Blades on Birthday Morning
Elijah watched the assassin charging toward her amid the guard knight candidates with utter boredom. It wasn't the first time. There were plenty of other ways to sneak in disguised like this. She didn't even need to react.
Her view was suddenly blocked. By the back of her maid, Lia. Then came the unpleasant sound of flesh tearing and bone slicing, bursting forth crisply. Blood pooled on the floor. She could see it trickling into the spot Lia hadn't covered, but Elijah remained impassive.
Groans rose from the applicants.
"Miss, are you alright?" Lia asked without turning around.
"Yeah."
Elijah answered indifferently.
"Sir Gawain."
"Yes, Miss."
He replied while wiping the blood from his sword. He was the one who had cleaved the assassin in a single stroke.
"Clean this up and come to the office."
"Understood."
Since they accepted applicants regardless of background, incidents like this were inevitable. Elijah knew it, and so did the Bebel family. No one bothered to point it out or fix it. It was pointless anyway. As long as Gawain was there, no one could kill Elijah. Unless they'd undergone special training for years, maybe. So Elijah let the environment slide. Tracking assassins back to their sources helped pinpoint her enemies more concretely.
Days like today were common, but there was one unusual element. All these applicants had been screened by Narcissus. In other words, she could pin the assassination on Narcissus.
But that bitch wouldn't have actually planted an assassin.
She was obvious, but not stupid enough to play such a transparent hand. An assassin emerging from her picks? It was too blatant—practically sloppy. Narcissus knew full well she couldn't assassinate Elijah like this. So why slip one in? It was just handing her an excuse.
That meant it was the work of a force meticulous enough to slip past Narcissus's screening.
The Assassins' Guild...
A faction as tricky to handle as the information guild. The darkest blade on the continent, moving only on commission.
But they wouldn't send someone this sloppy.
Not the Assassins' Guild, then—but a spy from a faction skilled enough to fool Narcissus's eyes.
A shadow corps.
The Assassins' Guild was reserved for flawless executions. They had the skill, but they cost a fortune. So most factions ran their own internal dirty-work squads instead. Those were called shadow corps.
The Bebel family had one too. The "Black Spot."
But that bitch couldn't have mobilized the Black Spot.
Like most shadow corps, they answered only to the family head. The Black Spot was essentially Valak's. Even Narcissus couldn't use it for personal errands.
Who the hell is it? Who's trying to kill me?
No one came to mind. She hadn't done anything to personally earn enmity. But enemies of the Bebel family? If they saw killing the family's easiest target—the illegitimate daughter—as sufficient revenge? Or if they aimed to weaken Bebel by eliminating a dangerous young mage?
Still, no specific person or faction surfaced. Not because there were none. There were too many to narrow down.
A faction with a shadow corps, but ignorant of Bebel internal affairs. Even summarizing traits leaves too many...
She'd investigated previous assassins' trails multiple times, but none had yielded useful intel on her foes. And now this, piling on when she was already busy. Annoying.
Before she even reached the office, Miguel came rushing over.
"Miss...! Are you hurt anywhere?!"
"Miguel. What is this undignified behavior?"
"Forgive me, it's just..."
"I'm fine."
"Thank goodness."
Miguel let out a deep sigh of relief. Elijah gazed up at him quietly. It reminded her of Judah from last time. Judah looking down at her collapsed form. That uncomfortable expression was still an unsolved riddle. Miguel's face just now resembled Judah's then.
It resembles it, but... something's different.
Judah had been worried for Elijah. But Miguel was worried about his own position if something happened. Elijah couldn't quite pinpoint the difference.
"Miss? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's nothing."
They arrived at the office during the brief pause. Gawain was already there. Elijah stood them both before her and issued curt orders.
"Their official identities are obviously fake. Dig into their real backgrounds. Especially don't miss any proof they were handpicked by the Duchess."
Maybe she could finally take down Narcissus, who had nothing to brag about but her blonde hair and blue eyes. The key was always pretext.
"Understood."
"And Sir Gawain. Report."
"Yes. The weapon was a small razor. Inspection confirmed no poison on the blade."
It was one of the staple weapons of assassins sent for her. Razors, crudely sharpened stone knives, glass shards. Easy to obtain and conceal.
"They likely dropped it on the ground and hid it in the sand, retrieving it at the right moment. Nothing else noteworthy."
"Got it. Replace everyone who handled item checks today."
"Will do."
She didn't mention docking Gawain's pay. He knew anyway.
"Miss, I have something to report."
Miguel bowed politely.
"Speak."
"The Bebel family members have arrived. The Duke wishes to join you for breakfast..."
"No."
"Understood."
Elijah gazed out the window with half-lidded eyes. Family she hadn't seen in months, excluding Narcissus, had come. For her birthday. Unlike other guests, they'd arrived early as family, but she had no desire to see them.
What a hassle...
They hadn't come to celebrate sincerely anyway.
"Keep today's incident quiet. Don't let it leak outside."
Gawain, Miguel, Lia. Her three closest aides. Not true allies. They were selected by the main family for surveillance. So she couldn't stop the family from learning. Her best was just delaying leaks beyond them.
Miguel and Gawain left. Elijah ate breakfast in her private dining room. Rare delicacies filled the table, and servants kept bringing more until it overflowed. She scanned them with indifferent eyes.
Food some would never taste in a lifetime. Spices worth enough to sustain someone for months, sold by the handful. She was nobility. Upper class, ruler, rich. Today too. For her birthday preparations, some household had spent a fortune no common family could dream of.
The arriving gifts were so numerous they needed separate storage. Many held rarities no single person could ever afford to touch.
So she wondered. Recent studies said the richer you were, the happier the tendency. The poorer, the opposite. Then why wasn't she happy?
What even was happiness, to begin with? She'd never thought herself happy. She didn't know what it felt like. Did she have to be?
Was unhappiness not allowed? She'd once felt something like it, but now even that emotion escaped her. Though confined, there had been a time of vibrant colors. Trying to recall now, it dissolved into gray mist.
Common scholarship, society, culture—all exalted happiness. Portrayed it as the absolute value to worship. Elijah couldn't understand.
Expensive, delicious food. Rare jewels. Priceless gifts. None made her happy. Not anymore. Color had vanished from her world. A grayscale landscape of shades alone. Faded scenery under thick clouds and fog.
"I'm done eating."
She set down her spoon. She'd barely sipped the soup. Just enough to wet her throat. No appetite. Not because it was her birthday. Not because of the assassin attack.
She was always like this.
What to get Elijah as a gift? I didn't agonize long. No matter how much I thought, I couldn't know what would satisfy her.
That didn't mean I picked carelessly.
"I'll go with this."
Richard eyed the gift and chided me gently.
"...Judas. Uh. Well. The miss is young, sure. Yeah. But that's kinda..."
I'd chosen a doll. A black cat doll stretched out long, sleeping peacefully. It vaguely resembled Elijah. The difference? Its eyes were calmly closed in sleep. You rarely saw Elijah that serene.
So it was also a wish for her to live more peacefully. There was some stereotype that kids liked dolls too.
Perfect for hugging or resting on. So soft and plush.
Elijah hugging it in sleep... Unimaginable. Whatever, I probably wouldn't give it anyway.
"I've already decided."
Elijah was precocious, so she might hate it. Any other gift would be the same. I'd shopped around, but this was my best shot. It looked best to me.
"...Fine. It's your money. What can I say?"
Richard couldn't break my stubbornness. Anna looked like she wanted to dissuade me but stayed silent. The wrapped box looked decent enough. Which made me uneasy.
If it looks decent to me, won't it seem like trash to a grand noble like Elijah?
That unease grew when I met my comrades.
"Ooh, looks pretty fancy from the outside."
"Surprisingly, the miss might like it."
My comrades, who'd arrived at Elijah's mansion first, tossed comments. Their faces soured when they heard it was a doll.
"Gifts, uh. It's the thought that counts. Yeah."
Dillon tried to dress up my taste somehow. Following Anna's lead, we entered the mansion. Usually quiet, it buzzed with people. A spectacular sight of lavish, ornate carriages lined up.
The guests were dazzling too. All nobles in splendid suits and gowns—gentlemen and ladies. They glanced at us, frowned, and whispered. Eyes screaming, Why are those here? Anna guiding us at least got us recognized as guests. Without her, we'd have been chased off.
A few comrades shrank, but Richard and Dillon rallied them.
"What're you slouching for? Shoulders back, you lot."
"We're legitimately invited guests. No need to cower."
I was unfazed; I came here often.
"Sir Judas. The miss's gifts are being collected in one spot. Let's head there first."
Anna said. Makes sense—with so many gifts, handling them one by one would be impossible. What the comrades said about gifts and wrapping. Elijah liking it or not didn't matter; it wasn't worth fretting.
"A gift for the miss?"
The butler inspecting gifts that day looked down at me and sneered.
"That kid from the annex, right?"
"Yes."
"Thinks she's something just 'cause the miss took her in temporarily."
He didn't hide his disdain. He mocked me openly, insulting me outright.
"Know your place. Do you even grasp what this place is...? You there."
"Yes. Maid Anna."
"Get that stinking brat out. Make sure they never show their face again. What if theft happens—who'll take responsibility?"
Anna was a maid. Low-ranking even here. So I understood her not arguing back.
"My apologies. We'll leave."
"Tch. No wonder with a mansion lord like that... letting in every riffraff..."
He muttered like spitting. I couldn't catch it all as we walked away.
"I'm sorry, Sir Judas. I didn't expect such outright rejection."
"No, it's fine. Not your fault, Anna."
It pissed me off, but unavoidable. I endured. My roommates grew even more sullen. Some kept glaring back fiercely.
The butler smiled politely at other nobles.
"Stop staring. You'll get us in trouble."
Dillon reined them in rationally as we followed Anna. To the central hall. Where birthday girl Elijah would soon appear.
But...
"Hmph."
Someone blocked our path. Voluminous blonde hair piled high, dress fanning wide—textbook noblewoman. Cold blue eyes looked down.
"Ah, um..."
As Anna faltered, the mystery noblewoman spoke.
"I wondered where that foul stench came from—turns out it's gutter rats scurrying about. How do they even manage this mansion...?"
She fanned herself, muttering as if to herself. Then smirked at me with one corner of her mouth. Clear mockery.
"Well, with beggars like you crawling around from the start, a few sewer rats aren't surprising. Is this really a noble's birthday banquet or a sewer...?"
"......"
I'd held back so far. Nobles whispering behind, butler dismissing my gift. Half-expected. I endured.
And dealing with these cowards who wouldn't confront directly was a hassle. Not the only reason. We were Elijah's guests. Special ones who normally couldn't even enter. Starting trouble would disrespect her. Basic courtesy to our host. So I endured.
Enduring meant tamping down anger, not being unaffected.
But when someone provokes openly like this, I have to bite back.
I didn't care who this noblewoman was or her family.
"Hey, lady. What'd you just say?"
The auntie's blue eyes flew wide.
"A-a-a-aun, aun... auntie?!"
Her lips trembled as she spoke. Utter disbelief. Onlookers gaped at me.
And I had no intention of stopping there.