Episode-818
Chapter : 1635
He grabbed his coat. He checked his pockets—he had the hairpin. The one he had given Jasmin. The one they found in her hand. He would give it to her mother. It was all he had left of her.
He walked out of the lab, leaving the safety of the dark underground for the harsh light of the surface. He had a war to fight, but first, he had a mother to face. And that terrified him more than any Devil King.
The carriage ride to the Weaver district was quiet. It wasn't the peaceful quiet of a library; it was the suffocating quiet of a waiting room before a surgery. Lloyd sat across from Mina, his hands resting on his knees. He wasn't shaking anymore. He had moved past shaking into a state of cold, vibrating tension. Ken Park sat on the driver's box outside, but Lloyd could feel his bodyguard’s anxiety radiating through the wood of the carriage.
The Weaver district smelled like boiled cabbage, wet wool, and hopelessness. It was a sharp contrast to the ozone and oil smell of Lloyd’s laboratory. Here, the poverty wasn't a statistic; it was the mud on the road and the thin faces of the children watching the fancy carriage roll by.
"You don't have to do this alone," Mina said softly. She reached out to touch his hand, but Lloyd pulled away slightly. He didn't mean to be rude, but his skin felt too sensitive, like he was sunburnt.
"I do," Lloyd said. "I am the Lord. I am the one who gave the order. The buck stops here, and all that."
"That's an old saying," Mina noted.
"It's a good saying. It means I have to pay the bill."
The carriage stopped in front of a small, leaning house. It looked like a strong wind would knock it over. The roof sagged, and the windows were patched with oiled paper. It was the kind of house that apologized for existing.
Lloyd stepped out. His boots sank into the mud. He adjusted his coat. He was wearing his fine noble clothes, not his lab gear. He felt like a peacock walking into a graveyard. It felt disrespectful to be this clean.
A neighbor, a stout woman with arms like tree trunks and a face like a dried apple, was waiting for them. She wiped her hands on her apron and bobbed a clumsy curtsy.
"My Lord," she said, her voice trembling. "She's inside. She... she ain't good. She talks to the doll like it's people. And she forgot that jasmin died.I think something happened to her memory. But she doesn’t know that, she is dead."
"Thank you for your information," Lloyd said. "Ken, stay here. Guard the carriage. Don't look at anyone menacingly. Try to look... approachable."
Ken, who naturally looked like a statue carved from granite and bad news, nodded stiffly. "I will attempt to look... mild."
Lloyd and Mina entered the house. It was dark inside. The air was thick with the smell of sickness and old lavender. In the corner, sitting in a rocking chair that creaked rhythmically, was Mrs. Weaver.
She looked small. She had shrunk. Lloyd remembered seeing her once before, from a distance. She had been a vibrant woman then. Now, she was a husk. Her skin was grey, stretched tight over her bones. Her eyes were fixed on a small, ragged doll in her lap. She was stroking its yarn hair with a terrifying tenderness.
Lloyd felt a lump form in his throat the size of a fist. He had fought monsters. He had stared down a Devil King. But this... this terrified him.
"Mrs. Weaver?" Lloyd asked. His voice sounded too loud in the small room.
The woman stopped rocking. She turned her head slowly. Her eyes were cloudy, but they sharpened when they landed on Lloyd.
"The Young Lord," she whispered. Her voice was like dry leaves. "You came."
"I came," Lloyd said. He walked over and knelt beside her chair, ignoring the dust on the floor. "I heard you weren't eating."
"Not hungry," she said. She looked past him, towards the door. "Where is she? Where is my Jasmine?"
This was the moment. The truth was sitting on Lloyd’s tongue, heavy and bitter. She died. She died saving my father. She died because I wasn't fast enough.
He looked at her frail chest, rising and falling with shallow breaths. He looked at her hands, trembling on the doll.
Chapter : 1636
If he told her the truth, she would die. Right now. Her heart would simply stop. The only thing keeping her tethered to this world was the thin, fraying rope of hope. If he cut that rope with the knife of truth, he would be a murderer.
Lloyd made a decision. He decided to be a liar. He decided to be the best liar in the history of the kingdom.
"She's not here," Lloyd said. He forced a smile onto his face. It felt like stretching rubber. "She... she couldn't come. She's busy."
Mrs. Weaver’s face crumpled. "Busy? Too busy for her ma?"
"No," Lloyd said quickly. "Not like that. She... Mrs. Weaver, Jasmine isn't just a maid anymore. She's special. You know that, right?"
The woman blinked. "Special?"
"Yes. She has a gift. A rare, powerful gift. The Diamond Spirit." Lloyd leaned in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "The King himself noticed her. He... he recruited her."
"The King?" Mrs. Weaver’s eyes widened. "My Jasmin?"
"Yes. She's been selected for a special training program. Top secret. Only the elite. She's training to be a Royal Protector. It's very intense. She's in a secret location in the mountains. No communication allowed. It's for national security."
Lloyd felt dirty. The lie tasted like ash. But he kept going. He layered the lie with gold and glitter.
"She wanted to come," Lloyd continued. "She begged me to come tell you. She said, 'Tell Ma I'm eating my vegetables and I'm learning how to use a sword.' She's going to be a hero, Mrs. Weaver. A real hero."
Mina, standing by the door, watched him. Her face was unreadable, but her hands were clenched into fists. She knew what this was costing him.
Mrs. Weaver stared at Lloyd. She wanted to believe him. She desperately wanted to believe him. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, but then it faded. The mother's intuition, that deep, primal radar, pinged a warning.
"She would have written," Mrs. Weaver whispered. "Even if it was secret. She would have sent a sign. She... she feels gone, My Lord. I feel it in my bones. It's cold."
Lloyd froze. The lie wasn't working. Words weren't enough.
"She is training," Lloyd insisted, his voice cracking slightly. "She is getting strong. She is going to be the strongest woman in the kingdom. You have to eat. You have to get strong too. So you can see her when she comes back. If you die... she'll have no one to show her medals to."
Mrs. Weaver looked at him. Her eyes bored into his soul.
"I need to see her," she said. Her voice was flat, absolute. "I don't need medals. I don't need the King. I need to see my girl. Just once. If I see her... if I see she's okay... then I'll eat. I'll eat the whole pot of stew."
She grabbed Lloyd’s hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
"Bring her to me, My Lord. Please. Just for a minute. Bring my baby home."
Lloyd looked at her pleading face. He looked at the doll. He felt the trap closing around his neck. He had promised a miracle he couldn't deliver. But looking at this dying woman, he knew he couldn't say no.
"Okay," Lloyd whispered. "Okay. I'll bring her. I promise."
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The ride back to the Ferrum Estate was a descent into madness. Lloyd sat in the carriage, staring at his boots. He was vibrating. His mind was racing at a million miles an hour, bouncing off the walls of his skull like a trapped bird.
"You promised her," Mina said quietly. "Lloyd... you promised to bring a dead girl to tea."
"I know what I did," Lloyd snapped. He didn't look at her. "I bought time. She was going to die tonight, Mina. I saw it. Her bio-rhythm was failing. The hope... the lie... it gave her a battery boost. She'll eat tonight. She'll wait."
"She'll wait for a ghost," Mina said. "What happens tomorrow? Or the next day? You can't produce Jasmin. She's in the crypt. We buried her."
"Physics," Lloyd muttered. "Biology. Magic. It's all just data."
"Lloyd, stop. You're spiraling."
"I am not spiraling! I am strategizing!" Lloyd yelled. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots. "There has to be a way. Necromancy? No, that's evil, and it brings back rotting corpses. Illusions? No, Rubaiya proved illusions are empty; a mother would know. A golem? No, too mechanical."