Chapter 137: Chapter 122: Capoeira

“That’s a big word for your pretty little mouth,” Ravyn snarled.

Tristan held up a hand with a placid glance over his shoulder. “Treason?” he repeated.

A sharp smile quirked at the corners of Celestia’s lips. “Holding an island’s man hostage. Forcing him from his duties.” She gestured to Ara and Ceres. “The same may be said for these two young women.”

Tristan shook his head. “They weren’t holding me hostage, Celestia. I went with them on my own.”

“Oh? Is that so?” The smile widened. “I have it on good authority that both you and Ara were taken against your will.” Celestia withdrew a bundle of papers from a nearby stack of items and spread them along the table’s surface. “A young woman named Esmerelda confirmed for me that these particular scrolls contained a magic that would allow you to cast [Impersonate Soul]. I say ‘contained,’ as the insignia required for the cast is missing—a sign that they have been used.”

Shit. I hadn’t thought that leaving the spent scrolls behind would mean anything. Ravyn’s harsh glare in my direction said otherwise.

“Two were found in Destiny and Lara’s residence, and two more in Tristan’s room. Also in Tristan’s room was this empty bottle.” Celestia shifted the glass bottle from the pile to the middle of the papers. “Esmerelda was kind enough to test the remaining contents. A [Trance] potion, it would seem.”

Ravyn’s searing glare on me intensified.

I swallowed against the building lump in my throat. I must have left the empty bottle on the bookshelf and didn’t consider it. I’d been too focused on getting the damn stuff into Tristan.

“Now, tell me, if you left of your own accord, why were such items necessary?” Celestia withdrew her hands and folded them against her apron.

Tristan took a deep breath. Another flash of lightning and crack of thunder sounded behind the Head Mistress, and Cannoli’s fingers wound into mine. Keke’s scowl never left the girls flanking Celestia. Ravyn’s never left mine.

“They didn’t have a choice. They had to make it look like a kidnapping,” Tristan said slowly. “Matt was sent to find me by San Island’s man.”

“Who has deep connections with the queen, might I add,” Ravyn growled, finally turning her attention away from me.

“Ah, yes. The San Island girl. I should have expected you’d be behind this,” Celestia growled.

“Listen here, bitch—”

I touched Ravyn’s wrist and shook my head. We won’t be the ones to force this fight.

She snatched it away from me, her frown deepening.

“The young Master continued to do his secondary duty of protecting Shi Island, Madame Celestia. Your negligence to relay the current state of disarray in the other cities speaks volumes,” Ara said evenly.

Celestia clicked her tongue. “Ara, I am most disappointed in you, young lady. A fine example of Venicia’s values and an immediate informant of mine. Aiding and abetting this filthy group of traitors—” 

“Enough, Celestia,” Tristan snapped. “Ara has done nothing but argue for Venicia and your methodology. You have no right to speak to her—or any of my companions—this way.”

“Young Master—” Celestia began.

“No, you said we have the floor. Let’s talk about your transgressions for a minute.” Tristan stood from his chair. He leaned against the table with one hand and ticked off Celestia’s sins with the other. “Hiding me away inside of the school and deciding who was ‘good enough’ to bear children. Stealing my [Cat Pack] and using the Bells from the resolved quests as you saw fit. Masking my presence to Matt and his party when he arrived. Ignoring the needs of the other cities on Shi Island, like Sorentina, Catania, and Anyona.”

Celestia’s jaw worked, and when Tristan finished, she quietly asked, “May I?”

Tristan opened his hand and gestured for her to speak.

“Three other men arrived on this island before you and died before they could even begin their duties. Keeping you safe and out of the clutches of Defiled, Encroachers, and those who would wish you harm was my top priority.” The ice in her words slid down my back. I shivered. “Your ‘stolen’ Bells went to the other cities to repair the damages of the growing Defiled threat. Anyona had already fallen by the time I took over as Headmistress, and Catania was close behind.”

“It is as she says,” the girl to her right added. “Catania was my home.”

“Then why the blatant discrimination between cities, Madame Celestia? You reap and sow competition between those from Venicia and girls from outside,” Ara asked.

Celestia’s nose rose into the air. “Competition breeds perfection, Ara. Do we not strive to be the crème de la crème of the island? Those who offer perfect Service, Grace, and Urgency?”

Wonder where she picked up that saying.

The Headmistress sneered. “You have seen the state of the island. Are those the girls you want to see coupled with the young Master?”

“That is not for you to choose,” Ceres said as Ara flushed with rage.

“We are all equal in Saoirse’s eyes,” Cannoli whispered quietly beside me.

Ceres continued, “With all due respect, Headmistress, you act as if Tristan is incapable of thinking for himself. I was a graduate of the school before I moved on to train as a [Magic Knight] in Sorentina. While what I learned here was invaluable, to say that others are undeserving of his time is incorrect.”

“Tristan is well-read, articulate, clever, and artistic,” Ara snapped when Ceres had finished. “You’ve treated him like a kitten. I am absolutely certain that he’s perfectly capable of distributing his Bells accordingly to the other cities. He has done more work to bring this island together in a month than you have in years.”

Tristan dropped his head, but not fast enough that I didn’t catch the red blooming on his cheeks.

You are reading story Everyone’s a Catgirl! at novel35.com

“And yet, you wish to take him from his home,” Celestia replied. “Pray tell, how will he help his island if he is absent?”

My turn to speak up. “No one said we’re taking him permanently. It’s a temporary thing. All four men are going to meet and come up with a plan for our islands. This way, we can help each other out.”

“Then what shall we do in the meantime, hm?” Celestia’s fingers balled into her palms. “Cause panic amongst the girls when I announce that you are gone? Your Bells have sustained Venicia and Shi Island’s cities for three years now. Your defection will cause a collapse.”

“Nani? You should have pulled hundreds of thousands of Bells from this boy, and you’re saying there’s not a single one left?” Ravyn snarled.

Celestia’s lips pulled into a thin line. “I am not incompetent, nor a spendthrift.”

“Then how much is left?” Tristan asked.

Celestia hesitated, then admitted, “Enough to maintain the current status quo for a year.” 

“This won’t take a year, Celestia,” I replied.

“Besides, if you open better lines of communication with the neighboring cities and allow Venicia girls to help begin rebuilding, you can re-establish trade with the other islands to bring in more money,” Tristan suggested.

Celestia’s eyes darted to Ravyn. “And allow her like to stand on our hallowed ground?”

It was Ara’s turn to stand. She slammed her hands on the table and barked, “And allow all girls from all islands to stand on your hallowed ground.”

Their eyes locked, and the room went still. Another lightning strike crossed the window, and Cannoli squeaked, stepping closer to me. The rain pattered against the roof while everyone focused on Celestia. 

“What are your thoughts, Young Master?” Celestia asked Tristan, venom dripping from her tongue.

“I agree with Ara. Use the able hands here to help rebuild other cities. Send more apt fighters to Sorentina to help fight back the Defiled threat. Open up the island for trade again. To everyone,” Tristan punctuated every word. “And bring us Lynn.”

The last request seemed to catch Celestia off guard. She blinked, touched one braid in thought, then regained her composure. “My apologies. You wish to take more of Venicia’s citizens away from the island?”

“You understand that she’s my sister. Where is she?” Ara growled.

“I am very well aware,” Celestia countered, then looked to the girls at the door. “However, before I do, in what timeframe can I expect Tristan’s return?”

As long as it takes. I wanted to say, but it didn’t seem like the best option.

“No more than three months,” Keke said, speaking for the first time in the meeting. “It took us a month to navigate Shi, and we don’t know what awaits us on Ichi. You have to give us time.”

“Oh? Do I?”

Honestly, I never want to make Tristan come back here. I hadn’t wanted to play the threat card, but shit, she was being difficult. I imagined a few words to Cailu, and she’d be done. “Yes. You do. Or I can return with an order from the queen and let her decide what to do with you after you’re summoned to Nyarlothep.”

Celestia’s confidence deflated, and her shoulders fell. She didn't stand a chance against three men and a summons from the queen. “That will not be necessary.”

“Then three months. Maybe sooner. For now, we need to see Lynn,” Tristan said.

“As you wish.” Celestia bowed and strolled from the end of the table to an incredibly detailed oil painting of the School of Etiquette. 

With a quick hand signal, Felsi and Misery removed the large frame from the wall, and Celestia slid her hand down the peeling wallpaper. She paused about halfway down where the painting had been, then dug her nails into the paper and pulled open a slim door that could barely fit one person between its frame. It was impossible to see when closed, especially with the artwork hanging over it.

This can’t be good.

Misery disappeared into the dark room, and Ara followed on her heels. Keke went for one of the candles on the table, but Cannoli put a hand on her arm.

“Let me help,” Cannoli whispered. She padded across the room and summoned her staff. “[Illuminate],” she murmured, then passed the scepter to Ara.

Ara gasped, and the sound of sharp metal exiting its sheathe rang above the rain.

“Ara, wait!” Tristan called.

I pushed past Celestia’s other lackeys and peered through the door. There were no windows, no light sources. Three slender forms lay on their backs on the floor, each wearing short, thin gowns that looked like prison attire. The color had drained from their skin, and bruises pocked their arms, legs, and faces. 

Destiny, Lara, and Lynn were barely recognizable. They were wounded and emaciated.

Not one of them moved as Ara screamed her sister’s name.