Chapter 538 - Mulciber Citadel Ⅲ

Lost in her own thoughts, Meredith did not rise from her bed and lock the door to her bedchambers as per usual and failed to hear the sound of arrogant footsteps approaching down the hall. Without any manners or warning, the door swings open to reveal the golden-haired figure of her second born, Damian Mulciber. With a terrible smile he leans against the doorway and says, "Why mother how utterly forgetful of you to not lock the door."

Meredith's hands hidden beneath the bedsheets clench terribly together in fear at hearing her second-born's words. Doing her best to hide her fear, she hides it under her usual unease. With a weary, exasperated sigh, she says, "And just what is it that you need Damian?"

Damian sneers as he walks over to her bedside and says, "Who visited you this afternoon, mother? And do not dare lie to me for I saw Beat polluting the manor air, and not in the kitchens in its place."

Meredith clenches the bedsheets even more, but with great effort forces her voice not to give herself away with a quiver. "What guest?" She feigned innocence. "There was no guest, Damian. I merely requested that Beat clean the inner manor thoroughly once again as your father will be hosting guests later this evening." (Which was true and not a lie.)

Damian does not appear to be convinced but tries another method. With a ruthless grin, he turns away from his mother as if to leave, before pausing and saying over his shoulder. "Then I suppose that you won't mind if I have a chat with that mangy creature, right mother?"

Meredith merely closes her eyes as if tired and murmurs, "Do what you must, Damian, but your father will not be pleased if Beat is unable to perform his duties in front of his guests."

Damian snorts in disdain and is about to leave when Meredith mutters, "Take care, Damian for even a house elf can rebel against its masters."

Damian whirls around and stares at his mother through narrow slit eyes. "Is that a threat, you, miserable, old wretch?!"

"No," Meredith truthfully replied, "but do not forget, the elder brother of Beat was very cunning. He forced the hand of your father and tricked him earning his own freedom."

Damian flushes in humiliation and anger as he recalled the story. It was the greatest unspoken disgrace of the Mulciber family, but the house elf had earned its freedom. And worst of all, it still lived under the protection of the Prince household. It had been even more humiliating to learn of that fact during the Prince's summit for their serving and leading the wizards was the blasted creature!

"Whore, know your place!" Damian roared, before whirling away and slamming the door behind him. Further down the hallway, he grabs an expensive china case and throws it to the ground shattering it. He goes on a tirade until at last the entire expanse of the hallway has been destroyed to his satisfaction.

Panting Damian runs one of his hand's through his hair, before straightening out his cuff and jacket. ��Beat!" He shouted impatiently to only see the miserable creature appear.

Barely withholding himself from sending a flying kick at the disgusting thing, Damian gestured to the mess behind him. "Clean it up!" Before retreating to his bedroom to fume and think, before the guests arrived.

"Yes, young master," Beat groveled, before hurrying to magical piece the vases and other trashed items together before the guests of Mulciber arrive.

One by one the guests begin to arrive all males and their sons. It was a private gentlemen's gathering and only males would be allowed in attendance. Standing at the door greeting his guests is Mulciber Sr. and his son, Damian. And since it was an only wizard gathering, Meredith Mulciber was not present in attendance.

Mulciber nods his head at the blond, pasty white figure with broad shoulders, and a flabby stomach, Livus Rowle. Following close behind Livus at his side is his son, Thorfinn, also a blond, and pasty white, however unlike his father still heavily muscled. There was a cruelty and impatient in his gaze as he rudely glanced around and sneered at some of those in attendance.

Following closely behind is the figure of Rosier Sr. The large, burly man is unable to hide the cold anger therein. The two wizards once friends ignore each other's existence as Rosier brushes into the Mulciber home without even a word to the host.

Shaking his head in exasperation from behind Rosier is the shorter, sharp witted figure of Nott Sr. "My apologies for Rosier's rudeness, Mulciber," Nott Sr. said.

"There is no need," Mulciber graciously lied. "We all know that ever since his son's passing away, he has never been the same."

"True enough," Nott Sr. mumbled, before gesturing to his son's. His eldest Dorian, and his youngest, Thaddeus. The men are slightly taller than their father, but not by much. However, they politely greet Mulciber, before entering the hallway.

The guests continue to arrive such as the Goyle's, Crabbe, and more until at last Damian perks up at seeing a familiar figure that of his once upon a time so called friend, Evan Avery. The more somber, and newly widowed young man approaches accompanied by the figure of his father, Avery Sr.

Stepping out to greet the Avery's before his father can, Damian bows deeply and says, "Welcome Avery's, and it is good to see you again, my friend. Might I take your son away, Mr. Avery and catch up on old times?"

"You may," Avery Sr. replied, but not without sending a warning glance at his son to take care.

Evan hides his reluctance as he bows to Mulciber Sr. before following after his once so-called friend, Damian Mulciber. As they walk down the hall, they greet others with brief head nods, before finding an empty corridor which to speak in. Out of earshot of the rest of the guests, Evan grimly says, "And just what is that you want, Damian? It certainly is not to catch on old times as I have been home for some time now."

Damian idly glances at his nails as he mutters, "Did you enjoy my belated wedding gift, Evan?"

Evan's face instantly becomes wary. "What gift?!"

"The Babylon candle, of course."

"There was no such gift, Damian."

"Are you so certain, Evan?"

Evan opens his mouth to speak as his eyes begin to bulge at a sudden realization, before he pales in horror. "You," Evan's voice trembled in rage. "It was you!" Before grabbing Damian by the collar and slamming into the hallway.

"Remove your hands off my person, this very instant, Evan," Damian dangerously said. "This is Mulciber Citadel and not Avery Hall. You would do well to remember that as I am in my full right to do so."

Evan forces his hand to remove his painful grip and take a step back as Damian smacks his hand away. "Don't ever touch me like that again, Evan! I won't be so kind next time."

"Kind?" Evan barked. "You killed my wife!"

"Truth be told I didn't have a preference," Damian snickered as he rubbed his reddened neck. "However, I must admit the drama was most delicious."

"Are you mad?" Evan said in blatant disbelief. "Why would you do such a thing?"

Damian flashed Evan a terrible grin. "You owed me, a Prince, and you failed to keep your end of the bargain, Evan. I thought that naturally a payment with interest was in order."

Evan's hand reaches for his wand at his waist, before forcing his hand away. Hiding his anger and pain through clenched teeth says, "Do not approach me, and my family again, Damian. I will abide by the rules of courtesy tonight, but I will not do so next time."

"Mm, is that all?" Damian muttered as if bored, but with a great deal of relish and enjoyment at seeing the pain on Evan's face. "I expected so much more out of you, Evan. At least some shouting or a screaming match to liven things up for a bit."

Evan trembles with barely suppressed anger, before replying in a frigid voice. "Don't forget yourself, Damian. I am an Avery, and unlike your father, my father has a larger circle of friends. And we have tied ourselves to several powerful households, which your family lacks. You would do well to remember that," before storming away back to his father.

Damian snarls after Evan's retreating figure and shames the vase at his side into smithereens. He had not revealed the truth of that summer night out of pure madness even if admittedly he did relish the opportunity to do so, but rather had done so in an attempt to force Evan's to break the law of courtesy. It had not worked, and now the Avery's position was unshakable in connection to the Prince's and the Shafiq family. He would just have to try harder next time, and if need be, he would go after Evan's heart, (his son).