The Distinguished Mr. Rose Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Whispers of the Deceiver

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Chapter 41: Whispers of the Deceiver Ogier twisted his face and stepped back, his weapon drawn. The dusk hung high above them. Here, in the dead of night, not a soul was around to interfere. “I do not take kindly to those who prowl in the dark,” he said, sweat dripping down his brow. Ogier was uneasy. Lucius didn’t understand why, though. The gentleman was as friendly as could be. Surely there was nothing frightening about someone like himself, no? The Peer seemed to think otherwise. He regarded Lucius with a wariness unlike any he’d shown before: not even whilst battling the demons. “Now, now, let us talk with words, hm? We aren’t savages,” Lucius said, flashing him a dashing smile. “My name is Lucius Rose, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” “I do not care. State your intentions, night-walker.” “Language, Sir Ogier.” “Apologies.” The man startled and looked at himself, confusion etched onto his scruffy beard. “What have you done to me?” “Pardon?” “This… compulsion. It is unnatural, as if a hex has been cast onto my heart.” Lucius shrugged his shoulders. “I am merely being polite.” He wasn’t quite sure what a ‘night-walker’ was, but it sure did sound like a Frankish profanity. “And I have already conveyed my intentions plainly: I wish to know you better. Who is Ogier, the man? What does he like—his interest? Why does he burden himself under a perpetual cycle of self-flagellation and despair? There is much I’d like to discuss with you.” Lucius spoke with no lies, nor any attempts to deceive unlike the usual. He was, without a doubt, wholly genuine. Ogier was a fascinating specimen just like all the other Peers. Such falsehoods and lies they veiled themselves in, refusing to acknowledge that which dwelled deep in the crevices of their soul… how could the gentleman resist nurturing that budding beauty? “You speak true,” Ogier said, baffled by his own words. “Your interest is confusing. Why seek me out now, creeping like an assassin?” “I do not know what you mean. A busy person such as yourself would have little time to humor little ol’ humble me, so I searched for an opportunity that we may speak in private. I just so happened by chance to see you alone after the memorial service, and thus here I am: a gentleman in the flesh. No sneaking or prowling here.” Okay, now he was lying. “Impossible. I did not feel any presence until you drew near.” “Perhaps you weren’t paying attention? You seem a bit inebriated, my good sir. I myself enjoy the occasional drink every now and then, but moderation is very important if you wish to keep a hale and hearty body.” Lucius didn’t give the man a chance to question their circumstance. Every accusation was rapidly beaten away with a well-timed excuse—every suspicion repelled with an innocent dose of manipulation. “I… perhaps you are correct,” Ogier muttered, having been thoroughly drained of all resistance. The victor of this match went to Lucius. “Much has happened this day. I am in need of rest.” “Would you prefer us retire to your quarters?” Lucius asked. “I rather fancy the evening hours myself, but this isn’t about me. It’s about you . I only wish for whatever shall best bring you comfort.” Ogier raised his head. Drowsiness sagged below his eyes, and though he was still a bit cautious toward Lucius, the Peer let out an annoyed grumble and beckoned for him to follow. “Fine. I am also curious about you, otherworlder. What your ilk are capable of—I will decide for myself here.” The two trekked their way out of the dark and back into civilized society. Ogier didn’t go toward the barracks, however. His dwelling resided in an isolated shack far off to the side - away from the others. And by shack, Lucius really did mean a shack. The wood serving as the base was splintered and rotted, the ceiling nearly brushed against the Peer’s head, and the only curio of note inside was a broken bed. Lucius was utterly horrified. Ogier tried to step inside, but the gentleman stopped him. “One moment, my friend,”