Chapter 98: How long have you actually known Hakimi?

Regnault’s frown deepened as he glanced up, taking a moment to place him. "You. You were with Hakimi that day, weren’t you?"

"My face that memorable?" Felix grinned. "Felix. You’re his old friend, right? Trained under the same master. Remind me of your name."

"Regnault." His eyes narrowed, glancing past Felix toward the door. "What are you doing here? Is Hakimi with you?"

"No, not this time." Felix watched the waiter set down their orders. "You heard about the rumors going around him?"

"Those are lies. Fake, all of it, cheap tricks people love pulling on someone they envy." Regnault picked up his knife, unbothered. "Hakimi’s not the type of man who does things like that. I’m certain of it."

"How can you be so sure? Sure, some of it’s obviously exaggerated, but that doesn’t mean none of it’s true." Felix cut into his steak. "Can’t be certain of anything, really."

"Let me ask you something simple." Regnault pointed the knife loosely in his direction. "How long have you actually known Hakimi?"

"Couple months. Though I barely see the guy."

"Then you don’t know shit." Regnault set his wine down hard. "I trained under the same roof with him for over two years, watched him up close every single day. He wouldn’t try something like that. Not while Diana’s around."

"What’s that supposed to mean, ’while Diana’s around’?" Felix’s brow furrowed. "I know he’s her personal knight, probably has been for years, but that doesn’t mean the man can’t have a life outside her."

"I used to think the same thing, honestly." Regnault lifted his glass, swirling it once. "But their whole situation was fairly famous back in the capital, especially among nobles."

He took a long swallow and set the glass back down. "Morrow family’s served the royal line for generations, well known for it. And Hakimi’s the most talented one his family’s produced in a while, maybe ever. Started serving Diana around age five, from what I understand. At school, he spent every waking hour training. Barely seemed human half the time, and that quiet, closed-off attitude of his drove everyone half insane. Nothing ever cost him effort, or at least it never looked like it did. Plenty of us asked him straight out how he managed it, and he’d either ignore the question entirely or just say ’Diana.’ That was the whole answer. Every time."

He shook his head. "People challenged him constantly, trying to knock him down a peg. Every single one got beaten badly for the trouble."

He leaned forward slightly. "And then there’s the sword. Some say it’s an old Morrow family relic, others say it’s a legendary artifact belonging to the royal line itself. But the one thing everyone agreed on was this, Hakimi can only draw that sword for Diana. Doesn’t matter what he wants. He can’t choose to draw it against anyone else, the sword picks who it’s used on, not him." Regnault’s jaw tightened. "That’s the exact moment I decided. I’ll make that man draw his sword against me one day, whatever it takes."

Felix chewed through the last of his steak, turning it over. "So there was nothing else, then? No romance, nobody he ever gave any attention to?"

"Are you actually dense?" Regnault crossed his arms. "Plenty of girls tried. Offered him everything you could imagine. He gave them nothing back. I watched him turn down proposal after proposal myself, girls standing outside the school gates for hours just hoping for one glance in their direction. Didn’t matter who they were or what they offered. Nothing ever worked."

Most people probably knew about the sword and the whole ’only for Diana’ thing back in the capital. But since he had actual standing there, family reputation, connections, none of that trash-talk could take root the same way. Here in Fillipo nobody knows either of them personally, so whoever’s behind this has to be someone from the capital.

Felix finished his wine and wiped his mouth.

And a woman.

"Any specific incident you remember? Someone who stood out from the rest?"

"Can’t say I do." Regnault shrugged. "Been about six years since I left that school, moved to a different one entirely. Only got to Fillipo myself this year, didn’t even know Hakimi and the Duke had relocated up here."

He flagged the waiter for another glass. "There was one, though. Marin, something. Wouldn’t call her particularly memorable, they all kind of blur together after enough years, but at the annual competition she proposed to him in front of everyone. Got rejected on the spot, obviously. She was a bit older than him too, maybe four or five years."

Felix sat with that. Marin. Older than Hakimi. Got rejected in front of the world. That hurts a lot.

The door swung open, and a pair of guards walked in, mid-conversation.

"You believe that? That body they found near the west gate, some saying it was actually Hakimi."

"No, no, didn’t you hear? Word is the man was an impostor, been running around playing him for weeks, wrecking his name."

Felix was on his feet before the sentence finished, already moving for the door.

"Thanks for the meal."

Regnault turned, brow furrowed, watching him go without a word of explanation. He shook his head and finished off the last of his wine.

The waiter arrived a moment later. "That’ll be fifty silvers. Two steaks, three glasses of merlot."

"I’m not covering his half."

...

Fake Hakimi. They’ve got to be talking about the one I caught yesterday, right? Unless there’s more than one running around out there. Either way, I need to see the body myself.

Felix found the crowd gathered thick near the west gate, close enough to the house he’d led the group into the day before that his stomach tightened at the sight of it. City guards shoved back against the press of onlookers, voices raised, doing little good.

"Move. Move." Felix pushed through the bodies, elbowing forward until he found a gap and shouldered his way to the front.