the Villainess they took for granted

Chapter 277: v3 Chapter 38: a way forward II

Lorenz studied the man standing before him.

He looked almost exactly as he had in the Arena.

His hair was still a tangled mess, thick and unruly enough to resemble a bird’s nest.

His face was almost completely covered in hair.

The beard had grown long along his jaw and chin, blending into the rest of the unkempt hair around his face until he looked less like a man who had spent years among civilization and more like someone who had been dragged out of the wilderness.

A caveman.

A disturbingly convincing one.

Lorenz’s eyes moved over him once more.

At least he didn’t smell.

That was something.

The Arena fighters were not exactly known for refined grooming, but Carlo, despite his appearance, was apparently capable of maintaining a tolerable level of hygiene.

Lorenz almost wondered whether the appearance was deliberate.

Perhaps the man had chosen to look this way.

Perhaps the beard and hair had been allowed to grow because they made him harder to recognize.

If he truly came from the Empire, concealing his identity would have been sensible.

Lorenz leaned back slightly.

”Who are you?”

He spoke in Imperial.

The effect was immediate.

The man’s eyes changed.

Not much.

Just enough.

He had understood.

And when he answered, he did so in the same language.

”Who I am now is no longer of importance.”

His Imperial was flawless.

Not merely understandable.

Refined.

Lorenz’s gaze sharpened.

The man continued.

”What matters is what I can do.”

Interesting.

He had expected hesitation.

Perhaps denial.

Instead, the man had answered the question without truly answering it.

Lorenz studied him.

”Then tell me.”

His eyes remained fixed on the man.

”Why are you here?”

Cassian remained still.

He had understood the question.

Not the Arena.

The man was asking why an Imperial had ended up in Milicia.

Why he was here instead of in his own country.

Cassian studied him before answering.

Now that he was closer, the man’s appearance was even more telling.

He looked young.

Younger than Cassian had expected.

His auburn hair was neatly kept, his green eyes calm and observant. His clothes were understated, but there was nothing ordinary about the way they were made or worn.

Everything about him spoke of money.

Not the loud kind.

The kind that had never needed to announce itself.

Even seated, his posture was controlled.

His shoulders were relaxed, his movements refined, and there was an ease to him that Cassian had seen before in men accustomed to being obeyed.

Someone important.

Far more important than Cassian had initially assumed.

But the most telling thing was not his appearance.

It was the language.

Imperial.

He had spoken it fluently enough that Cassian could tell he had not learned it casually.

A man did not acquire a foreign language like that without reason.

It required tutors.

Time.

Resources.

And access to people who could teach him properly.

Cassian had no idea who this man was.

But he knew one thing.

He was far from ordinary.

”Because of circumstances.”

The man’s eyes remained on him.

”Someone wanted me dead.”

A pause.

”Or, at the very least, wanted me gone from the Empire.”

Cassian’s voice remained even.

”I know who it was.”

The man said nothing.

”I was supposed to disappear.”

Cassian looked down briefly.

”But I survived.”

He continued.

”I was injured and unconscious when I was found. I don’t know who found me.”

A faint tightening appeared around his mouth.

”When I woke, I was already among slaves being transported for sale.”

The man’s expression remained attentive.

”I was purchased.”

Cassian paused.

”Then I was brought here.”

He gestured faintly toward the walls surrounding them.

”And that is how I ended up in the Arena.”

Silence followed.

The man studied him for several seconds.

Then he asked,

”Do you know why he wanted you dead?”

Cassian was quiet for a moment.

Then, almost reluctantly, he answered,

”You might find the reason somewhat surprising.”

The man’s expression remained attentive.

”It was because of a woman.”

One of his eyebrows lifted.

Cassian continued.

”I was supposed to marry her.”

A pause.

”Apparently, the man who wanted me dead loved her as well.”

The man’s expression shifted.

”And she chose you.”

”Yes.”

”And so he wanted you dead.”

”Yes.”

There was a brief silence.

Cassian himself found the entire explanation almost absurd when spoken aloud.

After everything that had happened—the fall, the slavery, the Arena, twenty-one months of blood and death—

It had all begun with something as simple as two men loving the same woman.

The man before him stared at him.

Then his mouth twitched.

”You?”

Cassian’s brow furrowed.

”Yes.”

Lorenz’s eyes moved over Carlo again, as though reconsidering the matter.

Then he glanced toward Marcus.

For the briefest moment, there was something dangerously close to laughter in his eyes.

Marcus caught it immediately.

His expression remained perfectly neutral.

But one slight movement of his head made his meaning clear.

Don’t.

Lorenz looked away.

He composed himself.

Barely.

He could not help wondering what sort of man the other suitor had been.

Perhaps the man was hideously ugly.

Perhaps he was twice Carlo’s size.

Perhaps he had some other unfortunate quality that made the whole story less astonishing.

Because looking at Carlo now—

Lorenz found it difficult to imagine a woman choosing him over another man who had apparently possessed enough power to have him killed.

And yet she had.

Apparently.

”She chose you?”

Cassian’s expression tightened.

”She did.”

”Over him?”

”Yes.”

Lorenz looked at him again.

Then briefly toward Marcus.

Marcus gave him another warning look.

Lorenz cleared his throat.

”Remarkable.”

Cassian’s expression tightened slightly.

He was beginning to suspect that the man found his circumstances far more amusing than he should.

Lorenz finally settled back into seriousness.

”Very well.”

His gaze sharpened.

”Let us assume all of that is true.”

Cassian waited.

”Let us assume I believe you.”

A pause.

”Then explain something else.”

The amusement vanished from Lorenz’s expression.

”Why did you show me that?”

His voice was calm now.

”You hid your ability throughout your time in the Arena.”

Cassian said nothing.

”Then, when you fought Marcus, you changed your stance.”

Lorenz leaned forward slightly.

”You knew someone was watching.”

A beat.

”You knew it was not a death match.”

His eyes remained fixed on Cassian.

”So why reveal yourself?”

He paused.

”Why did you choose to show me what you could really do?”

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Tbc