Peony's Blade

    The beginning of winter always stirred up a cold, harsh breeze during the night. One would think snow would be the first telltale proof of the coldest time of year, but Serielle had learned in her years of late-night excursions that winter liked to creep in. Slowly at first, during the darkest time of night when everyone would be fast asleep.     Then, it would bloom white over the country, disguising itself in ethereal beauty before striking with sharp, devastating blizzards and freezing homes. Seldom were there years when people didn’t die from the harshness of winter. Serielle blew at her hands. The smoky heat of her breath whispered into the air, disappearing under the yellow light of the moon.     The sky was clear tonight. Not a cloud slipped over the giant glowing egg that shone down on her. Serielle leaned against the red wooden banister of the bridge. The sleeves of her dress pooled over her wrists and hung limp. Black water glistened below, another moon rippling from its surface. A gentle splash reminded Serielle that there were fishes beneath the cold, dark surface, hidden under the moonlight. If she looked hard enough, she was sure she would catch a glimpse of their shimmery orange-white tails.     “Princess?” A voice broke through the silence. Serielle let out a sigh. Her maid, Reia stood at the edge of the bridge, tightly clutching the wooden handle of the only other source of light. She was a slight woman, her servant’s dress easily drowning her under their heavy frivolity, though her face was well-rounded. Her hair, though it had been tightly wound into braids, was beginning to break free into its wild, natural curls. Reia wasn’t the prettiest of women, but Serielle knew her servant was quite popular with the palace guards. Most probably, her large eyes and kind face easily made her likable.     “What is it, Reia?” Serielle asked, though she knew what the answer would be.     “It’s getting quite late. May I suggest you return to your chambers?”     Ultimately, it would be Serielle’s call to make, but she ended the peaceful walk at her servant’s suggestion as she usually did. Lifting her chin and straightening her back, Serielle gave the maid a nod.     “This way.” Reia waiting until Serielle reached the end of the bridge before turning around and holding out the paper lantern in front of her. The way back to Serielle’s chambers was long-winded, twisting through several small gates and passing by the main servants’ quarters. It was for this reason that Serielle liked to have her nightly walks to the bridge. The long walk did wonders to clear her head and give her mind some peace from the chaotic bustle of the palace.     They passed through the third gate, and Serielle was waiting for Reia to pull down the plank of wood that kept it shut when a rustle from the bushes captured their attention. Reia nearly dropped her lantern as she whirled around.     “Who’s there?” the maid called out, her voice trembling with fear. The rustling ceased. The hair on Serielle’s arms rose, but she stepped towards the bushes that lined the edge of the gate against Reia’s warnings.     “Show yourself,” commanded Serielle, squaring her shoulders and clenching her fists in an attempt to stop shivering in the cold. Show no weakness, show no fear, give the enemies no chance to strike. That was a lesson she’d learned young.     A moan ghosted into the night, and a shiver prickled Serielle's skin. Reia let out an unbidden whimper of terror. The small globe of light shook in her hands.     Serielle snatched the lantern from her maid. Ghost or human, she was to show no fear. She marched towards the bushes, stomping to hide the tremble in her knees.     “Who are you?”     “Seri…” The rasp sent spiders crawling over Serielle’s skin. She was half-glad and half-resentful that her maid was with her. Glad that she was not alone. Resentful because Reia’s presence meant Serielle could not back away from the terror.     “Seri,” came the wispy moan once more.     Serielle approached the bushes despite her instincts screaming at her to stop. She raised the lantern over the bushes, casting sharp shadows against the wall. A hand rose from the bushes, and Serielle barely bit back a scream. It wouldn’t have mattered. Reia’s frightened shriek would have drowned hers away.     “Help me.” The hand waved, and a dark liquid trickled down the wrist.     It took a few seconds for Serielle to calm her beating heart, and a few more for her to recognize that voice.     “Oh, Mother of gods.” The words slipped past Serielle’s lips before she could stop them. She snapped out of her shock and turned to Reia, who had thankfully stopped her earpiercing screams.     “Reia!” Serielle snapped. “Come, take the light.”     Her maid hesitated, fear widening her eyes.     “Now!”     Serielle’s harsh tone snapped Reia into action. She scuttled forward and took the stick with shaking hands. The lantern swung at the end of the stick, and the shadows danced.     Serielle crouched down and reached for the shoulder that connected to the outstretched hand. The stench of blood permeated from the warm body. Serielle swallowed the bile that stung the back of her throat. She forced her hands under the man’s shoulders and helped him up.     Deru was covered in blood, his skin redder than a blood moon, his hair matted and thick. Serielle could barely make out his eyebrows, but she was relieved to find his eyes wide open.     “S-Seri…” Deru whispered.     Serielle whipped her head around to Reia.     “Reia! Get the palace guards. Tell the captain there’s been a breach. We need at least two men here to transfer my brother to his chambers. The rest need to scour the area for any intruders. Then, I need you to go fetch a physician.”     Reia sputtered, blinking rapidly as she processed Serielle’s orders.     “Reia!” Serielle yelled, anger rising from impatience. “Now!”     “Y-yes, Princess,” Reia squeaked. “R-right away!”     Serielle watched the maid scurry away, hunched over and clutching her dress as she went. She briefly worried if Reia had heard anything she said, but a hand on her arm stole her attention.     “Deru,” Serielle said, her voice softening. He was the only one in the palace she’d ever allowed to see her soft. “Deru, what happened?”     Deru smiled through the wince. His lips were crimson, and Serielle took note of the wet stickiness that stained her hands. How could he still be alive after losing this much blood?     “I was so scared, Seri,” Deru murmured. He touched her hand and squeezed. “I thought I was going to die out here. All alone.”     Serielle couldn’t stop the concern that knitted her brows. Deru never admitted his fears. Not even when they were children. That he so easily admitted it sent a cold shiver down Serielle’s spine.     “You will not die,” Serielle promised, wiping the blood from his cheek. “You cannot die. You are the prince of Paeonia. You cannot die lying in the bushes like a slave.”     Deru chuckled. “Even now, you think of our duty. I admire you, Seri. I truly admire you.”     He groaned as he attempted to sit up. Serielle did not stop him, though she kept her arm up to support him.     “You shouldn’t move so much,” Serielle said. “We don’t know how bad your injuries are.”     Deru shrugged. “I’ll be fine. This blood is not mine. I managed to escape with only a scratch.”     The distant pounding of footsteps drew away the dark atmosphere that had settled over them before Serielle could ask for more information. She did not let her relief show through when the captain stepped forward with a lantern in hand. This one was smaller than the one Reia carried and hung from a longer stick.     She rose, hardening her expression, and faced him. Under the firelight, his weathered face was shadowed beneath his wide-brimmed hat. Still, Serielle could see his lips tugged down into a scowl.     “Princess,” he greeted. His gray beard moved stiffly as if it was straw attached to his chin rather than hair. As custom, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head. The guards behind him followed suit.     Serielle waved her hand. “This is no time for formalities, Captain. Have your men transport my brother safely and find out who was behind this treason.”     Captain Renal Gil nodded, and with a jerk of his head, had two of his guards rush to assist Deru. He stood, fury burning in those firelit eyes.     “We will find who did this, your highness. You have my word.”     Serielle lowered her chin imperceptibly in acknowledgement. “I have your word, Captain. But if you fail, my father will have your head.”     He bowed his head, then barked an order at his men. Deru groaned in the arms of the two guards, and Serielle struggled not to show any concern. The trio paused next to Serielle, the guards awaiting the captain’s orders.     “Prince Deru,” Renal said, bowing once more. “Please, forgive me. I have failed you.”     Deru waved his hand from atop a guard’s shoulder. “Yes, yes. I see that you have everything under control. Now, take me to my chambers. I need to wash this blood off before my skin stays permanently red.”     “Of course.” Renal stepped away, giving the cue for the guards to rush through. Serielle didn’t give the captain a second glance as she followed. The winter chill bit into her skin, and she glanced back to watch the guards search the area. They crossed the expanse in front of a single large building with a slanted roof that pointed upwards at the corner. Within it was the throne room and the king’s chambers hidden beyond. It was eerie to see it so empty and dark when Serielle was used to seeing it filled to the brim with bustling servants and the comings and goings of the elite members of the royal court.     Holding back a shiver, she tore her eyes from the imposing building and sped up to catch up to her brother. They reached another building, placed a good distance away from the main throne room. The guards halted, fumbling to take their shoes off. One hurried to help Deru while the other awkwardly held up his lantern.     Serielle was already atop the wooden platform in her socks, impatiently waiting for them to join her. She slid open the thin door made of rice paper and started down towards Deru’s chambers. The guards followed her, Deru groaning and hissing with each movement.     When they were outside his door, Serielle turned towards the guards. “I’ll take him from here. You two stay out here and make sure no one, except the physician, passes through.”     “Yes, Princess!” they said in unison.     Once inside, Serielle helped her brother to his bed. He refused and collapsed on the floor instead.     “I don’t want to get my sheets bloody,” he said, scrunching his nose.     “Deru, you’re hurt,” Serielle scolded. “We can replace the sheets. This is no time to be concerned about that.”     He shrugged and undid the straps of his royal garments before stripping off his robe. His baggy trousers, he kept on.     “See? It's not that bad.” Deru pointed at his right side, where blood gushed through. Serielle couldn’t hold in her gasp.     “Deru!” she fell to the floor, crawling closer in concern. “What happened? I thought you said it was only a scratch!”     He laughed, then winced. “It looks worse than it is. Trust me.” He bunched up a sleeve and pressed it onto his wound.     Serielle sat back on her knees, reluctantly accepting his explanation. The physician was on the way, so at least, he would be treated quickly if it was fatal. She looked at the blood on his face, his black hair, his robes.     “Deru, what happened?” Serielle asked, breaking the silence. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.     Her brother shrugged, but his eyes burned in a deep fury. “An assassin came for me. Killed Tuli, then took a shot at me when I ran off.”     He hung his head, shame burning through the blood. “Tuli gave his life for me, Seri. And I left him like a coward. Some tiger I’m supposed to be. I should have died.”     Serielle remained quiet in shock. Tuli was dead. Tuli, who had grown up with them, who was like a second brother to her, was dead. She couldn’t believe it.     “W-why?” Serielle hated the helplessness she heard in her voice, the weakness. “Why would an assassin come for you?”     Deru scowled. “Who knows? I’m guessing he was hired by one of Yuno’s kids. Probably Hino, considering he hates my guts. He was always the jealous type.”     Serielle blew out a breath, resenting palace politics not for the first time. Her father had three wives and a number of concubines. Out of the three, her mother was his favorite, making Serielle or Deru the most likely successor to his throne. This, of course, did not sit well with any of his other families. But to hire an assassin…Serielle sighed. What was she thinking? Of course, they would hire an assassin. She wouldn’t put it past them to do something so heinous just to get rid of the king’s favorites. Blood meant nothing for Paeonia's children. Or it meant everything. The same mother usually meant loyalty to the death.     “If this is true, I will—”     Deru cut her off with a palm. “It’s only a suspicion, little sister. I don’t want you snooping around. It’s dangerous. Leave it to the royal guard.”     Serielle scowled. “The royal guard let an assassin slip into palace grounds. You almost died. If anything, anyone who was guarding tonight should be hung by daylight.” She sighed, her stomach twisting at the thought of killing so many men. “But, nevermind that. You say an assassin tried to kill you. Did you see his face?”     Deru shook his head. “No.” He checked his wound and fiddled with his robe until he found an area that wasn’t soaked in blood. “But I know he was a Viper.”     Serielle pursed her lips. “A Viper, you say?”     Deru warily gazed at her. “Seri, whatever it is you’re thinking, don’t do it.”     Serielle huffed. “Whatever gave you the idea that I was thinking of doing something?”     “You get this look on your face.” Deru furrowed his brows and twisted his lips. He glared to the side. “This really intense look.”     Rolling her eyes, Serielle schooled her expression. She told Deru she wasn’t going to get involved, but a plan was already forming in her head. The arrival of the physician gave her the perfect opportunity to slip away without Deru giving her any more of his lectures.     The Vipers were a group of assassins that terrorized the streets of Sucosa, the capital of Paeonia. At least, they were one of them. For decades, perhaps even centuries, the Vipers had one consistent enemy. The Shadows. The two had a long history of push and pull, having turf wars every so often, killing thousands of assassins on opposing sides. An internal war that surpassed mere rivalry. Their methods were different. Vipers worked more openly and were easier to find. They were untouchable because they often ran errands for nobles and even royal families.     But the Shadows. They were harder to find. Working in the cover of night, with the strictest of terms between client and assassin, they were more mysterious. Not much was known about the Shadows, at least not as much as the Vipers. Most of what Serielle knew about them came from rumors, and she knew well that most rumors were not to be trusted. The two groups were as different as day and night, two extremes of the same occupation. But even day and night were lit by the same sun.     And if there was one thing the two groups had in common, it was that their rivalry ran so deep that one would eagerly disrupt his rival’s job.