Well, that went spectacularly wrong.
I had been so certain today was going to be perfect. I mean, I had done everything right: snuck in like a ghost, found the target with my usual ease, and eliminated him without even breaking a sweat. You could say I was practically purring with satisfaction.
But, you see, it's never that simple, is it?
As I was elegantly making my exit from the study—mission complete, feeling light as a feather—something completely unexpected happened.
Specifically, a guard decided to materialize out of thin air. He must have been hiding in the shadows, eagerly waiting for his moment to play the hero. Well, surprise! His moment of glory turned into my complete meltdown.
One second, I was strutting out of there like the world's deadliest cat—cool, calm, and deadly—and the next, there was a jab. A very unwelcome jab in my rib.
I froze. And not in the "I'm-a-great-assassin" way. No. In the "Oops-I'm-getting-stabbed" way. It wasn't just a poke, either. It was a dagger—a shiny, pretty, pointy thing that shouldn't have been anywhere near me.
"Ah! Excuse me!" I yelped, clutching my side as an agonizing, squelching pain spread through my ribs. The guard—looking way too pleased with himself—smiled smugly, as if he'd just won some grand victory.
"Really? Really?!" I barked, half-laughing in disbelief. With one hand clutching my side and the other grabbing the dagger, I tried to yank it out. Because clearly, pulling a knife out of my body in the middle of a mission was a perfectly rational thing to do. Totally fine. Nothing to worry about here.
I could feel the blood running down, and for real, it was messing up my otherwise immaculate attire. "This was meant to be clean," I muttered to myself—not in a peaceful, composed way, but in a slightly-hysterical, still-theatrical way, because of course I had to make a scene.
Rael, who had been tailing me, appeared in the doorway just in time to see me trip.
"Mochi! What the—!" His voice was alarmingly worried. "What did you do?!"
I stood up, trying to look all tough and unconcerned, but the blood started flowing faster, so I just gave him my best "I'm-not-crying" smile. "Oh, you know. Just made a small mistake in judgment. Got stabbed. No biggie."
Rael didn't take kindly to my nonchalance. He stared at me, shock flickering across his face, and before I knew it, I was scooped up in his arms—like a sack of potatoes, only slightly more dramatic and with a lot more stubbornness.
"Hey! I'm not a baby!" I protested weakly, gripping his cloak with one hand. But honestly, it was hard to argue when my vision was blurring like I was about to slip into a nightmare.
"You're lucky you're still speaking," Rael grumbled, though his voice was void of humor. "You're going to be okay. Just hold on to me, okay?"
I gave him a flat stare as he bolted down the hallway, practically flying with me in his arms like I was some reluctant princess. "If I faint, I'm completely blaming you for dragging me out of here like this."
"Yeah, yeah. It's my fault you chose to get stabbed in the middle of making your escape," he shot back dryly, though his eyes still held that familiar, lingering concern.
This whole experience was absurd. Here I was, the best assassin in all the realms (or so I liked to believe), and now I was a human pincushion. All because I got a bit too cocky. Ugh.
"You know," I murmured weakly, trying to keep things light, "I think I just broke a new personal record for worst exit ever."
Rael raised an eyebrow, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I've seen you botch things before, but this tops them all."
I smiled, trying to ignore the heavy feeling creeping into my legs, insisting on keeping my act together. "You should see me next time, when I'm not stabbed. I'm amazing."
And then, as fate would have it, I allowed myself to drift off, half-smiling, half-glaring at the absurdity of it all.
Because if I was going to die from a dagger wound, I might as well do it with flair.