Elira's eyes flicked across the hall, catching the sharp tremor in Baron Griffith's hand as he froze mid-goblet lift. His gaze had landed upon Serina, and though he should have recognized his own flesh and blood, disbelief clouded his expression. For a fleeting moment, he looked like a man staring at a ghost.
'So even her father finds her return hard to stomach', Elira thought, a thin curl tugging at her lips.
But before she could dwell on it, movement at the edge of the banquet caught her attention. A shadow slipping against the currents of silk and laughter. Lira. The maid's pale figure threaded quietly past the un—distracted nobles, her steps deliberate, her face turned from the light. No one spared her a glance—too entranced by wine, music, and the spectacle of royalty.
She watched as Lira pushed through the side doors and slipped into the night gardens, vanishing beneath the veil of moonlight.
'How does she know the secret way out of pavilion?' Q
Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass.
'So... only in secret. Where could you be running, Lira, when every eye is blind but mine?'
'Did she had a sneek out like this even in past? Darn it I need a person to bring me all informations.'
Elira's gaze darted on the garden doors where Lira had vanished, her mind already weaving suspicion into certainty. But outwardly, she wore only a faint, pale smile.
'I can't let her get away like nothing. I need to follow her.'
Turning to Serina, who was laughing with a cluster of young ladies by the dessert table, Elira gently touched her arm.
"Serina," she said softly, her voice calm but threaded with fatigue. "I think the banquet will have to manage without me for a while."
Serina blinked, startled. "Without you? Elira, it's your night. Everyone is here for you as much as for the prince."
A faint laugh escaped Elira's lips, brittle as glass.
"Which is exactly why it will not matter if I slip away for a moment. No one looks at a single candle when the chandelier is shining."
Serina frowned, concern flickering in her eyes. "You're unwell?"
"Not gravely. Only the crowd feels heavier than I expected," Elira replied, lowering her voice as though confessing weakness. "But the banquet cannot falter. And you—" she squeezed Serina's hand—"you were meant to shine here as well. Tonight is ours, remember? I trust you to hold the hall together until I return."
Serina hesitated, biting her lip, then nodded. "Very well. But don't vanish too long. Promise me you'll rest."
Elira's smile sharpened at the edges, though Serina did not notice. "Rest, yes. That's exactly what I intend."
With that, she withdrew, her gown whispering against the marble as she turned toward the shadows, leaving Serina to the chatter of nobles and the watchful eyes of the court.
'And now, Lira', Elira thought as she moved, 'let us see till where your roots run beneath.'
Elira slipped through the garden doors, the music of the banquet fading into silence. Ahead, she caught the faint sweep of a maid's hem disappearing around the hedge.
Her pulse quickened. 'Lira. Why she's running?'
She hurried after, skirts brushing dewy grass leaves, but each turn yielded nothing—only shadows that grew heavier with every step. The manicured paths bled into cobblestone alleys, the torchlight gone, leaving the moon to scrape faint silver over the walls.
Elira stopped, breath uneven.
'I followed her. I'm certain she just turned somewhere here ahead. How come she dissappear like ghost?.'
But the passage lay empty, the silence unnaturally deep. Not a voice, not a footstep, not even the chirp of insects.
'I was so intent on chasing her shadow that I scarcely recall how, in heaven's name, my steps carried me this far into the city's deserted market alleys.'
Her gaze darted through the dark.
'Leave the thought Elira. Where did she go? No one vanishes into air. Unless she knows some magic. '
The thought had barely formed when she felt it—a breath, soft and close, brushing her ear though.
"Who is out there!"
'This presence is not of Lira. '
The night pressed close around her, shadows thick as oil. Elira's words still hung in the air when steel flashed.
Instinct jerked her body sideways. The blade cut nothing but her sleeve, fabric tearing with a hiss.
Her heart hammered. Assassin.
The figure stepped forward, face obscured by a black hood, a second dagger glinting in his hand. The moon caught on the edge, throwing a sliver of light across the cobblestone.
"So the whispers were true," he rasped, voice low, distorted. "The Rothermere girl is attentive." And a villainous crazy smile lurked his face.
Elira's lips curved despite the sting of adrenaline.
"If you hoped to kill a frightened lamb, I'm afraid you've caught the wrong prey."
The assassin lunged, blade slicing toward her throat. She pivoted sharply, skirts flaring, the knife skimming so close it plucked a strand of hair. Her pulse roared in her ears.
'Fast. Too fast. He's no common cutthroat.'
'And with my current physique I can't stand his power. Inspite have experience from my past life.'
'Brick ?yes brick!'
She snatched a loose brick shard from the ground, flinging it into his face. He jerked back, snarling, the blow buying her a breath.
"Elira Rothermere," he spat, circling her. "You were meant to disappear quietly. Why must you chase ghosts not meant for you?"
Her eyes narrowed.
'So this isn't random. Someone sent him.'
"And why," she countered, stepping lightly, gauging the distance, "would a shadow like you care where my feet wander—unless you were sent to guard what I was never meant to see?"
He lunged again! faster, harder. Elira twisted, catching his wrist mid-strike. Pain lanced up her arm, hot and searing, but she ground her teeth and forced the blade down. Steel shrieked against stone, sparks flaring in the dark.
He snarled, strength bearing down on her. "You talk too much for a girl who'll be dead in minutes."
She hissed between her teeth, voice low. "Minutes are all I need."
Her knee snapped upward, striking his ribs. The air punched out of him. She shoved hard, breaking free, then spun, skirts tangling at her ankles.
'Think, Elira. This alley swallows light—he knows it better than you. If you stay, you die.'
'And above all you don't have enough strength to go head on for him.'
Elira hurried her gaze around finding a route out.
"Trying to find little escape pretty lady?"
'Just hell! They just sent more than one assassin!'
He straightened, wiping blood from his lip, dagger raised again. "They warned, you wouldn't die easy. But all pawns fall, one way or another."
Her gaze tightened at the words.
'He knows more than he should.'
"Who sent you," she demanded, voice cutting sharp.
The assassin's grin split wide,
when another voice cut the night.
A pabbel fall , low and sharp.
Then—thunk!
Till the moment pebble caught attention
A dagger sang down from the rooftop, burying itself in the throat of the second shadow that had just stepped into the alley. He collapsed without a sound, blood misting the cobblestones.
Elira froze, breath shuddering. Her eyes flicked upward—
A silhouette crouched on the roof, masked, cloak rippling against the moon. Another dagger glimmered in his hand, its point aimed with unerring precision.
'Who…? An ally?'
"Heck!"
The first assassin cursed, yanking Elira's wrist to wrench her off balance.
"You meddling bastard!" he roared toward the rooftop. "This is not your hunt!"
The figure above didn't answer. Another dagger left his hand, a flash of silver—this one slamming into the heart of the third assassin . The man screamed, stumbling down.
The hooded assassin snarled, jerking Elira against him, steel biting colder at her throat. Her breath caught, lungs straining against the press of iron.
"Stay back!" he barked, dragging her a step backward, his body rigid with rage.
"One wrong twitch and she's dead."
Elira's pulse thundered. Shadows swam at the edges of her vision, but her mind sharpened like glass.
'Too close. Too damn close. I can't fight him off with my current life's body.'
Her gaze darted upward. The figure on the rooftop hadn't moved—deadly calm, another dagger already drawn, poised between two fingers. The moon glazing its edge, cold, merciless.
'What is he doing?.... With that angle… he could pierce this man clean. But if his hand wavers—if he misjudges even a breath—the blade will carve me open too.'
"Don't you dare!" the assassin hissed, catching the shift of Elira's eyes. His grip on her wrist tightened cruelly, bones grinding.
"You think that phantom up there will save you?" His lips twisted into a vicious grin. "I've ended too many lives to be outplayed by a shadow."
Then, with brutal suddenness, he wrenched Elira sideways, using her stumble to break the rooftop figure's aim. A flash of movement from his free hand—
Clink.
A small orb clattered against the cobblestones at their feet.
Elira's eyes widened.' No—!'
BOOOM!
The place erupted.
A violent hiss split the night, followed by a plume of violet smoke that burst outward like a living thing. It clawed her throat raw, burning her lungs, searing her eyes. Her body doubled over, coughing, choking, vision swimming.
The assassin's laugh echoed through the haze, distorted and cruel.
Footsteps retreated into the dark, fading as the smoke thickened. He was gone—swallowed by the very poison gas he unleashed.
Elira collapsed to her knees, her gown soaking in dirt, breath coming ragged, heat spreading in her veins.
'Damn it… can't breathe…'
Through the blur, she caught one last flicker of movement.
The rooftop figure dropped from above, landing light as a cat in the smoke. His outline wavered, cloak shrouding him, but his daggers gleamed with the promise of death. His head turned sharply, not toward the retreated assassin—but to her. and made a protective transparent shell around blocking the poison gas.
Her lips trembled, words barely scraping out between coughs. "Who… are you…"
He didn't answer. Instead, he strode through the haze, swift and silent, cutting down another straggler—one she hadn't even noticed—before crouching beside her.
The last thing Elira saw before darkness claimed her was the glint of his jawline only left nude by the cloak—cold and sharp.