The door creaked despite its exceptional craftsmanship. She cursed under her breath as she slipped through the crack she'd made for herself and slid the double doors shut.
After taking a moment to listen, she let out a shuddering sigh and felt for her short sword at her lower back. Determination flooded her veins, she nodded to the darkness and took her first step toward her target.
'Right about now, he should be knocked out by the poison... right?'
Her blood ran cold on her second step. The atmosphere grew heavy, as it always was when he was around. A thread of hesitation wormed itself into her psyche. Could she really see through with this mission?
What if she fails and, and...
'Stop!'
Naesh gulped down air with greed, reciting her mantras mentally, rebuilding her resolve. Her clothes were already drenched in sweat.
"Haaa~ What's taking you so long?"
It came in sudden. The voice was thick and deep, it uttered every word in an eerie slowness, hammering every nail upon her coffin.
She had been found out!
But how? She racked her brains whilst in the darkness, holding her breath, hoping that he might've been sleep talking. But a tag at the back of her mind knew the truth already, she was just coping.
'Heh!' She mentally chuckled at her distress. She had signed up for this, a stupid calf trotting into the Tiger's den, drunk in delusions of taming the beast.
"Wh...why are you still, still up at this hour?" She managed.
There was a pause, it stretched to infinity and she thought she was losing her mind speaking to the darkness—
"Why shouldn't I be?"
Naesh felt her organs twist and turn. He always had a way of breaking you down effortlessly. He was like a diamond rose on a pedestal, even now, despite herself, she felt the ache between her legs, prowling like a starved feline, threatening to rob her of the ability to stand upright.
Roses came as they always did: lovely, deceptive, and armed.
"I mean, after the massive party you hosted? A normal person would've been deadbeat right about now. It's 3am, you know?"
She gave herself a pat on the back, her confidence had arrived in full swing. Another silence, he liked to take his time before answering her. Perhaps he was aware of her mind games and had decided to humor them. But with every second that trickled by, she got the more restless.
"Come here."
That's it? Just like that? Who does he think he is, to make such orders as if he were a king? Yet, despite the protests of her mind, her feet had adhered to his command, rather than hers.
Along her mechanical walk towards the voice, she stepped into a puddle of water, the fur carpet oozed more with every step.
'What is this. And why in all hell, am I walking in the dark?!'
With righteous fury, she raised her arms and clapped twice. A second later, warm light flooded into the massive room. Truly, he had aesthetic taste, to say the least. Most of his furniture was curved from hardwood, and his walls were adorned with snippets of history from across the world. Moreso in ancient forms of weaponry, it never ceased to amaze her every time she walked into their room.
Ugh! Her leggings were getting wet, she despised how sticky her toes felt. Her eyes finally drifted to her feet.
"Ah!" She yelped and took a step back, slipping in her haste and falling on her backside. This time, she didn't mind the discomfort of dampness, her body had clumped up. She stared unblinkingly at the object a few feet away in front of her.
Their gazes met. Blank eyes stared right back at Naesh, the light in them snuffed out. Twin streaks of dried tears had etched into the makeup, like rifts upon dried ground. Her expression had been frozen in utter terror, her features had adopted various emotions; fear, remorse, grief, anger, and finally, horror! That is how she'd died. Decapitated, her body nowhere to be seen.
Naesh schooled in her emotions, as she had been taught. Always gather more information, the situation might seem dire, but maybe you haven't been found out just yet. She gulped down her fear and rose to her feet, her purple kimono drenched in scarlet.
The room was half-lidded with corpses, its walls patterned in blood like a grotesque mural. Suddenly, it all hit her at once, iron and ethanol was thick in the atmosphere, it overwhelmed her, and she had to breathe through her mouth. Why hadn't she noticed the smell earlier?
'Right. I was so nerve–racked to notice my surroundings.'
Now then, it was time to find the cause of all this bloodshed. Naesh soared her eyes slowly across the room. Oh god, there was so much blood! Everything was still and dead, finally, they landed on him.
He was seated on his desk as though nothing were out of place. His eyes – charcoal irises with indistinct pupils that gave him a soulless gaze – bore into her, studying her with intensity of a predator.
'Does he know?' Naesh took steady steps towards him, her muscles pulling tight beneath her clothes .
She let her gaze linger on him longer than she intended, studying the man with a calm she didn't quite feel. He was a hulking figure, broad – every movement carrying the weight of quiet authority. His yukata, though custom–tailored, clung to him as if reluctant to part from his frame. The white fabric stretched over his shoulders, the seams whispering against the strain of muscle beneath. His brown skin caught the dim light, its warmth softened by the cold sheen of blood. Crimson had claimed him in cruel artistry, splattered across the cloth like erratic brushstrokes, staining his beard where he'd once tried to wipe it clean. The result was a portrait both violent and magnetic, a man too composed to notice the ruin he wore so naturally.
She walked up to him, her hips adapting a sensual sway the closer she got. He watched as she wrapped toned arms around his neck and kissed him.
'Heh! Always the same tricks.'
He grinned against her lips and dipped his hand into the wealth of her midnight cascade, grasping a fistful of hair, he pressed her against him, deepening the kiss. And despite the itch in his mouth, the churn in his throat, he numbed his instincts and indulged himself one last time.
'I forfeit the war, to win a battle.' He felt his eyes droop, and he couldn't help but chuckle.
Naesh felt her eyes sting. Despite herself, grief slipped in, like a blade inching toward her heart. It had only been a few months; it was supposed to be a simple contract. Yet somehow, she'd grown fond of him. The man she was slowly killing with a kiss. There would never be another like him.
Duty was a fickle thing.
She wished she'd been raised in ignorance, like the princesses in films — blissfully naïve, untrained in restraint. Maybe then she would have chosen her heart over the cold rationality that had been carved into her since childhood.
A heavy hand settled upon her head, she looked up and met his eyes, they were dipped in emotion she was sure he had never expressed. His coal eyes glowed as if fresh from a furnace. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips, his life force slipping away. His caresses became slower.
"You have done well, my Naesh. I leave everything in your hands."
And like a dying star, strength burst from within him, he pushed her away and picked up the wakizashi beside him, unsheathed it, the blade bright against the light. Without any further departing words, he spared Naesh a glance and grinned wild, his face splitting with demonic glee, and plunged the sword – down to the hilt – into his chest.
For a heartbeat, she almost reached for him, almost begged him to stop. But he'd already made peace with his end. And in that fleeting silence before the blade struck, she realized she loved him too late.
He died by his own sword, upright, like a bronze god of solitude. Naesh rushed toward him, tears now unrestrained streams down her cheeks. His body was still warm, but his heart wouldn't last.
'Damn you, Zalach, you knew all along.'
She was partly relieved that she wasn't the one to kill him, but sorrow was still the same, with his heart, a portion of hers was lost as well. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a peculiar stone carving of a swan.
That was odd, Zalach preferred wooden carvings, of beasts nonetheless. She...she loved exotic birds.
Composing herself, she walked toward it, beneath the obsidian swan was a golden envelop with green accents. Naesh slit it open and skimmed through the contents.
"Haha," she chuckled nervously, fresh tears bursting forth, "You sly bastard."
It was a Will. Zalach was handing her his life's work, effectively freeing her from the clutches of her elders. She was now at the top of the food chain.
Everyone now answers to her.