BLOODY LOVE'S
Episode 187's

Charles Hastings was about the same age as Marco. Her hair was also all whitened, but cut short and was always oiled and combed back. A smile always stuck to his lips, but his eyes never smiled.

Although the news of Marco's disappearance has been disputed directly by Edgar and clarified, it did not stop Charles' movement. Marco's disappearance was only a reason used by him to gather influential people in one place and persuade them to switch factions. He had indeed guessed that Edgar would surely rush to come, because it was sent people to Jorm to bring the masses.

If there was chaos in Bjork, Edgar would definitely go back there and he would have more time lobbying the leaders of the trade alliance and influential nobles. But somehow Edgar did not move. The man remained at Aston and Charles received no further word from his emissary.

They fail. Charles immediately guessed. Before Edgar's arrival, he could have influenced some, though most were still loyal to Argent.

Fools, thought Charles. He sure could turn everyone's heart if Edgar hadn't come that fast. As if everything wasn't bad enough, Jacob now appears at Aston. One Argent alone was already troublesome, let alone two.

"They are approaching us" whispered Arthur Spencer by his side. The two of them had just finished meeting with some of the Venetian trade leaders and convinced him to switch factions—or at least pretend not to see when they entrust other merchandise to their caravans. But those people did not want to answer before knowing exactly how Marco was.

Marco was just an impotent old man who was alone in a cursed city, but they all didn't even dare to eat without asking him for permission just yet! Charles clutched his metal stick, piling half his body weight there. "We see what they want" he said without looking. He noticed how Argent's father and son were approaching them. Edgar looked relaxed as usual, but Jacob was not. Charles remembered that the man was the most temperamental of Argent's children. He tilted his head slightly, whispering back to Spencer, "Go back to the restaurant, have people look down. Reassure them that Marco is dead, so his nephew will come from Delton."

Spencer concluded a smile. "You gotta make him mad, Hastings. Very angry, or it will be difficult for me to make a convincing narrative."

Charles laughed a little. "Look at my demonstration. One punch on the cheek. That's all I need to make them know that the Peace and Stability that Argent has stood for is broken. And it must be enough for you to convince them that the one who controls it is no more."

Spencer smiled vilely, then touched the tip of his hat as a salute and turned back into the restaurant.

"Welcome, Jacob," said Charles as Edgar and Jacob and his wife arrived. They stand by the side of a big road. Some people turned to steal a look at them, but no one dared to stare blatantly. "Sunny morning, eh? Want to have breakfast in Covent?" He stretched his hands to the side, to the restaurant that was a meter behind him. "Now it's a bit full because it's already at this hour, but I think there's still some empty space. Near the toilet."

Edgar smiled. "We won't take your place, Hastings. We're not that rough."

Charles laughed kindly. "Honestly, I never expected the gentleness of an Argent." His eyes turned to Jacob. "Hello son, long time no see. When did you get to Aston? Last night? How's Delton doing?"

"Why ask about my arrival?" reply Jacob rough. "Will I need your permission first?" He took a step closer, stopping half a meter in front of Charles. His smile is thin. "For info only, I did not depart from Delton but from Bjork."

Charles narrowed his eyes. Worth it, he thought. My people must have been wiped out by him. But he couldn't have tracked her down to me. He's just guessing, luckily. I just keep the look on my face.

"I heard Marco disappeared," Charles began. "I'm ber—“

"Marquis is fine," cut Jacob sharply. "Someone kidnapped him, but he managed to escape. Now he's home, in Bjork. Last night Uncle must have called one by one his friends to give word."

"Ah. I'm so sorry to hear that. Is he hurt?"

"No injuries mean anything, so I understand that you're sad."

Charles swallowed. So for this the two Argent came to greet him early in the morning, to show off the news that Marco survived. He did not doubt Jacob's testimony. Charles knew capturing Marco wouldn't be easy. He should not have entrusted the castle guard to Robert. The problem is, there is no one else he can rely on in Bjork. His cousin is too reckless and would rather get drunk than think.

"You're misunderstanding" Charles said. "My point is, I'm sorry for the unpleasant experience you've had."

Edgar raised both eyebrows. "Oh, you seem to know very well what any experience is."

"Just guess." Charles grimacing. "Whatever the reason behind it, in fact Marco was lost—that he was indeed found. Well, but as I recall until yesterday you still insisted that he never left Bjork."

"My brother didn't leave Bjork." Edgar laughing. "After turning over every grass and stone in Bjork, we found it. You know what he was doing when our worker picked him up? He slaughtered the people who held him."

"Did Hastings really like to pretend to be stupid like this Dad?" jacob asked in a plain tone, but there was no innocence to the look in his eyes. "Or is he not pretending? Though he must know why you had to hide about Uncle's kidnapping. Of course to prevent the idiots of Jorm from taking advantage of the moment and attacking our home."

"I don't understand what you've been saying since, '" Charles said calmly, still convinced that he was safe. As long as there was no evidence, all they could do was suspect and accuse. There'll be nothing they can say.

"You know, that's why you're busy kissing the shoes of aristocrats in Aston." Jacob smiled mockingly. "As if it could shake their loyalty."

"There is no such thing as loyalty in business, son," Charles said in a fatherly tone. "There is only interest."

"And different interests can it be equated with licking people's buttocks?" reply Jacob astonished. "Enjoyful lesson. But I won't be so desperate as to apply a lesson from you."

Some hikers and people around began to stop their activities occasionally to watch. There was clearly an aura of contention visible in everyone's eyes.

Charles glanced at Jacob's hand, calculating the moment. His heart beat too hard in the chest. "Your sons are really exactly Marco" he said casually to Edgar. He took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

There's no taste. He was too tense to taste anything. The smoke pours upward, all looking up to look at the second floor window of Covent.

Spencer nodded at her from there as soon as they met eyes.

Charles turned his face back to the front. The cigarette butt is tucked between two right fingers. "Their faces and traits are exactly Marco," he continued lightly as he chatted with an old friend. "And I bet it's not just me who thinks so. Everyone thinks the same, especially every look at Jose. He was exactly with Marco when he was young. Like a betel in two." Charles licked his dry lips, glancing back at the rapier hilt poking out from behind Jacob's black coat. Now his eyes moved on Edgar who was still putting on the face of the plate. He hated the man's calm. "The first child and the last child, hmmm," he mumbled softly. "You're sure it's all your seeds?"

Edgar did not seem to be affected. He did not even stare at Jacob clenching his hands beside him and tightening his jaws. "Your provocation won't work, Hastings."

"Oh yeah? My province may not. But what about Marco's provocation to Renata?" He's snapped. The tip of his cigarette he used to point at Edgar. "Because of that, is he able to be single until the bangkotan? A man can't possibly last long without a woman's touch— unless he's impotent, of course. But he's not handicapped? So the conclusion is just ... Marco does not need another woman because every night he can go up to the bed sister-in-law—"

"Jake!" Edgar called out in time. Rapier was already unsheathed in a sweet metallic desing. Sunlight flashed on his blade, reflecting the glittering light on the road. Its sharp end stopped intermittently in front of Charles Hastings' rising and falling junks. "Down your rapier, Jake," Edgar asked slowly. He glanced at Olivia, asking her to come along. The woman did not move, her eyes looking back at Edgar with resignation.

"Do it" Charles challenged. The cigarette butts have fallen into the street. "Just do it, move your sword. Let's see whose blood will first be spilled."

The people around them started to stop and gather in the distance to stare at them blatantly, whispering to each other while gesturing. Jacob put his rapier back into the scabbard, then turned away without saying anything. Everyone pulled over to make way.

Edgar caught up with him quickly. "One day" he said slowly. "One day I'll kill him. But not now."

Jacob still didn't say anything. His lips were tightly clenched in anger. Olivia walks by her side, squeezing her fingers gently to strengthen, but Jacob brushes over. His blood is still boiling. He does not want to be in contact with other humans.

Other than Argent's distinctive black hair and eyes, there was no other resemblance of him and Jose with Edgar, Jacob knew that. Even Juan and Jeffrey inherited Renata's face. But Jacob also knows that they look more like Garland Argent, their long-dead grandfather, than Marco. They have often discussed this as a child while looking through a collection of family photo boxes and paintings.

Everyone knows that a child does not always look exactly like his or her parents; it could look like his or her grandparents, grandmothers, uncles, or aunts without any affair involved. Charles's accusation is nothing new. It was the typical banter of his uncle's haters. He also knew that Charles deliberately overestimated their resemblance and provoked it for a specific purpose.

Jacob hated himself for knowing that it was a trap, he still stepped there. He shouldn't have done that. His arrival to Aston was to help his father, not even troublesome.

Jacob took a deep breath, inhaling as much morning air as he could to calm himself down. He really wanted to make the face of Charles Hastings drenched in blood for insulting them.

No matter if their opponents were demons, monsters, or humans, Jacob vowed to finish off all those who opposed them at Aston.

***