The clacking of boots echoed through the dimly lit corridor as Captain Farling strode forward with purpose. She halted before a door, her sharp ears picking up the unmistakable sound of someone gagging within. Knocking firmly, she called out, "My Lord, may I enter?"
"Enter, Captain Farling," came the reply.
With confirmation given, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Moving further into the chamber, she was met with a sight that might have unsettled a lesser officer, but she remained unfazed. Seated before her was Marquis Raven, his fingers tangled in the brunette's hair as she knelt between his legs. The wet sounds of gagging and slurping filled the air, yet Captain Farling simply observed the scene with detached professionalism.
"My Lord, it is time to prepare. We must leave within the hour," she announced.
The Marquis glanced at her before shifting his attention downward, his grip tightening momentarily. "It seems we will have to continue this upon my return," he murmured. With a final, forceful push, the woman choked, her eyes rolling back as foam gathered at the corners of her mouth. Only then did he release her, lifting her head and allowing her to cough and gasp for breath.
Unbothered by her state, the Marquis rose to his feet, his arousal still evident, and made his way to the shower chamber. Without another word, he disappeared inside, closing the door behind him, and leaving the brunette still struggling to regain composure.
Captain Farling observed the woman for a moment before stepping over and lifting her onto the sofa where the Marquis had been seated. With that task done, she turned and exited the room, heading toward the city gate.
On her way, she passed through the citadel's main hall, where Vice Captain James was making his way toward the exit. Upon spotting her, he smiled and greeted her warmly.
"It's lovely to see you again, Captain Farling."
She met his gaze with a knowing look. "Still as frivolously flirtatious as ever, I see, Vice Captain James."
"I prefer to think of it as part of my charm," James quipped, falling into step beside her.
"I bet you do," she retorted dryly. Then, shifting the conversation, she added, "I must admit, I can sense the improvement in your Force training. You are far stronger than when we last sparred."
"Naturally," James replied with a self-assured sway in his step. "After all, I wish to challenge you once more. And this time, I intend to win for what I stand to gain is something I truly desire."
At his words, Captain Farling's expression darkened. "That damned promise I made while drunk… I must say, after that day, I haven't touched another drop of alcohol. I refuse to let history repeat itself."
Sensing the shift in mood, James quickly sought an exit from the conversation. "In any case, I wish you and your Lord success in battle. I have other matters to attend to." Without waiting for a reply, he hastily took his leave, disappearing down the corridor.
Captain Farling exhaled sharply before continuing on her way. Upon reaching the city gate, she was met with the sight of soldiers rallying, tents erected in neat formations. As she approached, two soldiers emerged from the crowd, walking alongside her.
"Preparations are nearly complete, Captain. We'll be ready to move out soon," one reported.
"Excellent. Ensure the tents are secured as instructed. We'll be stationed here for some time once the battle concludes," she commanded.
"Understood, Captain," they responded in unison before hurrying off to carry out her orders.
Meanwhile, Back in the Marquis' Chambers…
Marquis Raven emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist while another was used to dry his damp hair. His gaze flicked to the sofa, where the brunette had fallen asleep, her body curled against the armrest.
Approaching her, he scooped her up effortlessly and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. Once satisfied, he moved to his closet and dressed swiftly. With preparations complete, he stepped out of his chambers, making his way toward the encampment.
As he walked, a voice called out to him.
"Marcel"
Turning, he found Kael approaching. "Yes, Kael?"
Stopping just before him, Kael asked, "Are you sure you don't need reinforcements?"
Marcel waved off his concern with a dismissive gesture. "I assure you, my current numbers are more than sufficient to deal with that bore of a man."
Kael studied him for a moment before exhaling through his nose. "Alright then… To victory." He extended his fist.
"To victory," Marcel echoed, meeting the gesture with his own before continuing on his path.
Kael, on the other hand, ascended one floor higher, pausing by a large window that overlooked the city gates. His eyes trailed over the military encampment, watching as soldiers formed orderly lines and began moving out. He remained still, observing until the last of them disappeared beyond the gates.
A quiet sigh left his lips.
"Is something the matter, my Lord?"
I turned to see Thorpe, walking beside me.
"Not particularly," I admitted. "It's just… I can't shake this unease. I don't want what happened to me to happen to Marcel."
Thorpe hummed in thought. "If Lord Raven were to be turned… he'd be far worse than you ever were."
I let out a humorless chuckle. "Oh, without question. He would become an unrelenting demon."
Thorpe nodded in agreement.
"In any case," I continued, stretching slightly, "I'll be heading to the catacombs now. Sunrise isn't far off."
Thorpe inclined his head. "See you in the evening, my Lord."
With that, I turned and disappeared into the darkened halls, leaving behind only the lingering weight of what I hope are useless concerns.