MTLNOVEL Chapter 155: [155] Knives Out
Xavier adjusted the fine blue tunic one final time as he followed the servant through corridors that belonged in a dream rather than a fortress. The volcanic stone walls were polished to mirror perfection, embedded with crystal formations that cast dancing shadows in the warm light. Tapestries depicting ancient battles hung between carved archways, while the floor beneath his boots was inlaid with patterns that seemed to shift and flow like liquid fire.
The clothing they'd provided transformed him completely. Gone was the blood-stained survivor who'd stumbled through Hearthome's gates. In his place stood someone who could pass for minor nobility—the deep blue fabric brought out his altered eye color, while the gray cloak suggested wealth without ostentation. Even his boots had been replaced with soft leather that made no sound against the stone.
But beneath the finery, the Soul Mark burned cold between his shoulder blades, a constant reminder that appearances meant nothing to ancient powers that measured time in eons.
The servant stopped before massive double doors carved with flame motifs. "The High Burner's private dining hall," he announced, bowing slightly. "You are expected."
Xavier nodded his thanks and pushed through the doors into a chamber that took his breath away.
The room was intimate despite its grandeur—perhaps thirty feet square, with a domed ceiling that captured and amplified the warmth from volcanic vents hidden in the walls. A single table dominated the center, set for six with crystal goblets and silverware that caught the light from a chandelier carved from a single massive crystal. Steam rose from discrete vents around the room's perimeter, creating an atmosphere that felt more like a tropical garden than a winter fortress.
Three people were already seated, and Xavier's world stopped.
Calypso sat between two men at the far side of the table, her wine-red hair catching the crystal light like liquid fire. The purple eyes that met his across the room held the entire universe—recognition, longing, relief, and something deeper that made his chest tight with emotion he couldn't name.
She was magnificent.
The gown she wore was midnight blue silk that made her skin glow like porcelain, cut in elegant lines that somehow managed to be both modest and devastating. Garnets at her throat caught the light with each breath, while her hair was arranged in an elaborate style that left her neck bare except for wisps of red that had escaped their pins.
But it was her eyes that undid him. For just an instant, the careful mask of Lady Selene slipped, and he saw Calypso—his Calypso—staring back at him with naked hunger and desperate relief. The performance dropped completely, revealing the raw connection that had pulled them across dimensions and through divine entanglement.
She wanted him. Needed him. The same way he'd been aching for her since the moment they'd been separated.
Then the mask slid back into place, and she was Lady Selene once more—composed, elegant, and utterly untouchable.
"Ah, our guest of honor arrives!
"Your Grace, Your Lordship." Xavier inclined his head respectfully while fighting the urge to vault over the table and claim Calypso's mouth in front of everyone.
"None of that formality," Torval boomed, gesturing to an empty chair across from Calypso. "Please, sit. We're all friends here."
He took the indicated seat. It was a position of honor, yet it left him isolated. Directly opposite Calypso, the object of his long search, yet with Duke Haverford positioned as a human bulwark between them. Nothing about this was accidental. The dinner was a battlefield, and the table had been set for war.
"Lady Selene," Xavier said, meeting her eyes across the table. "I trust you've recovered from your recent illness?"
"Much improved, thank you." Her voice was perfectly modulated, but Xavier caught the slight breathiness that suggested she was fighting the same impulses he was. "I find I am much improved now that... hopeful news has arrived from the north."
Her gaze never left his face as she spoke, and the words hit him like a physical touch. I missed you, those purple eyes said. I've been waiting.
"How wonderful to hear," Duke Haverford interjected smoothly. "Lady Selene has been quite concerned about reports from the northern passes. Such a compassionate nature."
"The reports have been troubling," Calypso agreed, though her attention remained fixed on Xavier. "So many travelers lost to the harsh conditions. It's... heartening to know that some possess the strength to survive such trials."
"Strength. Yes." Haverford's tone carried subtle emphasis. "Though I wonder if survival isn't sometimes a matter of knowing when to retreat rather than stand and fight."
"Sometimes retreat isn't an option," Xavier replied, his eyes still locked with Calypso's. "Sometimes you have to fight for what matters most, regardless of the odds."
"How noble," Haverford said dryly. "Though nobility and practicality don't always align, do they?"
Servants appeared with the first course—delicate soup that smelled of herbs and warm spices. Xavier forced himself to look away from Calypso long enough to acknowledge the food, though he had no appetite for anything but the woman across from him.
"Tell us about your journey," Torval said, settling back in his chair. "The reports we've received are fascinating, but I'd prefer to hear the story from the hero himself."
Xavier chose his words carefully, spinning a version of events that emphasized survival over supernatural abilities. He spoke of Thornbeasts and Vorthaks, of caravans destroyed and companions lost, while Calypso hung on every word with an intensity that made his pulse race.
"Three Thornbeasts," Duke Haverford mused when Xavier finished. "With only a dagger. That seems... improbable."
"Desperation makes men capable of remarkable things," Xavier replied.
"Indeed it does." Haverford's blue eyes were thoughtful. "Though I wonder what drives a man to such desperate measures. What were you truly seeking in the northern wastes?"
The question was loaded with implication. Xavier glanced at Calypso, whose slight nod told him she understood the game being played.
"Purpose," Xavier said simply. "My path has been uncertain, but it seems to have led me exactly where I needed to be."
The words were for her alone, and the way her breath caught told him she'd received the message. I came for you, his gaze said. Everything else was just the journey.
"Purpose is a luxury for the young," Haverford observed. "As men mature, they learn to value stability over adventure."
"Some purposes are worth any risk," Calypso said softly, her fingers playing with the stem of her crystal goblet. "Don't you think, Your Grace?"
"Perhaps. Though wisdom suggests that some risks are... unnecessary." Haverford's smile was polite but cold. "Especially when safer paths lead to the same destination."