Gunmage
Chapter 111: He shouldn’t be here

Chapter 111: Chapter 111: He shouldn’t be here

The paper was gone.

The one in which he had written the message for Isolde.

Lugh had entrusted it to the now-deceased rat. It was supposed to deliver it, before getting attacked by that infernal cat.

What was it called again? Pouncealot?

Regardless, the letter should have still been there. Lugh had searched everywhere. Nothing.

Someone must’ve picked it up.

But who?

His name had been on that letter.

"Who is Lugh?"

Edrin’s voice cut through the silence.

No one answered.

"Didn’t you hear me?"

His tone sharpened, aggressive now.

"Who is Lugh?"

He turned toward the boy.

"Who are you?"

The boy looked too good. Inhumanly so. His presence felt... wrong. Chilling in a way that made the air feel thinner, heavier.

His eyes, cold and unnatural, seemed to look through people rather than at them.

Yet he bore the flaxen hair the family held in high regard. And in those sharp, painting-like features, Edrin could see a shadow of his brother.

Isolde, after a moment of measured silence, finally spoke.

"Lugh is my son."

Edrin’s eyes widened.

Lugh glanced at her briefly, his gaze hiding an unfathomable darkness.

A storm of thoughts surged through Edrin’s mind.

’Isolde had a son?’

No, that couldn’t be. It didn’t make sense.

The trouble she had gone through, the whispers, the ridicule, the strain on her marriage, the risk to her mystical standing over her "failure" to bear a male heir...

There was no reason for her to hide a son.

She had nothing to gain from it.

She must be lying.

"You’re lying"

He said aloud, voice sharp but oddly flat, like a blade dulled by contempt.

"No"

Isolde began, a tension creeping into her tone.

"Technically, I’m not lying."

She hesitated.

"He is my son. My... step-son."

’Step?’

Realization bloomed on Edrin’s face. Then came the laughter.

"Hahahahaha!"

"So my brother was pretending, was he? Couldn’t wait for a son of his own so he snuck one in early."

Isolde’s brow twitched. Her jaw clenched, fists balled tightly at her sides. She kept her tone even.

"No."

"Hm?"

Edrin was clearly enjoying himself now.

"No"

She repeated, firmer this time.

"He already had someone. Before he married me."

Her voice sounded almost detached, but the anguish was plain to anyone looking closely.

The way her shoulders tensed, the way her fingernails dug into her palms.

Selaphiel and Mirelle exchanged glances, their gazes drifting toward their mother with quiet concern.

They didn’t fully understand, but they could imagine. It was something that could have happened to them too.

Edrin, unbothered, pressed on with venomous amusement.

"Oh really? Had someone before the marriage? What a player. And who was she?"

"I don’t think we should be talking about this"

Isolde said tightly.

"Who was she?"

He repeated, his voice icy now.

Isolde bit her lip. Her voice was barely audible.

"She was a maid."

"A maid, huh?"

Edrin’s grin widened, eyes gleaming with cruel delight.

"Alright then... Nu?"

"It’s Lugh"

Isolde corrected sharply.

"Yeah, yeah. Lugh."

He turned to her, smile evaporating.

"Why is he here?"

Isolde blinked, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I meant to say..."

He cleared his throat.

"...Why is he still here? Alive?"

The chill that filled the room didn’t come from the night air. It came from behind them, from Lugh.

Something stirred at the back of their necks. A tension that told them they were in the presence of serious danger.

Isolde, heart pounding, tried to smooth things over.

"Why wouldn’t he be? He’s just a child, he never asked for—"

Her voice faltered and faded. She heard herself speak... and a cold realisation washed over her.

A sharp pang of guilt hit, then just as quickly, she pushed it aside.

"A child?"

Edrin sneered.

"Since when does that mean anything?"

He took a step forward, voice full of disdain.

"Isolde, I’m very disappointed in you. You couldn’t eliminate such a simple problem?"

The cold deepened.

The kind of cold that didn’t freeze the skin, but crushed the soul. Still, Edrin was too smug, too self-absorbed to notice.

"Let me break it down for you"

He began, his words dripping like poison.

"He is a bastard. A stain on our family’s honor. His very existence is a sin. And yet, you harbor him? Keep him hidden like some shameful relic?"

The chill spiked, suffocating, nearly paralyzing. The women in the room didn’t know what was coming, only that it would be terrible.

Then, without warning... the pressure vanished.

Gone. Like mist evaporating before dawn.

In its place, Lugh stepped forward, calm and unbothered.

The letter was gone, and would surely cause a fresh storm in due time. But for now, he had to deliver the message himself.

"What?"

Isolde asked, startled by his sudden approach.

Lugh met her eyes, his voice low and flat.

"There are enemy operatives hidden among your guards and servants."

Her eyes narrowed.

"They plan on killing Edrin"

He said simply.

"What—!"

Her voice hitched in alarm.

"The kitchen is likely their point of entry. But don’t neglect the others."

Isolde stared at him, questions clawing up her throat. But the most pressing one escaped first

"How did you find out?"

Lugh paused, calculating the most believable answer.

"I overheard two guards talking about it. That’s why I came out, I intended to tell you."

"Oh... I see"

Her voice was tinged with skepticism, but her face softened slightly.

"Can you identify the guards?"

"I can"

Lugh replied.

"...But I won’t."

"What? Why not?"

"It’s better not to alert them"

He said calmly.

"Let them think they’re still hidden."

She didn’t like that. She didn’t trust it. But she couldn’t force it either. Not right now.

In reality, the truth was far more disturbing than Lugh let on.

The letter had vanished too quickly. No trail. No noise. Not even a mistake.

This wasn’t random.

If she stirred the waters now, whatever was lurking would only dive deeper into the dark. It would be unseen, unheard, and far more dangerous.

"I’ll be going now"

He said, turning on his heel.

A voice stopped him cold.

It belonged to Edrin

"Where do you think you’re going?"