Chapter 110 (Tigris)

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TW: Gore, death, and violence

Tigris had the worst maid of all time. This observation was purely factual, Tigris surmised despite the boiling rage she felt, as she had to blindly tug on her own trousers and flowy blouse while pinning up her hair with one hand. She was out of practice with the movements after years of Roche's assistance, which was expected. Where the hell was her maid?

She certainly wasn't where she was supposed to be, which was by Tigris' side. When the guards knocked on her doors in the middle of the night, stating that the king had summoned her, Tigris had expected Roche to come barrelling into her room a few moments later. But a quarter hour had passed and the bumbling woman hadn't showed up.

Tigris stormed out of her chambers, looking like an absolute wreck as she was escorted down the halls of the castle. A myriad of bustling maids, servants, knights, and nobles that were swarming the corridors. Her anger quickly burned out for worry as she was led into the courtyard.

Leinos was standing amongst a swarm of knights and maids, barking out orders.

"I need fresh water, now!" Leinos barked loudly, his voice stern and commanding, starkly different from its usual gentle cadence. "Someone get some blankets as well. Verita, hand me the rosemary tincture."

Tigris realised why everyone was so panicked in a matter of moments. The courtyard was a mess of torn flesh, jagged shards of bone, and rapidly petrifying knights. There were several concerned nobles and civilians who were watching the gruesome scene with naked horror.

Finn and Kai came skidding out of the castle doors, quickly followed by Aodh.

The king was standing behind Verita with a pale expression of barely concealed alarm. The librarian was kneeling in the gore, her gloved hands pawing through a mutilated lump of bloody, pulsating flesh with purely analytical eyes. Tigris realised, with nauseating clarity, that the man being held together by the librarian and physician's hands was still barely alive. So were his companions. The edges of their wounds were turning grey, turning to stone right before the crowd's very eyes.

Tigris' gorge rose, and she choked as she slowly recognized the mangled faces amongst the mess.

The king looked up at the sound, pale and slightly green, and met Tigris' eyes across the courtyard. He schooled his features quickly, nodding to her with a silent order. It took every ounce of Tigris' royal training to control herself enough to bellow,

"Secure the perimeter!"

The knights who had been drawn outside by the commotion jumped to attention, by instinct more than genuine willpower. Their eyes were glazed with disgust, and vomit slicked the ground by some of their feet, but Tigris had trained them with a warrior's focus. They'd obey her commands if she gave them even if they were half dead.

"Gather the witnesses, bring them to the north end of the castle for questioning. No one can be allowed in and out of the courtyard. Thirtieth battalion sub in for the fifteenth, continue patrol duties with heightened alert status." Tigris continued, relieved when her voice remained steady. She turned to Aodh, whose jaw had dropped open and was watching with a squeamish expression. She'd seen that face once before, when he was ten and had chugged a gallon of expired milk for a bet with a knight. She knew what would follow.

"Prince Aodh!" Tigris snapped, feeling a hint of relief when Aodh was jarred by the title. She jerked her chin towards the rushing knights, "Oversee the knights, would you? Find a few that can help Leinos."

Aodh nodded jerkily. Tigris stepped forward, slapping his cheek until his eyes focused. Aodh shook head, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and gratitude.

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