A sharp, deliberate ahem sliced through the air like a needle through silk - the kind of sound that didn't need words to announce a presence.
I jolted, twisted - well, stumbled - turning with all the grace of a dying deer. My battered body howled in protest, my robe slipping off one shoulder as the room tilted dangerously.
And there she was.
Standing in the doorway.
Backlit by the golden spill of morning light, her silhouette was as crisp and cold as a blade drawn at dawn. Her posture was immaculate - poised but not stiff, every muscle precisely where it was meant to be.
Dark-purple hair, so deep it could be mistaken for black, spilled down her back in a perfect sweep. The light teased faint violet streaks from it, as if dusk itself had been combed into every strand. Her eyes matched - violet, steady, still.
They were alluring in their own way, but I couldn't hold her gaze for long. Those eyes were too cold, too unyielding. And yet… I couldn't look away.
Simply put, she was beautiful - more so than anyone I'd ever seen in my life.
She didn't move. Not even a twitch. Just stood there, tray in one hand, a teapot and cup balanced like they were an extension of her arm. Not a tremor. Not a drop spilled.
Most people probably wouldn't notice her beauty at first. She had the kind of presence designed to slip past awareness entirely - graceful enough to vanish in plain sight. But once I saw her, everything else faded away.
This wasn't the "smile and the flowers bloom" kind of beauty. This was the dangerous kind. Sharp. Cold. Precise. The kind you admire from a safe distance because getting closer feels like pressing your palm against the edge of a blade. She carried herself with the flawless composure of someone handcrafted by God purely to prove it could be done.
Thin glasses framed her eyes. I doubted she needed them - more likely, they were a calculated accessory, a prop to make others underestimate her.
But nothing about her should be underestimated.
That stillness wasn't passivity - it was a hunter's patience.
Something about her was… off? I couldn't pin it down - no obvious flaw, no slip in her composure - just a quiet wrongness that set my nerves on edge. The kind of gut feeling you can't explain, the kind you only trust because you've read and written enough webnovels to know when a character is hiding more than they show.
'I wouldn't be surprised if she's some sort of assassin. Classic trope, right? The noble's attendant who could murder them in an instant.'
Curiosity itched at the back of my mind, prickling through my chest. Before I realised it, my focus locked onto her - the same way it had with the King piece earlier. Instinct guided me, certain this was the right move.
And then...
Ping!
A soft chime in my head. A translucent screen blinked into being.
[King's Eyes activated.]
[This skill allows the King to perceive the potential of figures as Pieces. Accuracy and detail depend on perceptivity, emotional intent, and the subject's resistance. King's Eyes may not work on hidden, masked, or hostile targets unless the King's insight surpasses their concealment.]
[Uses Remaining Today: 2/3]
[Warning: Using King's Eyes on figures of much higher power or status will be detected and may cause animosity.]
I quickly skimmed over the text before it shifted into a neat profile:
Name: Zeyra Vale
Title: Unknown
Condition: Unknown
Age: 25
Rank: Advanced Aurist / Advanced Arcanist
Class: Assassin
Aura Path Potential: B
Mana Path Potential: B
'Advanced in both paths… that's impressive, I think? And an assassin, I knew it! Totally not worrying at all.'
'This skill is useful, but only 3 uses a day. I guess it would've been too OP otherwise.'
My gaze returned to her face. Still unreadable. Still watching. Still holding that tray like nothing unusual was happening.
Unfortunately, I'd been muttering to myself the whole time (a bad habit of mine) and looking at floating Status windows that only I could see. From her perspective? I'm sure I looked like a lunatic.
She couldn't possibly know what I saw - but the faint narrowing of her pupils told me she felt it.
'She's definitely of much higher power, so I can assume my King's Eyes alerted her. But she hasn't reacted much. I'll just try to play it off.'
The silence stretched. Too long.
Seeing as she had no intention of speaking first, I cleared my throat. "Uh… good morning?"
She bowed slightly, movement precise enough to look rehearsed.
"Good morning, young master."
I twitched at the title. Not sure if it was the word master or the unnerving way she said it - like she could snap my neck mid-sentence and still make it to her next chore.
'Was I too polite? Crap. Whoever I'm replacing probably wasn't cheerful or chatty.'
I narrowed my eyes, furrowed my brow, and dragged myself to the edge of the bed like it physically hurt to move - which it did - and dropped into the chair beside it with a groan.
"What do you want?" I asked, aiming for spoiled and irritable.
She lifted the tray slightly, a silent reminder of its existence.
"I've brought you medicinal tea to aid your recovery," she said, voice flat as polished stone.
I waved a lazy hand. "Then bring it over. And knock next time."
That one got to her. It was slight - a flicker, a half-second pause - but I saw it.
'So the old Ashen wasn't that bold with her. Noted. Let's not test my limits with the "assassin" too hard.'
She stepped forward, footsteps silent. Poured the tea with surgical precision, stirred once, and handed me the cup without breaking eye contact.
I took it. Warmth seeped into my fingers. She stepped back - just far enough to be out of reach - but kept watching. Not with curiosity, not with admiration.
She was measuring me.
Like I was a puzzle missing a piece.
'What if it's poisoned?' I thought. 'Would be a ridiculous way to die so soon. Tea of all things.'
But refusing it would be worse. And if she wanted me dead, I wouldn't be able to do much to resist.
As such, I took a sip.
It was bitter, earthy, and pungent.
Frankly, it tasted like shit, but I forced it down anyway.
Then… something shifted.
A slow heat unfurled in my chest. My fingers twitched. A rhythmic pulse moved through me.
'Is this… mana?'
Whatever it was, it wasn't something I'd experienced before. The warmth spread, hotter and hotter, until-
My eyes widened.
'…Uh oh.'