Chapter 9:Whispers of the Crimson Throne
1163 Words
A razor-edged wind slashed through the Ayanami estate just before dawn, carrying with it the raw, metallic scent of blood and death. When sunlight finally splintered over the distant hills, it found servants stumbling into the courtyard, gasping at the assassin’s lifeless body sprawled beside the old moss-caked well.
Panic didn’t seep in—it detonated with violent force.
“An assassin—inside the estate?”
“How did anyone breach Lord Ayanami’s walls?”
“Is this the beginning of an attack?”
Fear crackled in the air, voices rising in sharp, overlapping waves. But in the midst of the chaos, Kairo stood unmoving, silent, a solitary island in the torrent of confusion. He simply watched as panic spread, weaving through the crowd. There was no need for him to intervene—he preferred this chaos, the way it pried open the careful shells people built around themselves. Fear made people careless, and when people were careless, secrets slipped out like water through cupped hands.
Lord Ayanami crashed into the courtyard, his presence a thunderclap that cut through the turmoil, rage radiating off him in visible waves.
“Turn this place upside down!” he roared, his voice shaking the morning air. “I demand answers before the sun sets!”
Soldiers scattered at his command, their armor clattering, vanishing down corridors and through gardens. Across a patch of dew-laced grass, Kaori watched Kairo. She noticed, with a sharpness that surprised her, how he didn’t recoil at the sight of death. He didn’t feign surprise, didn’t mimic the frantic fear that gripped the others.
He knows something, she realized. He saw this coming. He’s already moving to deal with it, quietly, behind the scenes.
A dozen questions tangled on her tongue, but she held them back, waiting for the right moment.
Later that morning, Kairo found himself in the war pavilion—the estate’s beating heart in times of crisis. The walls were crowded with maps, red lines slashing across borders, black ink marking threats and alliances. The very air was taut with tension, humming with the energy of men and women preparing for conflict. Lord Ayanami swept inside, Kaori close behind, his earlier fury now sharpened into a lethal, icy focus.
“Kairo,” he barked, his voice echoing off stone and paper, “tell me what happened last night.”
Kaori’s gaze flickered over Kairo’s face, searching for cracks, for the truth hiding behind his calm.
Kairo bowed his head, the image of humility and loyalty.
“I sensed someone slip through the courtyard,” he said, each word measured. “But by the time I reached the well, someone else had already killed him. It was quick. Efficient. No mess left behind.”
Only half a lie. The best lies always had a vein of truth running through them—enough to make them indistinguishable from honesty.
Lord Ayanami slammed his fist on the table, the sound ringing out like a warning shot.
“Someone in my house can kill an assassin without raising an alarm?” His glare pierced the shadows lurking in the corners. “Is there a traitor among us?”
Kairo met his gaze, cool and unwavering, giving nothing away.
Let him worry, let suspicion take root. Fear could make even the boldest men spill secrets they’d sworn never to reveal.
Kaori stepped forward, her voice gentle but carrying a quiet urgency.
“Kairo… what do you think? You always notice what others miss. Is there something we’re overlooking?”
There was something new in her tone—a softness, a carefulness that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t the cold, distant Kaori he remembered. She was reaching out, trying to bridge a gap.
Lord Ayanami’s eyes narrowed, flicking from his daughter to Kairo, seeing the subtle change. Something in him shifted—he was beginning to see Kairo as more than just a loyal retainer.
He’s starting to see me for what I really am.
As the day waned and the mountains stretched their dark shadows over the estate, trouble was simmering far from the Ayanamis’ walls. In a shrine veiled by ancient woods, a masked spy knelt before a master cloaked in shadow.
“The assassin failed,” the spy whispered, head bowed. “He was dead before he could complete his task. Someone else intervened.”
The master’s voice was cold, edged with suspicion.
“Who intervened?”
The spy hesitated, words hanging in the air. “There are whispers. Someone with no elemental mark. No trace left behind. Like… a void.”
A hush fell. The hooded master stiffened, the word hitting like a curse.
“A void?” His voice was strained, wary. “That means only one thing—someone using forbidden power.”
The spy swallowed, fear tightening his throat. “Shall we move to the next phase?”
The silence lingered, thick and heavy. Then, at last—
“Yes. Begin the Crimson Hunt. If the Ayanami family is sheltering one who wields forbidden force… we end him now, before he becomes a threat beyond our control.”
Back at the estate, beneath a cascade of falling sakura petals, Kaori found Kairo. He stood alone, the pale blossoms drifting down around him, painting the ground with fleeting beauty. He looked tranquil, almost serene—a man who seemed untouched by danger, even with a hunter’s mark on his back.
“Why aren’t you afraid?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Kairo didn’t turn. “Fear is for those who still have something left to lose.”
Her expression softened, vulnerability flickering in her eyes.
“And you… you have nothing left?”
He almost smiled—a tiny, fleeting thing that nonetheless sent her heart tumbling.
“I already lost everything,” he replied, voice hollow but true.
Kaori stepped closer, a warmth spreading in her chest that felt both perilous and necessary. It was the kind of feeling she’d always been taught to guard against, but now she let it bloom.
“Kairo… if my family’s in danger—”
He turned to face her at last, and for a moment, she thought she saw a faint, unnatural red glimmer in his eyes, as if something dangerous smoldered just beneath the surface.
“I’ll handle it,” he said. The words sounded like a promise, but the weight behind them felt more like a warning.
“And Kaori… stay close to me now. Don’t wander off. Not tonight. Not while the shadows are moving.”
Her breath caught, her heart thudding in her chest.
“…Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling with the realization that everything was shifting beneath her feet.
He turned away, letting the encroaching shadows curl around his form like living things.
“They’re not after your family,” he said, pausing so the truth could settle between them, cold and inescapable. “They’re after me.”
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