by A. R. Rend
Picking up a single sugar cube, he dropped it into his cup and stirred it in quickly.
Quite nice, if I must say so. I’ll have to ask her where she got the tea itself. I’ll need to buy some.
This would go lovely with a pastry with a strawberry flavor.
Mim would love it.
Nodding his head, Phillip set the spoon down on his saucer. Lifting the cup he took another sip with a smile on his lips.
“Oh, wonderful!” Fend said, joining him just as he reached the bottom of his teacup. She was dressed in a long dress and a rather loose-looking blouse. It didn’t look bad on her, but she’d clearly dressed in a hurry. “Before we begin, I wanted you to look at this new tea-set I bought.
“It’s a sister set to the one right there, but in gold. I’ve heard you’re quite the tea connoisseur and I’d love to get your opinion on it.”
“Of-” Phillip winced, his voice rasping unexpectedly. Clearing his throat, he grimaced. “My apologies, seems it went down the wrong pipe there. Of course I’d be delighted to see it.”
“Wonderful. Bring your cup,” said Fend, looking excited. “It’s right over there.”
Lifting her arm, Fend pointed to the room next to the parlor.
Sitting at the center of the room was a tea-caddy with a tea set resting on it.
Excited, and wondering if he could perhaps buy it from Fend, Phillip eagerly walked over to it.
“Delightful,” Fend said as she joined him.
“It does look rather exquis-” Phillip’s voice cut away from him once again. Wincing, he set his teacup on the saucer and reached up to rub his fingertips against his throat. It was like his throat was on fire now.
Coughing, he reached up and pulled at his collar with two fingers.
“Ah, it’s kicking in. Wonderful,” said Fend from behind him, followed by the sound of doors closing almost silently. “Don’t worry, it’s rather temporary. Just… makes it really hard to speak.”
Realizing he’d made a mistake, Phillip spun toward the nearest exit and started running for it.
Only for his knees to give out from under him as something struck him upside the head, his teacup tumbling from his hand and bouncing off the heavily carpeted floor and rolling away. The spoon he’d used to stir in his sugar clunked to the ground.
“I did tell you that it would be a mistake,” said Fend as she rolled Phillip over onto his back. “Oh, it looks like the other little surprise I put in there is kicking in, too.”
Fend reached down and grabbed at Phillip’s rapidly stiffening member.
“I had to put in a rather large dose of both to make this happen so quickly,” Fend apologized, starting to strip Phillip of his clothes.
His hands came up to fight her away, his cries coming out as wretched croaking.
Slapping his hands to one side, Fend laughed and then jerked his pants down to his ankles.
“Stop it. This’ll be quick, then I’ll hand you off to your guards. That you suddenly fainted and I did all I could to help,” said Fend. “And even if you tell anyone what happened, no one will believe you. My word versus yours.”
Groaning, Phillip turned his head to the side even as Fend worked at her dress.
Damnit. Damnit all.
Spotting the spoon, Phillip glared at it with a hot anger.
A spoon. That fits. That’s about how useful I am as well.
Fend squatted down over his hips and sat herself down on him. He could feel her privates against his lower stomach.
“Right, here we go. But first, a little kissy-kissy. You’re so pretty,” Fend said in a dark tone.
In the next instant she was on him, kissing him roughly.
Clenching his hands into the carpet, Phillip wasn’t sure what to do with himself.
Without meaning to, his hand found the spoon.
Not thinking about it, he flipped the spoon around to the rear of it. Throwing his left arm around Fend’s neck he pulled her in closer, not wanting her to squirm away.
Moaning, Fend was completely unaware of what he was doing otherwise.
Gripping the spoon tightly, Phillip struck out. Stabbing the triangular butt of the spoon into Fend’s neck.
Then he pulled his arm back and did it again, and again, and again.
Fend apparently hadn’t realized what’d happened in the first strike. By the third though she was struggling to push away from Phillip.
Who hung onto her, kissed her, and continued to ram the spoon home.
Over, and over, and over. His mind lost in a haze. His thoughts slowly floating away from him as he continued to get hotter and hotter.
To the point that it felt like the top of his head was being pulled open.
Everything became a blur to him, even as he punched the spoon home several more times into Fend’s neck.
Twenty-Two
“Phillip?” asked a concerned voice.
Groggily, Phillip managed to get his eyelids to respond and open partially.
Everything felt hazy and like the room was spinning.
“Waaaaaahhh?” he asked, his brain feeling like it was sliding toward one side of his skull. Only to rapidly move back to the other side.
“You’re okay,” said the same voice.
He was pretty sure it was Mildred, but it had a strange faint echo behind it.
There was also the stink and horrible taste of vomit in his mouth. Taking a shuddering breath, he realized it wasn’t just in his mouth. The stink was also on him and around him.
And the smell of blood. A lot of blood.
“You’re okay,” Mildred said in a soothing voice. “I got you back to the house rolled up in a rug. You… threw up at some point.
“I need to get you washed up. I already got rid of the rug and your clothes are burning right now.”
Burning?
Lifting his head up, Phillip glanced down at himself and found he was still quite nude. Blood and vomit were spread across his torso and stomach in equal measure.
All the way down to his knees in fact.
His member was also at attention and proudly pointing right at Mildred. It was also covered in blood.
Fend… bled a lot.
And everywhere.
Groaning, Phillip let his head rest back on the ground.
“Oooay,” he mumbled, though Mildred was already picking him up, his acceptance assumed rather than actually being given.
Carrying him in front of herself in what those terrible romance novels would call a “prince carry”, Phillip was brought into his personal washroom.
“We heard a muffled yell. Tonie, Bobbie, and I went in. Vinnie and Frankie watched the door,” Mildred explained, starting to lay him down inside the filled wooden tub. The interior linen had been hastily pulled to one side.
Ugh, splinters and-
Phillip’s mind locked up as his skin hit the cold water.
“It’s old water from your bath this morning. This needs to be done now. There’s no time to wait for hot water,” apologized Mildred as he settled into the tub completely. She pulled up a washcloth over the side of it and began to scrub at him immediately. “We found Fend dying on top of you by the time we got to you. You hit everything important, by the way. She was little better than a corpse, she just wasn’t dead yet.”
Opening his eyes, Phillip stared up at Mildred as she scrubbed and washed at him. Her hands firm and unyielding.
“Everyone else stayed there. They were going to report the death after coming to relay your request to meet with Fend,” continued Mildred. “Finding the door open, and the corpse inside.
“Which meant I had to get you back here, cleaned up, and ready to meet with anyone who comes calling.”
That all makes sense but… it puts my guards in a delicate position.
They could be blamed for this.
“Why use a spoon when they had actual weapons,” answered Mildred, plucking the thought from his mind. “If anything, you’re still the most likely culp
rit. Especially given that your mutual dislike for each other was known.”
Which is why she’s cleaning me.
“Sorry,” Mildred said, and then began scrubbing at his erect self. Shaking her head, she looked unnerved and amused at the same time. “Not exactly how I imagined touching it for the first time.”
Her hand closed down tight around him, the wash cloth dragging over him several times.
Then she pulled her hand back and inspected him.
Phillip did so as well.
Still ferociously erect.
But no longer covered in blood.
Closing his eyes, Phillip couldn’t keep his thoughts together very well. He did feel like he was doing better since he woke up, however.
“Can’t believe she’d do something so damn risky,” muttered Mildred. “She’d clearly been expecting something like this.”
Or she’s done it before and had it on hand.
“Okay. Hold on,” said Mildred, rolling him to one side. She started to scrub down his back now, her firm callused fingers digging into his flesh.
“Thank you, Milly,” croaked Phillip.
Grunting, she continued her work.
It was stupid to put myself in such a position.
Stupid!
I knew she wasn’t a friend but I willingly sought her out on her own territory, let her be alone with me.
Foolish. Stupidly foolish.
Never again.
“Okay, time to get dressed,” Mildred said, causing Phillip to open his eyes.
She was watching him with a frown. Her eyes had the unmistakable quality of being annoyed to them.
“Whatever,” she said and then reached in and picked Phillip up. “I’ll just change as well. Better that they think I’ve seduced you than you’ve murdered someone.”
Phillip couldn’t argue with that.
He wanted to say it was self-defense, but he knew that didn’t matter. All that mattered was how many friends Fend had, and if they were part of the sheriff and her team of constables.
If they were, it wouldn’t matter if Phillip was defending himself or not. Convicting him of the death of Fend would merely be a question of when, not if.
Taking him back to his bedroom, she laid him out on the rug near his bed.
“Letting you air dry for a second while I dump the water and change my clothes, I’ll be back with a towel,” Mildred said and then left.
Staring up at the ceiling, there was little Phillip could do. Or wanted to do.
At the moment, he could at least control his fingers and toes when he tried. Things were coming back to him.
Mildred was blessedly gentle yet swift in getting him dressed. She’d changed herself into clothes he didn’t see her in often. Clothes that Lenore or Alice were far more likely to wear.
Faster than he thought, she had him put to rights and sitting on his couch. As if he were here the entire time and being rather bored.
By the time she’d managed it, he could keep himself upright to a degree as well.
“I was shtupid,” muttered Phillip, his tongue mostly behaving inside his mouth.
“No, you just didn’t think she’d do something so wrong,” countered Mildred. “To be fair, I didn’t think she would either. It’s why we agreed to let you do what you wanted.”
Shaking his head a little, Phillip disagreed with her.
He knew better.
His father had warned him often that putting himself in those kind of situations, with people he didn’t know, was asking for trouble.
Regardless of whether or not he liked the state of the world, Phillip had to know how to live in it. He’d done something that his father would have cautioned him against.
Now he’d murdered someone who attacked him, and would likely be questioned sometime soon.
“I give it an hour,” Mildred murmured from right next to him. She’d taken up a seat on the couch as well.
Gently, she reached out and patted him on the back with one hand.
“Just… stick to the story. We’ve been here since the morning. Waiting on Fend to respond to your request,” Mildred coached him.
Nodding his head, Phillip could only wait.
***
Phillip wasn’t quite sure what he expected to happen.
The sheriff was the queen’s justice. An agent specifically assigned to the city to organize the law, arrest offenders, and hold them for judges to rule over.
Those of the actual nobility were afforded queen’s justice, and would require a formal complaint sent to the queen. The nobility were often laws unto themselves upon their own lands.
Technically, Phillip was of the nobility. He was also removed from it, and a married son that wouldn’t inherit.
It put him in a legal grey area that the sheriff likely wouldn’t want to push too hard into. One never knew if the nobility behind said husband would get involved.
And in the case of his mother, and grandmother, Phillip was probably a very dangerous suspect to question.
Even then, the sheriff did arrive.
It took her far longer than he expected to show up, though. An entire hour in fact, before the sheriff came to visit him. Along with several of her constables, all looking rather nervous at being in the Rias household.
They were all dressed up in what was likely their best outfits. Though the sheriff was wearing some type of uniform.
Phillip had been able to recover most of his faculties and thinking by this point.
That allowed him to receive them in the formal receiving hall and room. Having so much time, he’d even taken the time to prepare a tea service for himself and Mildred and talk with her for a time by themselves.
Despite the situation that’d occurred, that Phillip had just killed someone, he was thankful to have some alone time with Mildred. She was always a constant source of strength and resolution to and for him.
“Good morning, Mr. Rias,” said the woman at the front of the group. “My name is Sheriff Halis.”
“And what can I do for you, Sheriff?” Phillip asked, not having gotten up from his seat on the couch. Mildred was sitting next to him in a recliner. “You’ll forgive me for not bothering with pleasantries but I have a rather full day ahead of me.”
All of the Rias household servants were going about their business. Or resting in their rooms and enjoying the break.
Phillip being the only actual family member in the home meant they didn’t have that much work to complete.
Looking to be in her thirties, with brown hair, and warm brown eyes, the sheriff looked like someone confident. Confident in their ability, their power, and their status.
Except Phillip could tell she was nervous. That she wasn’t sure of the situation and didn’t quite feel as secure as she made herself look.
“Mistress Fend has been slain. Your guards were at her home,” said the sheriff.
“Slain? She’s dead?” Phillip asked, doing his best to look surprised. Then he deliberately shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sorry for her family, though she and I had no love for one another. I admit I don’t feel any actual regret at her passing.
“Though you mentioned my guards, but they’ve yet to return. Where are they? They were only supposed to go inform Fend that I’d like to have a meeting with her today.”
The sheriff looked rather surprised at his words. Her eyebrows raised up and her mouth forming a partial O.
“They’re… being held right now down at jail,” the sheriff said slowly. “In connection with the death of mistress Fend.”
“Well, you can release them,” Phillip said with a wave of his hand. “Those four, and Mildred here, are all under the employ of my mother. The heir to the Duchy Curis. You’re welcome to write her if you feel my guards are under suspicion of murder.”
Having thought on the situation since the second he could get his mind to behave, Phillip had been wracking his mind. Trying to figure out all the possible ins and outs of the situation. How to dodge
what was likely going to be a murder investigation, and how to get his people clear of it, and himself, as quickly as possible.
Lying about who was paying them would be easy. His mother would back him up, as well.
“I… your mother?” asked the sheriff.
“Exactly. Unless you’d like to insert yourself in the queen’s justice?” Phillip asked with a sweet smile.
No sheriff would ever want to do such a thing. It was the very same reason Halis was having difficulties with Phillip.
“They’re-you’re not employing them,” Halis said, looking annoyed now.
“I am not. They’re officially paid by my mother. I assume you’re letting them go. Or… aren’t you? Should I be contacting the Countess?” Phillip asked, looking at the sheriff in surprise. “I would hate to engage the queen’s justice over such a trivial matter but… if I must.”
Shaking her head slowly, the sheriff realized she had no choice in the matter. While her position was certainly sound against the majority of the citizens, it was not true for the nobility.
“They’ll be released immediately,” said the sheriff with a bow of her head. “Would you be so kind as to accompany me to the jail for their release?”
“No, I won’t be so kind. You can release them on their own recognizance, thank you,” Phillip said with a wave of his hand. There was no way he was allowing Halis to get him into the jail.
Not for any reason.
Staring at Phillip, who stared back at her, Halis was slowly coming to the realization that she wasn’t going to get what she wanted here.
“I’d like to ask you about mistress Fend,” the sheriff said, changing the subject.
“She was a poisonous monster who wanted me to sleep with her for her support in selling product,” Phillip said without any sort of shame. He had no doubt that word would spread about what Fend wanted him to do at some point. It was easier if he said it up front now. If he was the point of origin. “I refused and that concluded our business. I sent my guards to speak with her today in a last-ditch effort to see if she could see reason.
“It seems perhaps I wasn’t the only one she was attempting to force into a compromising position. After all, if she was willing to try such a thing on myself, the grandson of the Duchess, husband to Alice Rias, then I can only imagine what she would do to commoners.”