Tyrant? No, I am the Villain
Chapter 34: An annoying guest

Chapter 34: An annoying guest

Estefan sat calmly on the couch, his legs crossed, a hand loosely draped around the cup of freshly brewed coffee resting on the teapoy beside him. Next to it sat a tray stacked with sugar-glazed cookies, their scent barely masking the bitterness of the roasted beans he sipped.

Galliard stood nearby with a composed face, though his fingers twitched with subtle unease. No one in the palace knew who this mysterious guest was but only that Estefan had scheduled the meeting himself.

"I wonder who it is." Estefan murmured as he took a sip of the coffee in his hand.

Galliard blinked in confusion. He doesn’t know? he thought. If even Estefan wasn’t sure who would walk through those palace gates, then this meeting was either a gamble... or a trap.

Just then, the heavy sound of a carriage rolling to a stop echoed through the outer hall. The grand doors swung open and a procession entered.

Leading them was a striking figure, face painted with layers of makeup with powdered cheeks, glossed lips and thick-lined eyes. Robes of violet silk clung to the individual’s slender form, and every movement carried the poise of someone who knew how to dance with power. Behind them stood three rows of four women, each holding a large, intricately carved chest that shimmered under the palace light.

The figure bowed low, then announced, "My name is Ratragunda, envoy of the Violet Matriarch of Lutis."

Galliard’s mouth slightly parted. Ratragunda... He leaned closer to Estefan’s right ear and whispered urgently, "My lord, are you sure this is your informant? That is Ratragunda, the second in command of the Matriarch herself. A dangerous criminal who has done a lot of dirty work for Lutis."

Estefan nodded slightly but remained unfazed. "Calm down." He replied calmly. "I told you we’d have guests, not just a guest."

Realization struck Galliard. This was just one of several expected arrivals. The real informant had yet to appear.

Estefan shifted his attention to Ratragunda. "I hope you’re not here to bribe me with money and flattery." He said with a faint smirk.

Ratragunda chuckled, hiding his mouth behind the long flowing sleeve of his robe. "Your grace is humorous." He said. "But no, we wouldn’t dare disrespect the House of Angeras. These are merely gifts as sweet cuisine of Rammstein, a humble celebration of your arrival."

At that cue, the women behind him lowered their boxes and opened them in unison. Rows of delicately prepared pastries, sweetmeats and specialty cuisine native to Rammstein shimmered like jewels. They were exquisite and expensive for the common men to easily afford.

Estefan gave them a passing glance before speaking. "Still bribery, you are a criminal representative offering tribute to the ruling authority of this city. It may be sweets, but food has value and this is still a form of bribery."

"You are wise, my lord." Ratragunda agreed with a playful tilt of his head. "If we were truly attempting to bribe you, we would have brought better offerings... perhaps the finest women in the country and if your tastes are broad then we even have men who could make you forget the gods themselves."

Estefan narrowed his eyes. "What would I do with women or men gifted by criminals? That’s worse than a box of rotten coins."

"They would help you... relax." Ratragunda cooed. "Our establishments offer pleasures no one else can replicate."

"Pleasure?" Estefan scoffed. "I find more satisfaction watching my enemies bleed. That’s the only joy worth savoring in a world like this."

Unbothered, Ratragunda leaned in slightly, voice syrupy. "If your grace ever desires, our doors remain open. We have the best bodies, the softest voices-"

"If I ever walk into your brothels, only bloodshed will occur there." Estefan interrupted coldly.

There was a brief pause and then Ratragunda’s gaze lowered, slowly trailing over Estefan’s body from his boots to his chest, lingering far too long at his lower torso. "I can imagine." He whispered with an amused smile. "You seem like the type to destroy everything... just with your presence."

Estefan’s fingers curled ever so slightly. "Keep staring and I’ll pluck your eyes out."

Another airy chuckle followed, the kind that mocked, evaded, and flirted all at once. "I apologize. It’s difficult not to appreciate someone so... delectable."

Even Galliard’s face twisted in visible disgust, but Ratragunda pressed on, finally getting to business. "We, at Lutis, seek only peace. We heal wounds, soften hearts and bring pleasure to those who suffer. We do not wish to be seen as enemies."

Estefan leaned back slowly, his posture casual but his tone razor sharp. "I’m not the type who spares his enemies just because they kneel. If you, your Matriarch or your organization hurt this city again, I won’t forgive it."

The smile on Ratragunda’s face waned ever so slightly but Estefan continued. "You are not my enemy yet. But you are close and the day you cross that line, I promise you’ll see what despair truly looks like depending on if I were to change my mind."

Ratragunda’s tone changed as the playfulness vanished. "Changing your mind on what, exactly?"

"On letting you live." Estefan said with deadpan finality. "I won’t just erase you. I’ll bury you and your entire faction of criminals will drown in its own perfume and blood."

The palace grew still as even the air dared not breathe too loud. Ratragunda’s body stiffened for a moment. Then he smiled once more but there was a crack in the mask. "It’s a shame you didn’t accept our hospitality."

"Try harder next time." Estefan replied. "Though I doubt there will be one since all of your lifes are hanging on a thread which I can cut with ease."

"I shall relay your message to our Matriarch." Ratragunda said with less ceremony. "But know that our lives belong to her and no man, not even you, can take them."

Estefan leaned forward, elbows on knees, staring directly into Ratragunda’s painted eyes. "That’s what every weakling says before they die, their belief in their so-called superior strength. You think you have a chance to even survive against my wrath?"

He stood up, the steel in his voice sharp enough to wound. "Keep poking. You’ll see what happens when that thread snaps."

This time, Ratragunda didn’t reply. For the first time, the flamboyant second-in-command felt a chill crawl down his spine. Estefan’s face held no hatred. No rage. Only cold resolve.

It was the face of a man who meant what he said and that... was terrifying even for a hardcore experienced criminal to hear.

[To be Continued]