Masquerade {A Penderry's Bizzare Fanfic}《COMPLETED ✔️》

•Chapter Twenty-Two•

"Our weapons? Why are they in the bushes?" asked Blaire as she was being handed her sword, the hold and overall feel of it was just as she remembered it to be from the first time she had held it.

"To keep them out of sight." Westman replied, placing his sword in the leather holster that was around his waist. "I wasn't going to risk losing the only items we have to fight Lacrime. I will finally get to see whether or not you are truly capable of handling a sword."

"Using a sword for me is like using a knife and fork." Blaire said, her finger moving across the sharper end of the blade. "I know which places to strike, which places are the best to hit and which ones aren't. I began training to use weaponry at the age of ten, so I am more than definitely experienced."

From the sounds of it, Blaire didn't have a childhood most privileged little girls had. Instead of playing with dolls and learning feminine skills, she chose weapons as her toys and books as her way of her learning. How many more times would she be able to amaze Westman with her femininity and masculinity?

"How are you with a rifle?" Westman questioned, wanting to see if there was more Penderry blood in her. If the curled hair, cherub face and stunning blue eyes didn't already prove that she descended from the Penderry's, then what else would?

"I can use one, though I am no were near as good at shooting as Ollie is." Blaire admitted, melee weapons had always been better for her. "Guns and bullets are his forte, swords and knives are mine. I don't envy him and he doesn't envy me. We may be related, but that doesn't mean we are exactly alike. We both succeed in our individual talents."

When she clicked her fingers, Blaire's outfit changed from a breathtaking azure dress to something that would be better suited for running in. A long sleeved white blouse with a frilled neckline and medium brown trousers with black riding boots. Her makeup was intact, and her hair was left in its natural wispy glory, ending at her behind.

"Finally. Now this is something I am more comfortable wearing. You don't mind, do you Freddie? Freddie?"

Westman's could feel heat rise to his cheeks, and after a few stutters cleared his throat. "N-no. No, of course not. You look ready for a brawl."

"Thank you." Blaire thanked, putting a dagger she had hidden into a holster that was tied around the top of her thigh. "Keep your eyes and ears open, look for anything suspicious, and for God's sake try not to make a scene."

"I will do my best." said Westman, offering his hand. If there was one thing Blaire needed, it was a hand to hold. "Come along."

Blaire took his hand, having no other option than to follow him. It occurred to her that Westman would know the gardens, so he would know which directions to take and what made a good hiding place.

Of course, Jim would know too.

I swear if he and Ollie try to scare us...

"I haven't seen Jim since we arrived." she said, trying to make things somewhat normal. "I hope he's all right."

"He'll be fine, i'm sure." Westman reassured Blaire as well as himself. "If I know Jim Penderry well, he is more than likely trying to take his mind off the curse by simply enjoying himself. That, or he is debating on whether to eat the chocolate eclairs or the cakes first. That man is more like his younger brother than he realises."

"Younger brother?" Blaire questioned before remembering. "You mean the one that died?"

"Yes. It's sad, honestly." Westman said, sorrow in his tone. "George had so much to live for, and his life was taken away from him at fourteen. Such a waste. I hope he is resting peacefully knowing that justice for his family will be served, though of course justice alone will never bring him back."