The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 536: The Court mage and The Fire Queen
The question of who he was died in Eris’s throat, but the man, this mountain of a man in a threadbare tunic, did not miss the shape of it. He watched the realization flicker across her face with the quiet satisfaction of a scholar watching a complex formula resolve itself.
"Pardon my rudeness," he said, inclining his head with a courtly grace that felt jarring against his worn traveling clothes. It was the gesture of a man who had moved through throne rooms long before the current dynasty was even a whisper in the dark. "My name is Aldwin. I served under Emperor Soreth. Before I chose not to."
Eris went very still. The name Aldwin didn’t just ring a bell; it pulled a specific, leather-bound file from the archives of her memory. Months ago, in the early, frantic days of her arrival, she had spent her nights reading the history of Nevareth’s court—the names of those who stayed and the shadows of those who left.
Aldwin, the Court Mage. Teacher to the royal line. The man who had walked away from Soreth’s madness and disappeared into the wild. Official records had been conspicuously vague about the circumstances.
"The Aldwin," she said. It wasn’t a question; it was an assessment.
"The very one," he replied mildly.
She took him in again, her eyes narrowing as she re-evaluated the "old man" in front of her. This wasn’t just a hermit with a knack for weeds. This was a man who had seen the rot of the previous empire and survived its collapse.
"Why are you here?" she asked, her voice regaining its edge.
"Your husband wrote to me," Aldwin said, leaning back in the chair. "He said he needed my help."
"About Vetra," Eris guessed.
"No."
The confusion was brief, but visible. "Then what?"
Aldwin offered a small, infuriating smile. "Since the Emperor is not here to speak for himself, I find I cannot say. It seems the Emperor does not share everything with you."
The irritation flared in her chest, hot and sharp, but it settled as quickly as it had come. She checked for malice in his tone, for the typical patronizing sneer of a man holding a secret over a woman, but she found none. He was simply stating a fact. Soren kept secrets. It was his nature, his armor, and apparently, his way of managing her.
"How am I to trust that you are who you say you are?" Eris asked, shifting her tone to the measured, pleasant quality she used when she was most dangerous. "And not someone claiming to be a legend for the sake of access?"
Aldwin let out a short, genuine laugh. "Only a fool would lie in front of the Fire Queen herself. And if I meant you harm, I had several days while you were unconscious where I could have ended this story. I spent them grinding herbs instead, which I find considerably less interesting than harming people, but here we are."
Eris looked at the table... the stained pestle, the drying roots, the evidence of a vigil. "I am merely being cautious. I am a woman scorned by many after all."
"Yes," Aldwin said simply. "I’m aware. I’ve heard of several of them."
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable; it was the truce of two analytical minds recognizing a peer. But then, Aldwin’s expression shifted. The humor retreated, replaced by a focused, scholarly intensity.
"May I ask you something?" he said, leaning forward. His clear eyes were on her now, really on her, stripped of their mirth. "How did you manage it?"
"Manage what?"
"How did you carry such a heavy burden for so long?" Aldwin’s voice carried the weight of his uncounted years. "In all my time studying magic and its properties, I have never encountered such a phenomenon. A human being, carrying an ancient entity, bound by an ancient spell, kept trapped by the will of her bloodline and something else I cannot fully name... and surviving it. For as long as you have."
Eris felt the truth of his observation like a physical weight. "I would very much like to know that as well," she said, her voice dry.
Aldwin laughed again, this time with genuine delight. "Yes, I imagine you would. I have a great many more questions for you when you are better positioned to answer them. But first..."
He handed her a cup. It was warm, the steam carrying the green, pungent scent of the herbs from his table. "Drink. It will help your body remember how to function without fighting itself. It tastes of nothing, which I find is the most honest thing medicine can do."
She took a sip and grimaced. It was aggressively tasteless, a void of flavor that was more distracting than any bitterness. As she drank, Aldwin signaled to the door... two short knocks.
The door opened almost immediately. Aldric, Ryse, and Mira filed in with the frantic energy of people who had been hovering in the hallway for seventy-two hours.
Aldric was the first through, and for a split second, his composure cracked. The relief was visible, a sudden softening of his features before he reassembled himself into the iron-spined advisor the world knew. Ryse let out an audible exhale, and Mira, sweet, devoted Mira, simply burst into tears.
"I didn’t know you cared this much about me, Aldric," Eris teased, the instinct to needle him returning despite her exhaustion.
Aldric’s ears went that specific shade of pink that signaled he was being "gotten to." "I am merely concerned about what would happen to His Majesty if anything happened to you," he replied stiffly.
"Fair point," Eris conceded.
Mira was already at the bedside, her hands finding Eris’s and squeezing hard. "I was so frightened. I didn’t know if you would..." She couldn’t finish the sentence.
"I’m sorry," Eris said quietly, looking at all three of them. "For frightening you like that."
Ryse cleared his throat, the sound a man makes when he is declining to have a feeling. "We’re glad you’re awake, Your Majesty."
