Night had settled over the kingdom.
Lunar light spilled across the fountain statue, stretching its shadow over the stone.
Master stood within it, a glass bottle of wine in his hand.
Kairav arrived at a run, stopping just short of him before bowing.
Master offered no immediate response.
He took a slow sip from the bottle, allowing the silence to linger.
“You fought well against Sendrav,” he said at last, his tone light, almost pleased.
“Your induction as a Royal Bounty Hunter… makes things easier for me.”
Kairav remained still.
“Most doors in the fortress are now open to you,” Master continued.
“No explanations. No resistance.”
A brief pause.
“When does your basic training begin?”
“Next week. The schedule hasn’t been confirmed yet.”
Master nodded once.
“Good.”
He took another sip.
Then, without emphasis—
“Your first task is to hunt the assistant librarian in the royal library.”
The words landed without buildup.
Kairav showed no reaction.
“When and how?”
Master studied him, amusement flickering in his eyes.
Not at the question, but at the absence of anything else.
“For now, observe. Study the surroundings. I’ll tell you when to move.”
“As you will, Master.”
Kairav bowed.
Master continued watching him.
“I’ve already trained you well. Basic training won’t matter. Use that time to understand blood weapons.”
A small pause.
“And accept Yani’s offer.”
Kairav hesitated—barely.
“Master…”
“Hmm?”
“This situation… with Yani and her friends… it feels… off.”
Master’s gaze settled on him.
“I didn’t try,” Kairav continued.
“Yet they pulled me in. Today… they dragged me to celebrate.”
A quiet laugh escaped Master.
“Isn’t that what we wanted?”
Kairav said nothing.
A beat passed.
“Master… you taught me that if something comes easily… if it comes free… then you are either the product or the bait.”
His gaze remained steady.
“So, given that… isn’t this odd?”
Master took another sip.
This time, slower.
“Yes.”
He lowered the bottle.
“You are the product.”
Silence settled between them.
Kairav didn’t question it.
“There is no harm in being the product,” Master continued, “if you understand the transaction.”
He stepped slightly closer.
“If they use you… you use them better.”
A pause.
“Position matters. Not sentiment.”
Kairav nodded.
He understood.
At dawn, Mervil rode deep into the forest.
A small wooden cabin stood alone among the trees.
He dismounted, entered, and lit an oil lamp.
A table.
Three chairs. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
A single bed.
Two wooden cabinets.
Nothing more.
He sat.
Time passed.
Two masked men entered—one wearing dark blue, the other silver.
“My Lord.”
They bowed.
“Report.”
The man in the dark blue mask stepped forward.
“Your suspicion was correct. She was seen by multiple local clairvoyants during that period.”
Mervil’s gaze sharpened.
“So, the possibility that the late Queen Amaranda came into contact with her… is stands.”
He leaned back slightly.
“It would explain the sudden rise in Late Queen’s abilities.”
Silence followed.
The silver-masked man spoke carefully.
“My Lord… is this the secret we are looking for?”
Mervil leaned back.
“One of many.”
He tossed two pouches of Sona coins toward them.
They caught them instantly.
“My Lord, you are generous.”
“If you do your work properly,” Mervil replied, a faint smile returning, “I don’t mind rewarding obedience.”
A pause.
The silver-masked man hesitated.
“My Lord… there is something more.”
Mervil’s eyes shifted toward him.
“Speak.”
The man drew a breath.
“Rumours suggest… former King Nishumb is alive. He has been spotted in the Kingdom of Vaitarna.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Then—
“Get out.”
The words came quickly.
Sharp.
The silver-masked man dropped to his knees.
“My Lord, I would never joke about this—”
The man in the dark blue mask stepped forward.
“Multiple sources confirm it. Something is happening.”
Mervil leaned forward.
His eyes changed.
The playfulness vanished.
“Boys…” His voice lowered, steady but heavy.
“I was there when that bastard died.”
He took a step forward.
“I saw Clasida’s sword go through that filthy flesh.”
A pause.
His eyes held a deathly stare.
“I saw how Clasida’s axe sliced his head off.”
His hand slammed against the table.
“And now you’re telling me that filth walks again?”
The informants trembled.
“My Lord… we are only reporting what we found…”
“If there is even a fraction of truth in this,” Mervil said, slowly settling back into his seat, “then this is no longer a rumour.”
He paused.
“Watch it. Closely. Miss nothing.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
They bowed quickly before leaving.
Silence returned to the cabin.
Mervil sat with his eyes fixed ahead as dawn crept through the trees.
Then a human shadow fell, of a female
A woman entered, wearing a white-and-red mask.
She was dressed in a deep red, Kanakavathi-inspired drape, secured tightly around her body for ease of movement.
A broad kamarbandh encircled her waist, concealing weapons beneath its elegant design.
She moved with the grace of a lioness.
“My Lord seems tense,” she remarked, her voice carrying a faint tease.
“Speak.”
She inhaled.
“The former maid of Queen Amaranda and her daughter… are dead.”
Mervil rose instantly.
“How?”
His voice cut through the room.
“I told you to report anything unusual.”
“It was ruled an accident.” she answered.
He stepped forward, seized her mask, and pulled it from her face.
His hand closed around her throat.
“What if it wasn’t?”
She didn’t resist.
Didn’t flinch.
“My Lord… every breath I take belongs to you. Do as you wish.”
She held his gaze.
Her dark eyes were large, prominent, and deep-set, standing out sharply against her long, angular face.
Their intensity gave her an expressive, almost predatory presence.
“My investigation suggests it was an accident,” she continued.
“One of my sources was present.”
A pause.
Then, calmly—
“I also secured these”
She raised two small glass vials containing fresh blood.
Mervil released her.
He took the vials from her hand.
“What about the granddaughter?”
“She’s with the Chitkins.”
Mervil’s expression shifted.
“So, the former Queens maid was one of them.”
“Yes. We suspected this earlier.”
The woman walked toward her mask and lifted it.
“I’ll assemble a team,” Mervil said.
“We take the granddaughter. No risks.”
She stepped closer.
“I know someone who can help.”
A pause.
“A Yaksha.”
Mervil’s lips curled slowly, intent gathering in his expression.
His arm moved around her waist, pulling her closer.
Not gently.
Not roughly.
Just… claimed.
She didn’t resist.
Her hands rested on his shoulders with familiar ease.
“Then it’s yours,” he said quietly.
“You and that Yaksha. Bring me the girl.”
His grip tightened slightly.
“The only living link to the Queen on that island.”
“As you will.”
She leaned in.
Their lips met in a brief kiss.
Not tender.
Not emotional.
A confirmation.
She stepped back and secured her mask in place.
“See you soon, my Lord.”
Her fingers trailed across his torso before she took a step back.
Then she waved and turned away, leaving with a lethal elegance.
Mervil remained standing, staring at the vials in his hand.
The game had shifted.
And so had he.