I was in my private study, surrounded by stacks of confiscated Ravenhurst ledgers and a very large, very cold glass of white wine, when the candle flickered.
A shadow detached itself from the heavy velvet curtains. Most noblewomen would have screamed. I just reached for my red ink pen.
"You're late," I said, not looking up from the Duke's fraudulent wine-import records. "And you're tracking mud on a rug that technically belongs to the Imperial Treasury now."
The man in the black mask froze. He held a curved dagger that looked sharp enough to slice through a budget deficit. "Lady Elara von Lexen? I am the last thing you will ever see."
"Cliché," I sighed, finally looking at him. "Let me guess. The Duke of Ravenhurst hired you? What's the contract? Three thousand Gold Dragons? Half upfront, half upon delivery of my head?"
The assassin blinked. The tip of his dagger lowered slightly. "Five thousand. And I'm a professional. I don't talk about my rates."
"Five thousand? Oh, Ravenhurst is more desperate than I thought. That's nearly his entire remaining liquid capital," I tapped the ledger. "But here's the problem, Mr...?"
"Shadow-Step," he growled.
"Right. Mr. Step. Ravenhurst's accounts have been frozen as of four hours ago. That 'half upon delivery'? It's never coming. The bank will bounce your check faster than a disgraced courtier. You're currently working for a man who is, legally speaking, a pauper."
The Counter-Offer
The assassin hesitated. I could see the gears turning behind his mask. Assassins are essentially freelance contractors, and no freelancer likes the words 'frozen accounts.'
"I don't believe you," he spat.
"Hans!" I called out.
The door opened, and Hans walked in, carrying a heavy iron box and a stack of legal documents. "Yes, Principal? Oh, are we being murdered? I'll come back in five minutes."
"No need, Hans. Show the gentleman the 'Notice of Asset Seizure' for the Ravenhurst estate."
Hans held up a parchment with the King's official seal. The assassin leaned in, his eyes widening as he read the cold, hard facts.
"Now," I said, leaning back and crossing my legs. "I have a vacancy for a 'Head of Physical Security and Asset Recovery.' The pay is six thousand Gold Dragons a year, full dental, and a bonus for every corrupt noble you help me intimidate. Plus," I leaned in closer, "I actually have the money to pay you."
The assassin looked at the dagger in his hand, then at the pile of gold coins Hans had conveniently left on the table.
"Does the dental include reconstructive surgery?" he asked tentatively.
"Only if it's an on-the-job injury," I replied. "So, Shadow-Step, do you want to be a bankrupt murderer or a well-paid Imperial Auditor?"
The Prince's Approval
A low chuckle came from the balcony. Kaelen stepped inside, his own blade already in hand. He looked disappointed that he didn't get to kill anyone.
"You're hiring the man who was sent to kill you, Elara? That's either brilliant or incredibly suicidal."
"It's cost-effective, Kaelen," I said, gesturing for the assassin to put his mask away. "Why kill a perfectly good resource when you can put him on the payroll? Besides, I need someone to watch my back while I'm busy watching everyone's pockets."
Kaelen walked over, his eyes lingering on the assassin before settling on me. "You're building an army of bureaucrats and cutthroats. Tell me, Principal... when you finally 'retire' to those islands, do you plan on taking the whole Empire's staff with you?"
"Only the ones who know how to keep their mouths shut and their ledgers balanced," I smiled. "Which reminds me, Kaelen... I noticed your 'Personal Security Fund' has a few discrepancies. Shall we audit your accounts next?"
The Prince actually took a step back. For the first time, the Assassin Prince looked genuinely afraid.