Chapter 42: Reaching Rosalind’s Residence

The sun had barely risen when Alaric and Lyra began their preparations to leave the Steele Mansion.

Alaric dressed in comfortable yet elegant clothing, his tunic and breeches made of a soft, supple leather that allowed for ease of movement while still maintaining a sense of style.

His boots were polished to a shine, and his cloak was a rich, deep blue, fastened at the neck with a silver brooch bearing the Steele family crest.

Lyra, on the other hand, dressed in clothing that was both practical and intimidating. She wore a pair of black leather pants that clung to her like a second skin, accentuating her long, muscular legs.

Her top was a tight-fitting leather corset that laced up the back, pushing her large breasts up and together, creating an impressive display of cleavage.

Over this, she wore a long, black leather coat that fell to her knees, the sleeves adorned with intricate silver embroidery that glinted in the sunlight.

The coat was cinched at the waist with a wide leather belt, from which hung a longsword, its hilt wrapped in black leather, its pommel a gleaming silver orb.

Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight braid, her ocean blue eyes sharp and focused. She looked every inch the warrior queen, her outfit designed not just for comfort and practicality, but also to send a clear message: she was not someone to be trifled with.

Originally, Lyra had planned for them to travel by carriage, but Alaric had other ideas.

“Mother,” he said, as they made their way to the stables. “I think we should ride on horseback. It will be much faster than traveling by carriage.”

Lyra thought for a moment before nodding in agreement. “You’re right, dear. And it will be a good experience for you to ride for such a long distance. I’ll have our things packed onto the saddlebags.”

Their belongings were packed into several large bags, which were then secured to the saddle of Lyra’s horse, a magnificent black stallion named Shadow. Alaric would be riding with his mother, seated in front of her on the saddle.

As they set off, Alaric couldn’t help but enjoy the feeling of his mother’s body pressed against his. Her large breasts were pushed up against his back, and he could feel their softness even through the layers of clothing that separated them.

He found himself purposefully leaning back into her, pressing himself against her breasts, enjoying the sexy feeling it gave him.

Lyra, unaware of her son’s dark intentions, simply thought he was adjusting his position and readjusted her hold on him, her breasts pressing more firmly against his back.

Moreover, as he the reins of the horse with confident ease, her body was moving in sync with the animal’s as they galloped across the countryside.

The journey to Rosalind’s residence was a long one, but on horseback, it was significantly shorter than it would have been by carriage.

Rosalind lived in the town of Meadowgrove, a mid-tier town under the territory of the Bennet Family. It took Alaric and Lyra a day and a half to reach the town, their horse eating up the miles with ease.

They soon came across an inn called The Silver Chalice. It was a large, imposing building, its walls made of smooth, gray stone, its roof tiled with dark slate. A sign hung above the door, depicting a gleaming silver chalice set against a black background.

Lyra pulled Shadow to a halt outside the inn and dismounted, helping Alaric down from the saddle. She handed the reins to a stable boy who rushed forward to take them, instructing him to make sure that Shadow was well cared for.

Inside, the inn was warm and inviting, the air filled with the scent of roasting meat and freshly baked bread. Lyra approached the innkeeper, a portly man with a red face and a jovial smile, and inquired about a room for the night.

The innkeeper’s smile widened as he took in Lyra’s elegant appearance, his eyes lingering on the hilt of her sword.

“Of course, my lady,” he said, bowing low. “We have the finest room in the inn available, if it pleases you. It has a large bed, an attached bathroom, a kitchen space, and even its own private garden. The cost is three silver coins for the night.”

Lyra nodded, handing over the required coins. “That will do nicely,” she said. “Please have our things sent up to the room.”

The innkeeper bowed again, snapping his fingers to summon a servant to carry their bags. Lyra and Alaric followed the servant up a winding staircase and down a long hallway, finally arriving at a heavy wooden door.

The servant unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a large, spacious room filled with the pleasant scent of lavender.

The room was elegantly furnished, with a large four-poster bed draped in velvet curtains, a comfortable seating area arranged around a roaring fireplace, and a long table set with a variety of fruits and cheeses.

The attached bathroom was equally impressive, with a large copper tub set into the floor and a steady stream of hot water flowing from a gleaming silver tap.

Once they were settled in their room, Alaric and Lyra took turns washing up and changing into clean, elegant clothing.

Alaric dressed in a crisp white shirt with billowing sleeves, a black velvet waistcoat embroidered with silver thread, and black breeches tucked into polished black boots.

His short blonde hair was neatly combed, and his red crimson eyes with slit pupils sparkled with excitement.

The outfit made him look every inch the heir of a noble family, the rich fabrics and intricate designs a testament to his status and wealth.

Lyra, meanwhile, dressed in a gown that was both elegant and commanding.

It was made of a deep blue silk that shimmered in the light, the bodice fitted to accentuate her large breasts and small waist, the skirt full and flowing, falling to the floor in a cascade of fabric.

The gown was adorned with intricate silver embroidery that matched the embroidery on Alaric’s waistcoat, and the sleeves were long and flowing, ending in a point at her wrists.

Her blonde hair was swept up into an elegant updo, held in place with silver combs, and her ocean blue eyes with round pupils were accentuated with a touch of kohl, making them stand out even more. She looked every inch the matriarch of a noble family, her bearing regal and commanding, her beauty breathtaking.

Once they were both dressed, Lyra hired a carriage to take them to Rosalind’s residence. The carriage that arrived was large and spacious, its exterior adorned with intricate designs that matched those of the inn.

It was drawn by four large White Horses of the Andalusian breed, known for their strength, speed, and elegance. The horses were a superior breed to normal horses, their coats gleaming in the sunlight, their manes and tails flowing like silk.

Alaric and Lyra stepped into the carriage, the interior plush and comfortable, the seats upholstered in soft velvet. Alaric gave the driver Rosalind’s address, and the carriage set off, the horses’ hooves clattering against the cobblestone streets.

As they approached Rosalind’s residence, Alaric and Lyra were shocked to see that the house was surrounded by town guards. The guards were not just ordinary soldiers, but martial artists, their uniforms adorned with symbols that indicated their status and rank. Lyra recognized the symbols immediately, her brow furrowing in concern as she realized that something serious had happened.

The carriage came to a stop, and Alaric and Lyra stepped out, their eyes scanning the scene before them. The guards noticed their arrival and immediately moved to block their path, their expressions stern and unyielding.

Lyra’s eyes narrowed as she took in the sight, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of her sword. She approached the guards, Alaric following close behind her.

“Halt,” one of the guards said, holding up a hand to stop them. “No one is allowed to enter this house.”

Lyra’s brow furrowed, her voice steady and commanding as she asked, “Why is that? And under whose orders?”

The guard looked Lyra up and down, taking in her elegant gown, her commanding presence. He seemed to recognize that she was not someone to be trifled with, and his tone was respectful as he replied, ” Nearly ten days ago, a girl named Rosalind, who lives in this house, attacked Jasper Bennet, the young master of the Bennet Family, with magical attacks. She is to be taken to the Disciplinary Town’s Court for her actions. Until then, the Town Lord has ordered that she and her family are to be kept under house arrest. They are not to meet with anyone or leave the house until the court has made its decision.”

Alaric’s eyes widened in shock and anger as he heard the guard’s words. He couldn’t believe that Rosalind was in such a predicament, and that he was only finding out about it now. He looked up at his mother, his eyes pleading.

Lyra nodded, understanding her son’s silent plea. She turned back to the guards, her aura flaring up, the power of an Expert Martialist radiating from her. The guards took a step back, their eyes widening in surprise and awe.

“I am Lyra Steele,” she said, her voice steady and commanding. “And this is my son, Alaric. We have come to speak with the family of Rosalind. I assure you, we mean them no harm. We only wish to talk.”

The guards looked at each other, uncertainty written on their faces. Lyra pulled out a pouch from her belt, the clink of gold coins audible as she held it out to the guards.

“I understand that you are only doing your duty,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “But I assure you, we mean no harm. We only wish to speak with the family. And I am willing to compensate you for your understanding.”

The guards looked at the pouch, their eyes widening at the sight of the gold coins. For them, this was equivalent to their annual pay. They looked at each other again, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, one of them nodded, taking the pouch from Lyra’s hand.

“Very well,” he said, his voice low. “But you must enter through the side alley window. We will open it for you shortly. Be quick and quiet.”

Lyra nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Thank you,” she said. “We appreciate your understanding.”

As the guard slipped away to open the window, Alaric looked up at his mother, his eyes filled with gratitude and admiration. “Thank you, Mother,” he said, his voice soft.

Lyra smiled down at him, her eyes filled with love and determination. “Of course, moonpie,” she said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t you worry. Rosalind is your friend, and we won’t let anything happen to her.”

As the guard returned, signaling that the window was open, Alaric and Lyra slipped into the alley as they soon an open window.

Lyra boosted Alaric up, helping him climb through the window before following him inside.

~~

A/N:

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