Anna as if reassessing her. After a moment, he responded, "It isn't obvious?" Condescension dripped from his voice as he looked down at her. "It makes the enemy see me better in war. It's a tactic... a fun one," he added, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur.
But Altan's momentary distraction vanished. His demeanor snapped back, his focus laser-sharp. "Where's the son?" he demanded, the question now infused with a new, unsettling urgency.
"I told you, he died," Anna repeated, the word itself sending another shudder through her body. She struggled to maintain her composure as Altan's imposing figure seemed to loom over her, his distant, unnaturally glowing white eyes cutting through the garden's peace.
As Altan's hand shot out to grab Anna, a streak of searing red sliced through the air, sizzling past a nearby flowerbed. The unexpected attack forced Altan into a swift sidestep.
Adelaide stood framed in a window, her sword still in hand, its blade gleaming red-hot and radiating palpable danger.
Seizing the opportunity, Anna lunged. She yanked open the gazebo door and scrambled up the interior stairs towards the balcony, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Altan, recovering from his surprise, turned his predatory focus to Adelaide. His voice took on a mocking lilt.
"It's fortunate you were saved from a ruined family, like the Mortimers," he said slowly, watching as Adelaide charged another blast.
"Alright, I'll leave," he conceded. Then, turning slightly, he added, his voice dropping to something barely audible, "But then again... I really want to kill an original member of the de Meaux..."
In an instant, his figure vanished.
Adelaide, however, instinctively snapped her gaze upwards, her keen senses tracking movement high above. There, suspended against the vast sky above the garden, Altan hovered, a dark speck.
"Riddle me this," Altan's voice somehow carried down, though it was impossible anyone below should hear him from such a height, "How quickly could I destroy this floor?" The sprawling property stretched out beneath him like a masterfully crafted tapestry, each section meticulously designed and maintained – the estate's true scale and majesty laid bare in a way impossible to grasp from the ground.
Back on the balcony, Adelaide turned her attention to Anna, who had frozen mid-step. "Is he your new guide?" Adelaide asked, her voice sharp with suspicion and concern.
Anna's eyes widened at the suggestion. "Nooooo," she drawled out emphatically, shaking her head vigorously as she finally pushed through the door, desperate to put distance between herself and the unsettling specter of Altan.