Peony's Blade

Chapter 12

It didn’t take long for Blade to learn the princess’s schedule. She lived a busy life, attending lessons every day and spending her time with various hobbies in the leisure of the afternoon. These included embroidery, gardening, hosting noble ladies, shopping, music, poetry, horseback riding, and strategic board games. At night, if she wasn't busy, she took a walk around the palace.

With every interaction, she gave a perfect response, whether it be lightly laughing at her guest’s humour, ordering the servants to purchase a garment, or requesting her teacher to review a difficult topic, everything she did was a premeditated reaction.

Even now, as she recited an ancient poem with impeccable inflection and rhythm, she kept her expression carefully stoic. Whatever emotion she let slip was a controlled fabrication.

“This poem is about a man who laments the loss of his lover and the impossible distance of time between them,” Blade said as the princess’s recitation came to a close. “I’ve never heard it sound so dispassionate.”

“Your opinion is impertinent.” As usual, she was unaffected by his words. It was evident poetry wasn’t a subject she enjoyed yet she spent time in the afternoon learning the most eloquent poems. The obvious conclusion was that her hobbies were more about appearances than enjoyment.

Blade shook his head. He would never understand how royalty could live such stifling lives, though he supposed he wasn’t one to talk. It had been a few weeks since he had entered the palace, and his master had finally summoned him.

“Poetry is about baring your soul.” Blade didn’t know why he even bothered. She was a stubborn woman and likely valued his thoughts as much as a bug squashed under her shoe. “If you will excuse my impertinence, it doesn’t quite suit you.”

Serielle glared up at him, the piece of paper she had written the poem on clenched in her hands. The fierce determination in her eyes blazed into him. There was a fiery tempest buried under that perfect mask she wore, and Blade wanted to see it burn. He had no doubt the fire within her was viciously beautiful if only she’d unleash it.

“Then what do you suppose suits me?” she challenged.

“What do you truly enjoy, Princess?” Blade responded.

She fell silent, her face emotionless as she thought over his question.

“I apologise if I step out of line, but poetry doesn’t suit you because you don’t appear to enjoy it.”

“I do enjoy it,” she retorted, her eyes flickering once more with that burning fire. They both knew she was lying, but Blade wasn’t here to argue about it.

“If you say so, your Highness.”

Serielle put the piece of paper down, the large sleeves of her dress caressing the table. She packed away the ink and brush she had been using to write.

“Any progress on the Viper?” she asked.

They were secluded in a pergola with guards out of earshot. The open area allowed them to see anyone approaching, and the cold winter wind provided them with a strange sort of privacy to discuss his mission without fear of being caught.

Blade shook his head. “It’s unlikely he’ll strike again so soon. Tracking him will be difficult in the palace if you wish to keep my identity a secret. It would be best to wait until he makes a move.”

“You want to wait until he makes another attempt at the prince’s life?” Serielle allowed a sliver of her anger to slip through. “Are we to do nothing until he takes a chance to kill us?”

“Not quite.” Blade ran through the information in his mind. Something didn’t seem quite right about the attack. He had various suspicions he couldn’t yet divulge to the princess. “Do you have an idea of who hired the Viper?”

The princess took a moment to think, her lips pursing ever so slightly and her brows knitting together. She met his eyes, and Blade was reminded of the first night they met, of her soft, warm body pressed against his.

Fuck.

That was a line he could never and would never cross.

“This is only a baseless hunch,” she said carefully. “It could be anyone in the palace, but my brother mentioned Prince Hino. He’s the son of Queen Yuno of the Pink Court and might be a prime candidate to be the named heir if Deru was out of the way.”

A solid motive to wipe out the red peonies.

“However,” the princess continued, “Queen Yuno is not the only one who may want to kill us. Queen Isa of the Yellow Court also has a history of wanting us dead. She could easily have been the one to hire the Viper, too. As it stands, both of them will benefit from Prince Deru’s death.”

“We’ll have to keep a close eye on them, then,” Blade said. “If the Viper was hired by one of the royal courts, he won't act so rashly after failing to kill the prince. They’ll want to be sure the next attempt is successful. We’ll be able to catch the Viper once we figure out who let him into the palace.”

“I see. Catch the head of the snake, is that right?” She was quick to pick up on his reasoning. She might have been an arrogant royal and slightly spoiled, but she possessed a cold intelligence that couldn’t be overlooked. It was refreshing to have a client who understood their arrangement. Whatever goal he was to achieve, Blade would do so in whatever method he thought was best whether the client agreed with it or not.

“That's right. And if we know what his next move is, we might be able to set a trap to catch him.”

The wind picked up, and the paper lettered with poetry fluttered wildly beneath the ink block. Serielle was already planning her next course of action, and if Blade had read her right, she was going to find a way to dig for information. Blade would have planted spies, but the princess would likely choose a more direct approach considering the only person she seemed to trust was herself.

“Princess Ryusha’s birthday is coming up next month. The Pink Court will be busy preparing for her party. I'll pay them a visit as a courtesy to my half-sister. If Prince Hino or Queen Yuno had anything to do with the attack, I'll find out.”

As expected. Blade inclined his head. “I suspect the Viper won't attack before the party.” Even if the Pink Court hadn't hired the Viper, the suspicion was too convenient for the culprit not to take advantage of. The Viper would lay low while they were busy. “In the meantime, we'll have to familiarise the palace with my presence.”

“Agreed.”

There were other arrangements Blade wanted to make. He had already scoped out the palace layout and knew the names of every staff working in the Red Court. Even if Serielle didn't trust them, he had his eye on a few that would be quite useful.

“I believe that's all for now,” Serielle said. She folded up the papers and handed Blade the tools she had been using.

Blade took them without complaint. It was usually a servant's job to clear the ink and brushes, but there was a good reason he was the only one there.

“Actually, one more thing,” Blade interjected. “I will not be here tomorrow night. I recommend you refrain from your nightly walk until I return and ensure the prince doesn't leave his quarters after dark.”

She stood, ready to make her way back to the Red Court, and smoothed out her dress. “Very well.”

Not a hint of curiosity, Blade noted, though he had no doubt she had questions burning inside her if her search for information at the library had been any indication. The secrets of the Shadows were kept well hidden away in a place much older than the royal library, however, and there was no chance the princess would find anything other than rumours or known interactions within the palace.

They crossed through the courtyard, going over the bridge resting over a large pond and through the garden. In the middle of winter, the shrubs were full of snow and no flowers bloomed. The princess paused in front of a line of fleshy red stalks. Snow clung on with frosty fingers, claiming them for the winter.

“The impossible distance of time,” she murmured. Her pale hand reached forward to brush the snow away. There was nothing performative in her gentle movements, and Blade remained still so as not to ruin the moment. “Tell me, Lupi, do you believe in the afterlife?”

Blade fought the frown tugging on his lips. He would have to get used to that ridiculous name. Her question was just as strange. Despite being an assassin—or perhaps because of being an assassin—Blade never allowed himself to dwell on what happened to the lives he took. The afterlife was a concept far beyond him, and he had no desire to entertain the notion of meeting his victims when his time came. It was something he lost long ago when he was still being forged into the weapon he was now, a weakness drawn out of him so he could be as hard as steel.

“Why concern yourself with the afterlife when this life gives you more than enough to worry about? Whether the afterlife exists or not, only the dead know, and the dead cannot give us the answer.”

“And yet they leave behind such a gaping hole that the living can only hope to see them again.”

She was referring to a line in the poem she had read. Perhaps she had understood its sorrow more than Blade gave her credit for.

“Did you lose someone, Princess?”

Serielle let out a breath, releasing a faint mist into the chilly air. She shook her head and when she faced him, she wore the emotionless expression he had become accustomed to. The moment of sincerity was over, almost as if a spell had been broken.

“Nevermind that,” she said softly. “I was only reflecting on the poem I recited. Let’s continue. I must prepare to have dinner with His Majesty tonight.”

“If you say so,” Blade murmured, matching her tone. Once a week, the king had dinner with his children. After the prince’s attack, he had given the Red Court some time to settle down. Now that the prince was fully recovered, they had been summoned.

So, Blade mused, it was time to introduce himself to the most powerful man in Paeonia.