Helena looked up at Arthur.
Her face was still flushed, fingers still curled into the front of her uniform, breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a question.
Arthur didn't look at her his eyes laser on Damien.
"You alright?" he asked quietly.
Helena blinked, her mouth opening and closing, not sure what to say. Never did she think that the kid she took a chance on by letting him join the club would save her like this..
"If you ever need someone in your corner." He finally glanced down at her, his grey eyes meeting hers, voice even. "The offer stands."
"What?" Before she can process what he means he helps her up by letting her stand on her own two feet. Placed behind him her puts himself between her and Damien.
Damien's expression had gone very still. His jaw clenched, the tendons in his neck taut. His fingers twitched at his side, essence flickering at the edges of his knuckles, his bloodline threatening to slip its leash.
'Why isn't he inferring…' Arthur can't help but ask as he side eyes Silus the president who is still by the podium watching the whole situation play out.
'Maybe he can't do anything either. I don't know who his family is but something tells me it's something else.' Arthur turned back to Damien just in time to see the composure finally crack.
Damien lunged forward, fist coiling back and flooding with mana. No elegance, no technique, just raw, ugly rage. The playboy performance went like the wind leaving only a boy full of rage. Arthur had gotten under his skin.
'There it is.'
Arthur sidestepped the strike with ease, spinning around Damien's flank, his wand already in hand and humming with mana, angled like a knife.
'I'll just blame it on the heat of battle!'
He struck forward, aiming to dig the tip deep into Damien's shoulder, but just as the blow was about to land, his body locked.
"Enough."
Clam and collected a voice rings out, and like chains holding his body Arthur is stuck frozen. Looming over he sees with a hand stretched out Silus having now decided to intervene stops Arthur, his Bloodline used in force. It's Aura pressing down on Arthur with unquestionably hostility.
'Ah he's on their payroll.' Arthur laughs in his mind knowing nothing would have gone his way with those around him bought out.
"I want to see no more fighting happening in my club. If you are to fight, do it elsewhere. I will not have my club sullied by such barbaric means."
"Well of course Mr. President." Arthur drops his mana along his wand bowing slightly in apologetic nature.
"Typical bootlicker." Damien spat as he too backed off, though he made sure to grab Helena by the wrist. Not one to let her go now.
"How dare you touch my woman. Now I'll have to wash her just to make sure the very touch of you is gone." Damien pulled Helena along, dragging her away from Arthur as if he were plague.
Helena flinched as she was dragged along her eyes looking down as if accepting there was nothing she or anyone could do. But just as the reach the door her eyes look across the room meeting Arthur.
One emotion shines through.
Hope.
The door shut.
Room 207 sat in silence, the echo of it settling like dust after a collapse.
Silus lowered his hand, his aura pulling back into himself like a receding tide. He straightened his collar, exhaled once through his nose, and turned back to the podium as if the last five minutes hadn't happened.
"Everyone, back to what we were doing. Ignore the interruption."
A few members exchanged glances. Slowly, reluctantly, heads turned back to workstations. Papers shuffled. Many tried to just ignore what happened as there is nothing they can do to help Helena as Damien is the heir to a Marquess family.
'Guess I need to get my plans moving. Damien's sure to try something soon and next time it won't be just a tantrum..'
Snap.
Arthur glanced to his left where he saw the pen that Brandon was holding had snapped in two his fist contorted. His jaw clenched as he stared at the door Helena walked through.
"Arthur." Brandon's voice was low, controlled. He stood, wiping the ink on his trousers without looking at it. "We need to talk."
The look he gave Arthur was one that showed he wasn't playing.
Brandon pulled Arthur to the far corner of the room, putting his back to the other members. His voice came out in a harsh whisper.
"This. This is why I didn't want you to join the club." Brandon jabbed a finger at him. "I knew Damien hates lowlifes, and you're the biggest one of them all among nobles. A Webb, sitting in the same room as his fiancée? Of course he was going to pick on you." He ran a hand through his hair, agitation leaking through. "And of course you already knew him. And of course you went and got him mad."
Arthur opened his mouth but Brandon cut him off.
"Do you know what he's going to do to Helena now?" Brandon's voice dropped, something raw cracking through the anger. "He's going to force himself on her. Treat her like his plaything. Before — before he at least held himself back because she's stronger than people think. But that bastard is almost Mid Silver as a second year. His cultivation is climbing fast and his bloodline does the rest for him."
Brandon's fist tightened, ink still staining his knuckles.
"If his combat skills were half as good as his cultivation and bloodline, he'd be at least rank ten in his year. But the bitch can't even hold a candle to the bottom hundred in a real fight. He doesn't need to. He's never had to." Brandon looked at Arthur, his expression caught between fury and something closer to helplessness. "And now you've gone and poked him."
"I understand, Brandon." Arthur's voice was steady, unbothered. "I know Damien all too well. That's why I have a plan to help Helena."
Brandon stared at him, a vein popping on his forehead.
"Do you?" Brandon's voice cracked low. Then it rose. "Do you have a plan? Because to me it looks like you're just using Helena to get at Damien!"
His hand shot out and grabbed Arthur by the collar, lifting him up. A few heads turned from across the room but quickly looked away no one wanted to be involved in anything else tonight.
"Let me go, Brandon."
"Answer me first." Brandon's grip tightened, his voice shaking. "Why shouldn't I kick you out of the club myself right now?"
"Because I'm the only one who can do it."
"Do what?" Brandon tightened his grip.
"Stand up to Damien." Arthur's voice didn't waver. "Look around this room, Brandon. Every person in here watched him grope Helena and not a single one moved. You know why? Because they've all got something to lose. A name. A reputation. A future his family can crush with a letter."
Arthur met his eyes.
"I don't have any of that. I'm a Webb, our name's already in the dirt. What more can he take or say to me that hasn't already been done. And besides," a dry smile crept across his face, "it's in my best interest to fuck over that two-faced bitch."
Brandon stared at Arthur, his anger in his eyes still there, but the grip on Arthur's collar loosened.
"I don't like it. Not one bit. But if what you say is true and you hold your word that you'll protect her. Then... then maybe I can let you stay."
Brandon released his collar and stepped back, running a hand over his face.
Arthur straightened his uniform, smoothing the fabric where Brandon's fist had bunched it.
"I'll hold my word."
"You better." Brandon jabbed a finger at him. "Because I might not have the guts to go at a Marquess, but I've got more than enough to deal with a Baron."
Arthur almost laughed. Almost.
'Fair enough.'
Brandon turned and walked back to his workstation. He sat down, stared at the two halves of his broken pen for a moment, then quietly reached into his bag for another one. His hands were still shaking.
'Guess I need to get this amulet done sooner than I thought.'
Author Note: Patreon.com/Lord_Cuckles or search TabooQuill on Patreon.com.
P.S Sorry for no chapters recently I got sick, so I had to pick from doing this and schoolwork when it came to when I felt good...so yeah sorry about that... Just let me know if there I can make it up to you.