Chapter 208: Teach them a lesson
"Why are you drinking tonight when you should be on duty? I thought you would be interrogating Elias," Louis said, stopping beside the dark wooden table in the wine house where Maurice was seated.
"The Duke ordered me to rest tonight. The interrogation will happen tomorrow," Maurice replied, staring down at his drink.
Louis pulled out a heavy chair and settled onto it, leaning forward. "Yes, you should rest sometimes. But it is confusing to see you drinking instead of actually resting."
"I was troubled, which is why I came here to have a single glass, nothing more," Maurice answered. He rotated the glass in his hand, watching the liquid swirl as he continued, "Recently, I failed twice. The blast could have been much bigger. The Duchess could have been hurt far worse. After so long, the Duke is finally able to live well, and I almost let it all be destroyed."
"You didn’t do anything wrong. Why blame yourself?" Louis chuckled, gesturing to the young waiter to bring over another glass. "Besides, it only brought them even closer. Damian is finally showing his love for the Duchess. He’s falling in love with her. Look at the positive side, Maurice, not the negative."
Maurice smiled faintly, the tension in his shoulders relaxing. "Where do you even bring this endless positivity from?" He brought the glass to his lips and took a long sip.
"I was born with it," Louis answered smoothly just as the waiter placed the fresh glass onto the table.
The waiter bowed slightly. "Would you like to order some food to go with that, sir?"
"Yes. Bring us a plate of chicken nuggets," Louis replied.
The waiter left to fulfill the order while the two men continued their conversation into the evening.
"Is Prince August truly trustable? The Duke is ready to help him," Louis suddenly said, his voice dropping to a cautious murmur.
"Yes, I noticed that too," Maurice murmured, his expression turning grim. "Maybe the Duke has something specific in mind."
"We need to stay on high alert," Louis said with a stern gaze, pouring a fresh glass of wine for himself.
The waiter returned just then, placing the piping hot plate on the table. Louis picked up a fork to stab one of the pieces, but before he could take a bite, a loud commotion erupted downstairs.
Four burly, big-bellied men had surrounded a corner table where a lone woman was seated, trying to eat her meal in silence.
Louis furrowed his brows, staring intently through the crowd as a sense of familiarity struck him. He had definitely seen that woman somewhere before.
Suddenly, one of the burly men grabbed the bowl of vegetable soup the lady was eating from and violently threw it to the floor, shattering it into pieces. "Can’t you hear us? You need to pay the debts your father left behind!"
"He is dead, and I am not liable to pay for them," the woman replied, her voice remarkably calm despite the threat.
The man chuckled heavily, a repulsive sound, and lunged forward to grasp her wrist. But the moment his fingers clamped down, the woman swiftly pulled a sharp hairpin from her hair and thrust it directly toward his eye, stopping just millimeters from his pupil.
"Leave my hand," she hissed, "or you will die right here!"
"Please, don’t create a scene at my restaurant!" the owner pleaded, rushing over in a panic as people were already abandoning their tables to flee the commotion.
"We should help her," Maurice said, already rising to his feet. Louis nodded grimly, tossing a few coins onto the table to cover their payment before they both rushed downstairs.
The four men stepped back from the gleaming point of the hairpin, temporarily stunned. Taking advantage of their hesitation, the woman calmly placed a coin on the table, pulled her hood over her head, and walked out into the night.
But the moment she left the tavern’s light, the men slunk after her, quickly cornering her in a narrow, dark alley just down the street.
"I don’t know the man you’re talking about. He abandoned me when I was only four," the woman spat back, her voice tight with suppressed anger. "So, I won’t be paying a single coin of his debts."
The moment those words left her mouth, one of the men lunged from behind, viciously pulling her hair and shoving her hard against the stone wall. She hit her back with a dull thud, a gasp escaping her lips as she tightly gripped the sharp hairpin in her hand, waiting for the right moment to strike.
"We can make her pay through her body. Let’s just sell her to a brothel," the third man suggested, a sinister smile creeping across his face in the shadows. "A pretty thing like her will fetch at least a few silver coins. More than enough for our debts," he added, his eyes gleaming with greed.
The other three laughed, nodding in cruel agreement, when Louis’ voice suddenly rang clear through the dark alley.
"Don’t even dare to do that," Louis stated, stepping into the dim light. "Because you’ll find yourselves entering your graves before you even touch her again."
"And who the fuck are you?" one of them barked, laughing sinisterly before drawing a heavy dagger and throwing it straight at Louis’s chest.
Maurice lunged forward, violently pulling Louis out of the way just as the blade whizzed past and clattered uselessly against the stone ground. "Don’t speak where you’re not needed to," Maurice hissed, his eyes already locked on the thugs.
"Then go and teach them a lesson," Louis pronounced, his heart pounding furiously against his chest as he adjusted his coat. "Besides, I said those words on your behalf."
Maurice laughed softly and picked up the fallen dagger from the cobblestones. He walked forward, turning the blade expertly in his hand before wielding it out in front of him. "You better leave this woman," he said in a dead serious tone.
