Page 5 of The Rumpled Gentleman

Chapter

Five

M adness. Orion had succumbed to absolute madness.

After he’d shown Elara a servants’ door for her to return to her rooms with her stolen flowers, he’d gone back to the ball. He still had to keep up appearances. Inwardly, he cursed himself.

He’d all but pretended to be a High Fey, someone capable of wielding great magic, of changing fortunes, all because a woman’s heartbreak had shown so clearly in her eyes. Not even the High Fey could do what the duke wanted. Orion knew well enough that the Duke of Sutton had spent decades searching through magical tomes and relics to find such secrets. They didn’t exist.

How would he fulfill his promise to Elara? There was a chance he could help her escape. And her father, too. But to what end? The duke would hunt them down and punish them for making him look like a fool.

Elara needed protection from someone more powerful than the duke. Orion wasn’t that person. Even if he managed to achieve his goal, if he perfected the use of firestone for a less expensive, healthier alternative fuel, that would only be enough to secure his financial independence from the duke.

Orion weaved through the crowd, lost in his thoughts, when a figure in an elaborate pirate costume, complete with a tricorn hat and a mock cutlass at his side, bumped into him. The man’s pointed ears, a distinct sign of his half-elf heritage, peeked out from beneath his hat.

“Pardon me, friend,” the pirate said, his voice light with the merriment of the evening. His eyes, a striking shade of green, twinkled with unspoken tales of adventure and mischief. One might almost take him for a real pirate.

Orion, recognizing the man despite his costume, let a small smile crack his stoic demeanor. “No harm done, Callon.”

The pirate paused, peering more closely at Orion. “Do I know you, sir?” His tone was playful, yet there was a hint of genuine puzzlement.

Orion lowered his voice. “It’s me, Callon. Orion.”

Callon’s eyes widened in recognition, and a broad grin spread across his face. “Orion! By the stars, I didn’t recognize you. Playing the mysterious stranger tonight, are we?”

Orion managed a half-hearted chuckle. “Something like that.”

Callon clapped him on the shoulder, his smile fading slightly as he noted Orion’s tension. “You seem troubled, my friend. The weight of the world on your shoulders, even at a ball such as this. Come, now. Even if it’s your less-than-benevolent father throwing the event, you can still enjoy yourself. And at his expense.”

Orion glanced around, ensuring they weren’t overheard. “Things are somewhat too complicated for that at the moment.”

The half-elf nodded sagely, his expression turning more serious. “I understand. I’m no stranger to unpleasant machinations of kin and court. If it’s worse than the usual, I am here to give aid. You know that, do you not?”

There was a comfort in Callon’s words, a reminder of the friendships Orion had outside his father’s shadow. “Thank you. That means more than you know.”

The half-elf’s expression lightened again, and he gestured with a theatrical flourish. “Let us not dwell on shadows this evening. The night is young, and there are tales to be told, dances to be had. Perhaps a duel or two with these noble blades.” He shook the hilt of his mock cutlass with a laugh.

Orion allowed himself a smile. “If a duel could solve my problem, I would take you up on that.”

“That bad, is it?” The half-elf’s eyes momentarily darkened. “We cannot speak plainly here, obviously.” Callon tipped his head toward a knot of people, several of them ladies, watching their conversation with curious looks. “But after, come to my house. We can talk. It’s been too long.”

Orion agreed, and they parted ways.

As Callon disappeared back into the throng of the ball, Orion stood for a moment, watching the dancers swirl in a blur of color and laughter. The music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses—it all seemed a world away from the serious matters occupying his thoughts. As he moved through the throng of guests, Orion felt a momentary ease. Even as his thoughts remained on Elara and the promise he had made.

Orion arrived at Callon’s house as the first light of dawn was breaking over the horizon. The dwelling was modest, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, its unassuming exterior belying the influence of Callon’s family.

It wasn’t the butler but Callon himself who opened the door, his expression alert despite the early hour. “Orion, come in.” He stepped aside to let his friend enter.

Inside, the house was cozy and well-kept, a stark contrast to the opulent excess of the duke’s home. Orion took a seat in the modest drawing room.

He recounted everything to Callon—his encounter with Elara in the garden, her desperate situation, and the promise he had made. He spoke of the duke’s demands and the impossibility of turning flora into gold, his words heavy with the weight of the responsibility he felt. He didn’t trust anyone the way he did his oldest friend. And he needed help.

Callon listened intently, his green eyes thoughtful. “And what of your work with the firestone?” he asked after a moment. “How close are you to a breakthrough?”

Orion pushed a hand through his hair, impatiently. “I believe I’m on the verge of something significant. I’m nearly ready for testing.”

Callon nodded, considering. “If you’re right, this could be the leverage you need. Not merely for your independence, but as a bargaining chip to protect Elara and her father.”

Orion’s gaze hardened with determination. “The duke’s patience won’t last for long.”

“I’ll arrange a demonstration of your work,” Callon said decisively. “I have contacts who would be interested in such an innovation. People with enough influence to hold the duke at bay.”

Orion didn’t feel much relief at that. “Thank you, Callon. Until then, I need to keep Elara safe.”

The two men spent the next hour devising a plan. They spoke in hushed tones, their conversation a series of strategies and contingencies.

As Orion stood to leave, the afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows.

“We’ll make this work, Orion,” Callon said, clasping his friend’s shoulder. “For the lady’s sake, and for the future you’re trying to build.”

“I hope so.” Orion nodded, resolve hardening. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Stepping out of Callon’s house, Orion felt the weight of his promise to Elara, his own hard work, and his mother’s well-being, all settling heavily on his shoulders. The stakes were high, and the risks were many, but he would see this through. For Elara, for her father, his mother, and for a chance at a future free from the duke’s shadow.