Chapter 515: A Very Public Breakdown

Heinrich Bramwell did not go quietly.

As Derrick’s heavy-set house guards dragged him down the carpeted grand staircase of the theater, the disgraced noble kicked his legs wildly, blood, tears, and snot smearing all over his face. The theater main hall was still packed with high-society aristocrats leaving the afternoon show, and every single eye in the foyer locked onto the pathetic, screaming mess being hauled out into the daylight.

"Let go of me, you dogs!" Heinrich shrieked, his voice echoing loudly against the high marble arches. "Cherion is a monster! A viper! He ruined my family! He stole our fortune! Look at him! Look at what he did to my face!"

Cherion walked down the stairs a few paces behind them, his hands tucked loosely into his coat pockets. He watched Heinrich’s hysterical breakdown with a faint, incredulous smirk, almost feeling like applauding the man’s sheer endurance. Honestly, impressive lung capacity, Cherion thought, shaking his head. I hit him so hard his lip split in two, and the bastard can still scream loud enough to shatter glass.

The surrounding crowd whispered feverishly behind their lace fans and velvet gloves, taking in the spectacle. They stared at Heinrich’s bloodied nose, then glanced up at Cherion, who looked entirely immaculate save for a slightly rumpled collar and bruised knuckles.

Outside the grand entrance, two carriages were waiting.

One of Derrick’s guards had the young lord slung over his shoulder like a heavy sack of grain, carefully hauling him into the carriage.

Beside them, Ezek took a very different approach with Reiner. Without a single word or hesitation, the tall guard slid one heavy arm under Reiner’s knees and the other behind his back, easily lifting the unconscious chief attendant up into his arms, carrying him bridal style toward their own carriage.

Cherion, walking right behind Ezek, couldn’t help but blink in mild amusement at the sight. "Smooth, Ezek," Cherion murmured under his breath.

Ezek didn’t flinch, his face a total mask of stoic professionalism as he ducked his head to step into the carriage, gently setting Reiner down onto the padded leather bench seat. "He’s light, Lord Cherion. It was the most efficient way to carry him without disturbing his neck."

"Right, right. Efficiency," Cherion chuckled softly as he climbed into the carriage after them.

Ezek shut the heavy carriage door behind them, signaling the driver to move out. The carriage jolted forward, the wheels rolling smoothly over the cobblestones as they departed the bustling plaza, leaving Heinrich’s screeching behind in the distance.

Inside the carriage, the air was quiet. Derrick was propped up on the opposite bench, his head lolling slightly to the side, while Reiner rested against the plush leather cushions next to Cherion.

Cherion let out a slow breath, peeling off his left leather glove. He closed his eyes, concentrating his mind until a faint, warm, golden glow began to emanate softly from his palm. He reached out, gently pressing his warm hand against Reiner’s forehead first, letting his innate healing magic seep down into Reiner’s bloodstream to flush out whatever quick-acting knockout toxin Heinrich had used on them.

A few seconds passed before Reiner’s eyelashes fluttered. His brow furrowed in deep confusion, a quiet groan escaping his throat as he slowly opened his eyes.

"Nngh... my head..." Reiner mumbled, his vision blurry as he blinked up at the carriage ceiling.

"Take it easy," Cherion whispered softly, pulling his hand back from Reiner’s forehead and shifting over to repeat the process on Derrick. "You were knocked out."

Reiner sat up abruptly, his hands instantly flying toward his hip to check for his blade. His eyes darted around the carriage in utter panic before landing squarely on Cherion.

"Lord Cherion?!" Reiner gasped, his breath hitching as he leaned forward to inspect Cherion’s face. "What happened?! The minute I saw that man’s face in the shadows... wait, where is he?! Did he touch you?! Did he hurt you?!"

"Calm down, Reiner, I’m completely fine," Cherion said with a soothing smile, keeping his glowing palm pressed gently over Derrick’s temple. "He didn’t hurt me. In fact, he couldn’t even touch me."

"He couldn’t...?" Reiner blinked, looking thoroughly disoriented. "My Lord, the last thing I remember was a faint scent of something near the washroom door, and then my knees went completely numb. Did Ezek reach you in time?"

"No," Cherion replied with an easy, unbothered grin, turning his eyes toward Reiner. "I beat him myself."

Reiner stared at Cherion, his jaw dropping slightly. "You... you beat him?"

"Smashed his face right in," Cherion said, nodding proudly. "He’s bleeding like a stuck pig and currently being dragged off to the imperial cells by Derrick’s guards."

Before Reiner could process that startling piece of news, Derrick let out a sharp, gasping cough on the opposite bench, his eyes snapping open as Cherion’s healing magic cleared the last remnants of the drug from his system.

"Woah!" Derrick sat bolt upright, clutching his chest as he looked around wildly. "What in the world... Cherion?! Reiner?!"

"We’re in the carriage, Derrick," Cherion reassured him, withdrawing his hand as the golden light faded away. "You’re safe."

Derrick rubbed his face vigorously with both hands, his memory suddenly rushing back in a sharp wave. "That bastard! The disgraced Bramwell boy! Heinrich! I saw him right before everything went black... he blew some kind of powder out of a hollow pipe!" Derrick’s eyes widened in sheer shock as he looked at Cherion. "Cherion, are you okay?! Did he try to do something to you?!"

"I’m fine, Derrick. Really," Cherion sighed softly, resting his back against the cushions and flexing his swollen right hand. "I handled him before the guards arrived. Both you and Reiner were just drugged to sleep, but the magic flushed it out of your system. You won’t even have a headache."

Derrick stared at Cherion in utter disbelief, his lower lip trembling slightly before he buried his face in his hands. "Gods above... you saved me again, Cherion. I brought you out for a peaceful day, and instead, I got drugged in a theater bathroom like an idiot."

"Please don’t say that, Derrick," Cherion said quietly, a flicker of genuine guilt darkening his expression as he looked down at his lap. "If anything, you got dragged into danger today entirely because of me. Heinrich was hunting me. He holds a bitter, crazy grudge against my past, and you just happened to be standing next to me when he made his move. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you."

"Don’t say such nonsense, Lord Cherion!" Reiner cut in firmly, his voice ringing with absolute certainty as he reached over to gently pat Cherion’s sleeve. "That lunatic Heinrich is entirely at fault! He was a corrupt, greedy fraud who ruined his own family, and now he’s trying to blame his miserable life on you. You have nothing to apologize for!"

"Reiner is right," Derrick agreed, lifting his head and nodding emphatically. "My father is going to be furious when he hears about this. Heinrich Bramwell thought he lost everything before? Just wait until the high court processes a direct attack on the Duke’s fiancé and the heir of House Avery!"

Cherion let out a quiet, tired laugh, looking out the carriage window as the grand townhouses of the upper noble district began to slide past them.

"I just hope," Cherion murmured softly, "that this time, Heinrich finally gets the real, permanent consequences he deserves."