Camilla gestured to Zade with her hand, signaling him to follow her quietly.
They crossed the street carefully, blending in with the moving crowds of rchants and shoppers. They reached the edge of the dark alley. They pressed their backs flat against the cold brick wall of the building, staying hidden in the shadows, just a few feet away from where the thugs had trapped Allen.
They stood perfectly still and listened closely to the conversation happening in the dark.
Allen was standing with his back pressed hard against the wall. His face was pale, drained of all its healthy color. His hands were shaking violently in front of his chest. He looked terrified.
"Please let go," Allen was begging the rough n. His voice was high, shaky, and full of panic. He did not sound like a proud noble; he sounded like a frightened child.
The thugs stepped closer. One of them raised a heavy wooden club, tapping it threateningly against the palm of his dirty hand.
Smack. Smack.
"You owe us, rich boy," one of the thugs growled harshly. "Bring out everything you have."
Allen swallowed hard. He started removing expensive items from his own body with frantic, desperate speed.
He pulled a shiny gold ring off his finger. He unclasped a silver pocket watch from his vest. He ripped a valuable, diamond-encrusted pin from the collar of his coat.
His hands were trembling so much that he almost dropped the jewelry into the mud.
He handed the expensive items over to the largest thug standing in front of him.
"Are these enough?" Allen pleaded, his voice breaking. He looked at the dirty n with wide, terrified eyes. "These are worth hundreds of gold coins! Please, just take them and let go!"
The largest thug took the shiny jewelry. He looked at the gold ring and the diamond pin. He tossed them carelessly up in the air and caught them, looking unimpressed.
"These are nice trinkets," the thug said, putting the items into his pocket. He looked back at Allen and smiled a cruel, ugly smile. "But they are not enough. We lost our boss. We lost our best tavern. We need a lot more money to leave this city safely."
Another thug stepped forward, holding a rusty dagger. He pointed the sharp blade directly at Allen’s chest.
"Aren’t you a mber of the Benson family?" the thug asked, a greedy glint appearing in his dark eyes. "The Bensons are the richest family in the kingdom. If we take you away and hide you, your family will pay a massive chest of gold to get you back alive."
The thugs looked at each other, grinning widely. Kidnapping a Benson noble was a dangerous ga, but the reward would make them rich for the rest of their lives.
Allen’s eyes widened in sheer horror. He pressed himself harder against the brick wall.
"No, no, please," Allen whispered frantically. "They won’t pay! You don’t understand!"
A third thug, a skinny man with greasy hair, suddenly laughed out loud. It was a harsh, mocking sound.
"Don’t you know?" the skinny thug corrected his friend loudly, pointing a finger at Allen’s pale face.
The skinny man looked at Allen with complete, disgust.
"He is not a real Benson," the skinny thug spat the words out. "He is an insignificant, illegitimate child from the current Duke’s family. His mother is Lady Adeline, but everyone knows his real mother was just so lowly servant. He has no real power. The old Duke only keeps him around out of pity."
The other thugs paused. They stared at Allen.
Then, they all threw their heads back and laughed loudly. It was a cruel, humiliating laughter that echoed in the narrow alley.
Allen closed his eyes tightly. A look of deep, sha and humiliation washed over his face. He bit his lower lip. The secret of his birth was the darkest, most painful sha of his entire life.
Hidden behind the brick wall, Camilla listened to the terrible insult.
Her eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"So that is the truth," Camilla thought to herself, the puzzle pieces finally snapping together in her mind.
She looked at Allen’s ashad face.
"He is an illegitimate child," her internal voice analyzed the situation. "That explains absolutely everything. That is exactly why Lady Adeline is so incredibly desperate to gain the old Duke’s favor because she has no son of her own. That is why she hates Damon so much, because Damon is the true, legitimate heir to the Benson fortune. And it explains why Allen is always so quiet and polite. He has no real standing in his own ho."
Camilla felt a very tiny spark of pity for Allen. Being an outcast in a noble family was a difficult life.
But her thoughts were quickly interrupted by the thugs.
The largest thug stopped laughing. He frowned deeply. He looked at Allen with a very angry, disappointed expression.
"So," the large thug spoke, stepping dangerously close to Allen and grabbing the front of his grey coat. "If we take him, are you saying they won’t pay ransom?"
"Not a single copper coin," the skinny thug confird, shaking his head. "The old Duke wouldn’t spend money on soone like him. The General wouldn’t even blink if this boy went missing. He is completely worthless to us."
The thugs glared at Allen. Their greedy hopes of a massive ransom were completely ruined.
"Well," the largest thug growled softly, tightening his grip on Allen’s expensive coat. "If we can’t sell him back to his family... then we will just take his fancy clothes, cut his throat, and leave him in the mud."
The thug raised his wooden club high into the air, preparing to bring it down violently onto Allen’s head.
Allen let out a soft whimper. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the painful darkness to take him.
Camilla stood in the shadows. She had heard enough.
She dropped her polite noblewoman act. Her face turned into a mask of cold, unfeeling, terrifying stone.
Camilla stepped smoothly and confidently out from behind the brick wall. She walked directly into the center of the dark alleyway. Her silk dress looked out of place in the dirty mud, but her presence was overwhelmingly dominant.
"It seems the last encounter didn’t teach all of you a lesson," Camilla spoke out loud.
Her voice was not loud. It was not shouting. But it was smooth, calm, and filled with a dark, chilling authority that instantly cut through the tension of the alley.
The thug holding the wooden club froze completely mid-air.
All of the rough, dangerous n stopped what they were doing. They slowly turned their heads. They looked toward the entrance of the alley.
They saw Camilla standing there. They saw Zade stepping out from the shadows, standing firmly right behind her to support her.
The thugs looked at her face. They looked at her hazel eyes. They looked at her red curly hair.
Then, a mind-shattering wave of terror hit them all at the exact sa ti.
Their mories flashed back. They rembered the dark back room of the Old Man’s Rye Tavern. They rembered the heavy wooden beam falling from the ceiling. They rembered their boss lying on the floor, bleeding from a dozen stab wounds, his face completely destroyed. They rembered the kitchen knife flying through the air and burying itself into their friend’s skull.
The small, beautiful woman standing in the dress was the exact sa demon who had slaughtered their gang without breaking a sweat.
The largest thug dropped his wooden club imdiately.
Clatter.
It hit the muddy ground.
All of them lost the color in their faces. Their eyes bulged out in sheer horror. They began to tremble violently.
"It is her," they gasped collectively, their voices joining together in a terrified, breathless whisper.
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