Max stood on the eastern battlement, watching clouds drift across the full moon. The citadel slept below him, ignorant of what the night would bring. His fingers tapped against the stone in a precise rhythm, counting seconds.
The shadows move earlier now.
In his previous life, the first assassination attempt on Violet occurred three days from now. But subtle shifts in the timeline—his own actions, changed patrol routes, different supply shipments—had accelerated certain events while delaying others.
Footsteps approached. Max slipped behind a buttress as a guard passed, torch illuminating the walkway. When darkness returned, he moved toward the northern tower where Violet kept her personal chambers.
The night air carried strange scents—oil, unfamiliar herbs, and something metallic. Max paused at the junction between the main keep and the north wing. A flash of movement caught his eye—a shadow crossing the courtyard below that didn't belong to any guard patrol.
"Right on time," he whispered.
Max descended through a servant's passage, avoiding the night watch. He'd spent days mapping the citadel's blind spots, noting which guards dozed at their posts and which remained vigilant. The kitchen corridor offered the clearest path to intercept the intruders before they reached the northern tower.
He crouched behind stacked flour barrels as two figures slipped through the kitchen door. Their movements betrayed professional training—weight distributed evenly, steps falling silently on stone floors. Each wore dark clothing with the faintest purple trim visible in the moonlight streaming through high windows.
Imperial assassins. Earlier than expected.
Max watched them check a small vial, purple liquid catching the faint light. Poison meant for Violet's morning tea, delivered by infiltrating her serving staff before dawn.
The taller assassin gestured toward the servants' quarters. Max moved first.
A wooden spoon clattered to the floor fifty paces down the corridor. Both assassins froze, then the shorter one moved to investigate. Max circled behind a hanging rack of pots, calculating angles and timing.
When the assassin passed, Max kicked a large pot from its hook. The man instinctively caught it before it could crash to the floor, but the momentary distraction was enough. Max struck precisely at the nerve cluster below the ear, then caught the unconscious body before it hit the stone.
"Kelin?" the second assassin called softly.
Max propped the unconscious man against the wall, then reached for the ceiling beams overhead. He pulled himself up just as the second assassin rounded the corner.
The man knelt beside his partner, checking for signs of life. Max dropped silently behind him, wrapping his arm around the assassin's neck in a bloodchoke. The man struggled briefly before slumping forward.
Max bound both men with kitchen twine, searched them thoroughly, and confiscated their weapons and poison. A scroll hidden in the taller one's boot caught his attention—orders bearing an Imperial seal with a serpent motif. Max pocketed it for later examination.
He dragged both unconscious bodies to a root cellar and locked the door. They wouldn't be found until morning inventory, long after he'd dealt with the third assassin.
There was always a third.
Max climbed the servants' stairwell to the third floor, passing two drowsy guards without detection. The corridor outside Violet's chambers remained clear, but he sensed wrongness in the air—a draft where none should exist.
The window at the end of the hall stood slightly ajar. Max approached cautiously, noting scuff marks on the exterior stone. The third assassin had scaled the tower rather than risk the interior passages.
Max slipped into an alcove beside Violet's chamber door. A tapestry provided cover as he waited. Minutes stretched into an hour before a shadowy figure descended from the ceiling beams, landing without sound.
This assassin moved differently—more fluid, more dangerous. A woman with close-cropped hair and a face half-hidden behind a mesh veil. She carried no visible weapons, but Max recognized the stance of an aura-enhanced killer.
The assassin produced a strange key for Violet's door—cylindrical with glowing runes. A void key, capable of bypassing magical wards. Such tools were Imperial secrets, unavailable even to church officials.
Max retrieved a pouch from his pocket and scattered fine sand across the floor behind her. As she inserted the key, he stepped from the alcove.
"Looking for someone?" he asked softly.
The assassin whirled, hands flowing into striking position. "The silent cub speaks," she whispered. "How unexpected."
Max maintained distance between them. "Imperial assassins targeting the heir. The Emperor grows bold."
"Smart boy." She circled slowly. "But too weak to matter."
"Then why waste words on me?"
Her foot shifted slightly backward—preparing to lunge. Max had positioned himself perfectly. When she moved, her foot slid on the scattered sand. Not enough to topple her, but sufficient to disrupt her balance for half a second.
Max sidestepped her strike, redirecting her momentum toward the window. The assassin recovered instantly, spinning to face him.
"Interesting," she murmured. "You move like someone taught by pain."
Max didn't respond, keeping his body language passive while calculating angles of attack. The assassin lunged again, this time with an aura-enhanced strike that would shatter ribs if it connected.
Instead of blocking directly, Max turned his body, allowing her fist to pass inches from his chest. He seized her extended wrist, using her own momentum to pull her forward while his foot swept her supporting leg.
The assassin hit the stone floor with a muffled thud. Before she could recover, Max pressed a nerve point at the base of her skull—a technique learned from Hazel in his previous life. The woman's eyes widened in surprise before closing.
Max quickly bound her and dragged her to a nearby storage room. He confiscated the void key and several concealed weapons, including poisoned needles and a flexible wire garrote.
Inside Violet's chambers, he heard his sister stir. "Who's there?" she called sleepily.
Max slipped away without answering. By morning, the guards would discover three assassins in various storage areas. None would remember Max's involvement, and Violet would never know how close death had come.
He returned to his own chambers as dawn approached. Hidden beneath his mattress, he kept a journal of timeline changes. Tonight's entry would be significant:
Imperial assassination attempt came three days early. Void key technology indicates higher priority than previous timeline. Violet remains primary target. The shadows move earlier now.
At breakfast, nobles visiting from the southern provinces whispered behind painted fans.
"The Emperor grows impatient with the border lords."
"Three Imperial agents found in the citadel overnight. What does it mean?"
"The eldest Drakhalis girl provokes jealousy in the capital."
"They say someone protected her. A silent guardian."
Max sipped his tea, watching Violet discuss border patrols with their father. She remained unaware that Imperial assassins had nearly reached her door—or that her adopted brother had stopped them without revealing his growing abilities.
The timeline shifted around them like sand on a shore, patterns changing with each action he took. Max caught Violet watching him curiously. He nodded slightly, then returned to his breakfast.
Some secrets needed keeping, even from those he sought to protect.