Peony's Blade

Chapter 8

The door with the crescent moon stood separated from the rest of the pleasure house. It truly was a room for the wealthiest patron, and Serielle surmised that the House of the Golden Sun had once been an establishment for the elites.

She took a moment to glance around her, making sure no one was watching. The cloak pulled at her throat almost as if to protest her decision to seek Blade in a bedroom. A ridiculous thought. Perhaps Serielle was more nervous about the meeting than she’d thought. Her legs held an unfamiliar tremble, and the thick sweetness in the air was nauseating. Both of these she carefully hid behind a porcelain mask and controlled confidence.

With a soft knock to announce her presence, Serielle opened the door and slipped inside the room. A large bed was the first thing that drew in her eye. Silky sheets wound tightly around the mattress and a red curtain was tied by a golden rope. A small candle flickered on a low end table, sheening the curtain with a soft orange glow. Letting it drape around the bed truly would set a romantic atmosphere.

Other than the bed and small table, there was a larger, round table and chairs made for enjoying a drink, currently decorated only by a single rose in a vase. This room was designed for the use of a patron and his chosen courtesan. There wasn’t much else it really needed.

Serielle stepped further into the room. There was no sign of anyone being inside. Had the courtesan lied? Or perhaps there was another room marked by a crescent moon.

Or, the Shadow was hiding in the dark.

“If you’re here, show yourself.”

In response, the candlelight whooshed out, throwing the room into total darkness. Serielle barely had time to regain her sight before a sudden force yanked her back into a hard, warm surface. An arm wrapped around her and what Serielle identified as a cold blade grazed her neck. It took everything in her to keep her arms at her side.

“Blade,” she breathed. This had to be him. She couldn’t even hear him approach.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t slit your throat.” His voice was low, intense. She could feel his hard chest rumbling against her back like a growl from a tiger. A warning of his lethal grace, of the sharp claw he held to her neck, ready to strike if she made one wrong move.

Serielle had no doubt he could kill her within a second. It was a delicate situation, but she had been taught all her life how to handle delicate. She schooled her expression, relaxed her tense shoulders. Diplomacy never did pose a problem for her.

“I am Serielle Wei, princess of Paeonia. Any harm you inflict on me will be returned to you tenfold.”

He barked a laugh, his breath hot against her ear. She held in a shiver. “I never suspected the day would come when a little peony comes crawling into my lair.” He lifted her chin with the cold flat of his blade. “So, tell me. What business does a rose without thorns have with merciless killers?”

Serielle remained still, neither tensing nor relaxing. The moment to strike had come. “I want you to be my thorns.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “No. Thorns merely prick. I want you to be my blade.”

Blade took a moment to ponder her request, his dagger still held lightly under her chin. Had it been any other man who threatened her so, Serielle would not have shown mercy, but Blade was her key to vengeance and an asset that would keep her and her brother afloat in the volatile politics of the palace.

It seemed to take a millennium, but Blade finally lowered his weapon and released her from his suffocating grip. Serielle kept her posture unchanged and waited for the assassin to make his decision. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark now, but Blade was nothing more than a black shadow gliding into her vision. The fluidity in his movement allowed him to blend into the darkness. A man fit to be called a Shadow, Serielle mused.

He struck a match to light the candle, washing the room in the warm orange glow that had greeted Serielle before. She took the chance to inspect the man she sought to hire, expecting a grizzled veteran behind the reputation. The face she saw could be considered grizzled, but it was by no means old. His deep-set eyes were hooded, almost black, studying her with cold calculation and a dangerous glint of intrigue. His dark hair was tied back to reveal a scar cut into his well-defined jaw.

Most dangerous of all was his body. Every inch of him was covered in black, from the belt around his waist to the boots that softened his steps. His dagger was nowhere to be seen, likely tucked away in a hidden sheath within the black folds. His stance was casual, feet slightly apart and arms crossed over his chest, but every movement he made simmered with lethal precision. Serielle had no doubt that he could appear before her in a flash and slit her throat within half a second if he wanted. The fact that he chose to reveal himself was a very good sign.

“Your blade, you say?” he echoed. “And what, pray tell, do you suppose I’m meant to do?”

Serielle trailed her fingers over her neck, where his dagger rested just moments before. Blade’s eyes followed, and she was struck by an unexpected heat from his gaze. She was quick to catch herself and maintain her composure. The negotiation needed to go her way if there was any chance for him to agree to work for her and melting into hysteria like a helpless girl would likely get her killed. She suspected it would take more than her title to lure him to her side.

Pity wouldn’t work, nor would seduction. She didn’t know if money would entice him either. Her lessons in diplomacy never covered the basis of negotiating with hired killers. Still, she wasn’t going to give up without a fight. Blade had given her his time. She would make him give her more.

“A dagger aims for my throat every day,” Serielle said. “I need you to get rid of it.”

His eyes narrowed. A knife materialised in his hand and he twirled it once before catching it.

“You understand what I am, don’t you, Princess?” His voice was silky, threading around her with each word. He barely seemed to move, yet he was suddenly beside her. As she suspected, his speed was precise and silent, almost otherworldly. He circled around her like a tiger stalking its prey. “If you need a personal guard, I’m sure you have plenty at your disposal. Now why would you want a Shadow to watch your every move?”

“Unfortunately, my enemy is one only you can handle.” Serielle remained relaxed and unbothered. Her heart pounded in her ears, but her voice rang steady and strong. “A Viper threatens my nest, and I need you to kill it.”

Blade paused and his lips peeled back into a sneer. “A Viper, eh?”

It was the reaction Serielle was hoping for. Sharing an enemy could forge a strong alliance, she’d learned. But would it be enough?

“He’s hiding somewhere in the palace. The guards won’t be able to find him while he’s infiltrated royal grounds. I need a specialist, the best one there is. Tell me, are you not considered the best in your field?”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Payment won’t be an issue. Name your price, Blade.”

He pondered over her offer, twirling the black knife in his hand. Then, he nodded and sheathed it within the folds of his robe. “Very well. I accept. We can negotiate our prices in due time, but first,” a shadow wisped over him, seeming to seep through his clothes, “These are the terms of my service. Accept them and I will work for you.”

Serielle nodded, granting him permission to continue.

“During the period of our arrangement, I belong to you. Whatever command you make, I will follow without question. Give me a goal and I will reach that goal no matter the cost.”

The room darkened, though the candle was still lit, its pitiful flame flickering in a desperate fight against the shadows that encroached it. Blade appeared before her, his eyes burning into hers with such intensity that Serielle almost looked away.

“No matter the cost,” he repeated. “Should I kill anyone while I carry out your command, that death will be in your hands. For my complete servitude, all responsibility falls on you.”

“As expected,” Serielle agreed.

“Next, understand I have other obligations. There will be times I will be expected to tend to my other contracts. Questions about my other clients are strictly forbidden.

“Third, there are rare occasions when your orders may clash with orders from another. In these cases, both orders are voided unless you are able to buy out my contract. Fourth, our arrangement ends when I achieve your goal or if I fail to follow your orders.

“Lastly,” Blade swiftly grabbed hold of Serielle’s arm and moved her onto the bed, his movements so fluid that Serielle hadn’t even realised they had travelled any distance. The candle that once lit up the room was a pinprick of light, the darkness reigning over it like a mist that shrouded everything.

Her back was on the bed, and Blade leaned over her, his body pressed up against her. She felt the powerful muscles beneath her touch as she tried to push him away.

“What is the meaning of this?” Serielle bit out, her voice hoarse despite her best attempt to sound angry. She may have been a princess, but in this room, she was at the mercy of his power.

“There is an additional cost that will bind me to your will.” Blade watched her, his face unreadable as he held up his hand to show her something black and shapeless swirling above his palm.

Impossible.

“This is my shadow,” he stated as simply as if he was talking about the weather. “My darkness, my sin. Call it what you want. It will become a part of you, taint you with the mark of my name. So long as you bear it, I will always know where you are. Accept this and I will be yours.”

For the first time since forming her plan, Serielle faltered. She’d heard rumours of Shadows possessing a strange power, but she had never imagined they could be true. Was it worth staining her body with this man’s darkness to kill a Viper that had failed to kill Deru?

She knew Rejin would object, but if not a Shadow, who could protect them from a Viper? No. She couldn’t hesitate. Power always came with a cost. It was the very reason she sought out the Shadow that had her at his mercy. If she had to sacrifice her humanity to protect the one person she had left in this world, then so be it.

“I accept,” she said. The shadow swallowed her words. She ignored his proximity, ignored how human he felt on top of her. “Protect me and my brother and catch the Viper hired to kill us. Avoid bloodshed unless absolutely necessary. Those are my commands.”

“Very well. Show me where to mark you.”

Fighting the tremble in her hand, the fear that threatened to spill into the open, Serielle gently grabbed his wrist and guided the ball of darkness down to her thigh. His hand felt large against her leg as he pressed the shadow into her. It seeped through her dress and a sharp sting began to carve into her skin. Serielle couldn’t stop the wince. The pain was too unexpected. She hoped it would have been too dark for Blade to have seen her reaction, but he watched her intently, already savouring the discomfort he inflicted upon her.

When the stinging sensation ceased, Serielle knew there was no going back. She had what she came for and the powerful weapon she needed to survive was finally hers to wield.

Blade stood and waited for Serielle to sit up from the bed. The glow of the candlelight gradually returned, revealing his tall imposing figure. He got down to one knee and bowed his head.

“Princess Serielle Wei.” Her name sounded strangely pleasing in his voice. “I am Blade, at your service.”