"Wait," Riku said, looking Marci in the eye.
Marci’s eyes narrowed into slits of cold fury. "Get out of my way."
The shimring portal behind Riku pulsed. Mistress Vexia continued her chant, eager to leave this disastrous place.
Riku did not move. He raised his hands slowly. It was a gesture of peace.
A shimr of dark energy enveloped him, removing his disguise. The nacing battle-mage armor dissolved. His features softened. He was no longer the imposing, disguised figure. He was just a young man in simple clothes, his expression filled with a quiet, sincere regret.
"I will not let you leave like this," Riku said. His voice was calm. It was devoid of the earlier anger.
"You have no right to stop us," Marci spat. Her voice trembled with rage, "Or, do you want to humiliate us more? We would rather die than get humiliated."
"You are right," Riku agreed. "I don’t have any right to stop you. But I have to ask you sothing first."
He ignored Lord Falco. He ignored Rudolf and the Emissary. His gaze was fixed only on Marci.
"Miss Marci," he asked, his voice gentle. "Who is the most important person in the world to you?"
The question was so out of place that it caught her completely off guard. "What?"
"Who is the most important person to you?" Riku repeated.
Marci stared at him, slightly confused at the sudden question. She furrowed her brows, but soon spoke with conviction.
"My father," she finally answered, her voice tight. "My father is the most important person to ."
"I see," Riku said, nodding slowly. "Then let ask you another question."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "If your father was taken from you? If he were held in a strange land by people you did not know? What would you do to get him back?"
Marci froze. Her mouth opened to retort, but no words ca out. The question struck a chord deep within her.
"Would you not travel to the ends of the earth?" Riku pressed, his voice still gentle. "Would you not face down any danger? Would you not deceive, or fight, or do whatever it took to bring him ho safely?"
He looked from her to Rennan. "Rennan is that person to . He is my friend. He is my family."
Marci’s gaze snapped from Riku to Rennan. The hurt and anger in her eyes were now mixed with a desperate confusion.
"Is it true?" she asked Rennan, her voice trembling. "Is what he says true? Are you his... family?"
Rennan stepped forward slowly. He t her gaze with one of quiet sadness. "Yes, Young Miss. It is true."
"But why?" Marci demanded, her voice rising. "Why them? My father gave you riches. He protected you! What does this... this hovel... have that my father’s house does not?"
"Your father’s kindness was a gilded cage, Young Miss," Rennan replied, his voice still gentle, but firm. "He gave comfort, yes. But he took my freedom. Here, I am busy and many tis overworked, but I am ho."
Marci laughed. It was a broken, bitter sound. "Ho." She spat the word like poison.
Riku took a slow step forward. "I am sorry, Miss Marci," he said, and his voice was filled with a genuine sincerity that tried to douse her anger. "I am not sorry for rescuing my friend. But I am sorry for this."
He gestured to her tear-streaked face. "I am sorry for the pain my actions have caused you. You showed kindness. You trusted . And in return, I showed you a side of the world that broke that trust. For that, I was wrong."
His apology hung in the air. It was not an excuse. It was an admission.
Marci was speechless. Her mind reeled. This was not what she expected. She had prepared for a fight. She had prepared for more threats. She had not prepared for empathy.
Rudolf and the Violet Emissary watched the scene unfold, their expressions a mixture of shock and profound respect. They had not expected this powerful man to talk to soone who attacked him with such a tone.
Vexia, seeing the conflict on her young mistress’s face, let her teleportation spell fizzle out. The shimring portal collapsed into nothingness.
Marci looked at her father, who was now sitting up, staring at Riku with a new, unreadable expression. She looked at Rennan, who was watching her with sad, understanding eyes. Then she looked back at Riku.
The cold, hard shell she had built around her heart had a crack in it. A tiny, hairline fracture.
She did not know what to say, nor did she know what to feel. The world, which had seed so simple a mont ago—a world of strength and cruelty—was suddenly very, very complicated again.
Marci stared at Riku. The cold, hard shell she had built around her heart had a crack in it. But the anger was still there. It was mixed with a deep, painful confusion.
"You talk of family," she said, her voice still trembling. "But you hurt my father. He is lying on the ground because of you."
Riku’s expression was patient. He did not deny it. Instead, he gestured towards the other side of the field. "Look over there, Miss Marci."
Everyone’s gaze followed his hand. Barou was now on his feet. Lila was fussing over him, however he waved her away. He looked angry and his clothes were burnt, but he was standing.
He was fine.
"Your father’s attack was ant to show force, not to kill," Riku said calmly. "He struck a man down to make a point. And now that man is standing again."
He then looked at Lord Falco, who was still sitting on the ground, looking stunned. "And look at your father. I did not strike him with malice. I only disard him. He is unhard."
Marci looked at Barou. Then she looked at her father. She saw the truth in Riku’s words. Her father was humiliated, but he was not injured.
"This was never a fight to the death," Riku continued, his voice soft. "It was a conflict born of misunderstanding. And pride."
He looked directly at Lord Falco. "You are angry because you believe I stole sothing precious from you. And you are right. I did."
Falco looked up, trying to make sense of what Riku was saying.
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