Sleepless Assassin and Sleepless Lady
Assassins who can't sleep—and ladies who can't sleep either—tend to have that side to them. They're in a line of work where they can't afford to reveal themselves to anyone, so they've made a habit of moving in absolute secrecy, undetectable even to others. An assassin trains their hearing to pick up the slightest sound, but they move so stealthily that even that heightened sense misses them entirely. Which is why...
"Huh."
"Eh?"
Such ridiculous situations crop up now and then. Like running into a fellow assassin at your kill spot. This was the third time in Chloe's life.
She'd chatted briefly with the first two and sent them on their way, but this one... 'Gonna have to kill him.'
Right below where the guy stood on the roof was the window to Marian's bedroom, where she lay sleeping. He was clearly targeting Marian, so there was no reason to let him live.
As that thought crossed her mind and she reached for her dagger—
"...?"
The assassin across from her waved his hand in a "hold still" gesture, then pressed a finger to his lips—quiet. Then he mouthed the same word over and over: Who?
Who? You mean who am I here to kill...
If their targets matched, it'd spark a turf war between colleagues, but if not, it could usually be brushed off. The guy who'd locked eyes with her on the rooftop was probably just confirming that...
But if their marks overlapped, it'd get messy, so she couldn't give a straight answer. Chloe pondered for a moment, then mouthed back.
You?
I asked first.
Of course, the other was an assassin too. One bold enough to infiltrate the Grand Duke's castle had to be skilled. Not a pushover.
Evergreen Grand Duke.
So Chloe threw Haksen under the bus. Few had heard directly that he was bedridden from an assassin's poison, and even if they had, he'd just think she was an extra hitter sent by allied forces. That sliver of complacency would give her the opening to take his throat.
Ooh, nuts... how'd you snag that gig?
What?
I mean, you know how many assassins went after that guy and got shredded? You're not planning a solo charge like an idiot, right?
Was it professional courtesy? The other assassin on the roof offered advice like it was his own business.
Pretty face, and the legal wife's getting on. Plenty of openings to seduce your way in, no? You weren't seriously gonna try a straight hit? Won't end well.
That was the plan...
Really?
Chloe gave vague answers while scanning the assassin's stance for weaknesses. The longer the talk dragged, the harder it'd get to keep bullshitting. She'd strike the moment an opening showed...
Then—
"Something's off. The Grand Duke's quarters are the other way!"
The assassin drew his dagger and lunged at Chloe without warning.
"Tch..."
No chance to exploit a gap now—she drew her own dagger and countered. Knife fighting. Rare between pros, so neither was a master, but they traded blows competently enough. Chloe's raw talent in unarmed combat made up for it. No one could match her technique.
"That uniform—Evergreen Guard, huh? Guess the Grand Duke hires assassins after all."
"Who knows. Can't say."
"Not bad for a girl. How'd you catch his eye?"
"You cool making noise like this? Guards'll be here soon."
"Why? Can't handle me alone?"
Short barbs flew as both gripped a second dagger. Four hands, four blades clashed wildly, sparking in the dead of night.
Annoying... if I had my old body...!
This guy wasn't that strong. As Edwin, Chloe would've devoured him in seconds, exploiting reach and skill gaps. But in Chloe's body? No dice. Her shorter arms could only parry; her reduced stride couldn't close visible openings.
Shit...
Biting her lower lip, Chloe kept trading blows. Sweat-slick hands fumbled daggers sometimes, but spares from her bosom fixed that easy.
Won't cut it... gotta carry poison next time...
Even against another assassin, she couldn't secure a sure win like this. Next time, coat the blades with paralytic venom...
That was for later. Right now, how to end this? That was Chloe's biggest headache.
"Scared? You're sweating buckets."
"Shut up..."
"Feisty!"
Daggers kept breaking, openings taunted but stayed out of reach. Grimacing at the impasse—how much time passed?
Why's the castle security so lax? How long's it been...!
No reinforcements to turn the tide. No way... an artifact!
Worse—no one was coming. She'd felt the mana pulse of an artifact activation. Stalling wouldn't work. Realizing it, Chloe switched to offense.
"Guh!"
Clang! Both right-hand daggers flew.
"This...!"
Clang! Left-hand ones followed.
My knife work's leagues above.
Risky, but both were disarmed. Just draw faster and stab first.
No more...?
Chloe's face twisted. All spares spent.
Fine.
No daggers? No problem. She had wrist blades. A snap ejected one—she lunged for his throat.
But—
"Gah..."
Before the blade pierced, his hand clamped her throat and slammed her onto the rooftop.
"Kek..."
"Hah... you scared me, bitch. Short-armed runt pulling a blade? Nearly gave me a heart attack."
Snap, clunk. He ripped the wrist blades off both arms with his free hand.
"This is why girls can't hack it. Assassins who sell their bodies? Only good for backstabs."
He grinned viciously. One hand crushed her throat with masculine grip strength; the other fished for a heart-stabbing dagger.
Like hell I'll die like this!
Thud! Teeth gritted, Chloe stomped the roof with her heel—and drove the blade from her boot toe...
"Guhhh...!"
Deep into his ass.
#
"Ugh, can't sleep..."
Marian grumbled and cranked up the bedside sleep lamp.
The past three days since she'd arrived had been thrilling. Compared to the twelve years rotting alive in a forgotten corner of the castle, unseen and untouched.
"Want more juice..."
Especially the kiwi-strawberry mix—delicious. Back when the legal wife and her kids were alive, Marian had been half-dead, unable even to ask for basics, let alone treats. Just hole up like a dead rat.
Three straight days of human contact—beyond the maid bringing food and clothes—was a first. No wonder sleep evaded her.
"Want juice tomorrow too..."
She looked forward to Chloe's tomorrow juice. Might be paints again, a bit depressing, but somehow it'd be tasty again. Juice didn't even matter. What counted was someone talking to her.
Chloe coming was enough. Just Chloe. If she played like the past days, anything would do.
Anticipating tomorrow, she lay down to force sleep.
"Mommy yak!"
Thud! A vibration followed the crash. Something hit the roof right above her bedroom.
And twelve-year-old Marian grew curious even at trifles. The world outside her window was one of her few toys; scrutinizing its tiny changes, her favorite game.
She clambered down and toddled to the window.
"Gasp!"
Something streaked past—short-haired man with a long golden-haired something riding him, plummeting together...
"Chloe!"
Marian knew one blonde: Chloe. Falling from the roof?
"D-don't die..."
People die falling from roofs. Would Chloe? Then no seeing her tomorrow... no playing...
Swirling worries; she scanned outside for Chloe. Not hard to spot.
"Why's she dragging him?"
Chloe gripped the man's nape, hauling him off somewhere. Marian's mind whirred to a conclusion.
"A thief!"
Chloe was her teacher. Teachers taught. Teachers were good. Thieves were bad. So good Chloe caught bad thief.
"Gotta ask tomorrow!"
Paints were fun, but Chloe's stories too. She'd ask for sure. Decided, Marian dashed from the window to bed, hugged her quilt tight, and giggled.
"Sounds fun."
Life brimmed with joy since Chloe arrived. For Marian, every day sparkled.