Peony's Blade

Chapter 3

    Serielle observed the training grounds, her lips turned down into a scowl. Ten rows of men moved in one fluid motion, jabbing at the air in front of them with long, gleaming glaives. Their shouts rattled the air for a beat, all in near perfect unison. A single man stood before them, tall, proud, yelling out their next form of action with acute pronunciation, emphasizing his orders with a cut of his hand.

    The soldiers all turned, lifting their left legs, and kicked. Impeccable form. Serielle’s scowl deepened. No doubt someone had informed the general of her visit. She wouldn’t have been surprised if some of those trainees were already up in the ranks. He always liked to show off, the arrogant snake.

    Reia stood quietly next to Serielle, her head bowed in quiet respect. Still, Serielle noticed her maid shooting furtive glances at the training ground, and Serielle bit down hard enough to hurt her jaw. There was no doubt who Reia was peeking at, and it only made Serielle’s resentment burn deeper.

    He was making her wait. She was a princess of Paeonia, daughter of King Siul Wei, someone he’d sworn his loyalty to, and he was making her wait under the pretense of training his already remarkably well-trained men. As if Serielle couldn’t see right through him. As if she was a fool.

    Despite the winter chill, the soldiers were shirtless and sweaty. The general barked one last order to disperse them before finally deciding that Serielle could have his time.

    “Princess,” General Rejin Tal greeted, bowing lower than necessary for a general. An obvious mockery. He never did like that he had to be so respectful to someone three years his junior. “My apologies for keeping you waiting. Shall we proceed inside?”

    Serielle bit back a retort, knowing full well what he was trying to do. She raised her chin in anger, in defiance, hiding her trembling fists beneath the wing that was attached to the top of her two-piece dress. It was made specifically for winter, padded on the inside with fabric woven from deerskin. A single flap on the front, also lined with smooth, soft fur, provided shelter for shivering hands, which now worked effectively to hide Serielle’s only display of anger.

    “Lead the way, then, General.” Somehow, Serielle managed to keep her voice steady and regally arrogant.

    Rejin’s smile didn’t falter as he turned around. His sleek, black hair was tied into a braid, swishing against his strong muscled back. Serielle followed him, snapping her eyes to Reia when she caught the maid watching him. Reia dropped her gaze with a slight blush coloring her cheeks. Rejin, to Serielle’s chagrin, was popular in the palace for his youth and high rank. At the mere age of twenty-four, he had climbed up the ranks, landing his current position only a year before. Though the general liked to think it was his skills and cunning mind that had earned him his place, Serielle knew it was his close friendship with Deru that had ultimately pushed him up the ranks. It certainly helped that he had a way with charming his way into the royal family, and he’d found himself in quite a favorable light in the king’s eyes.

    They entered the building, Serielle and Reia taking their shoes off for warm indoor slippers (also lined with furs), and Rejin marched on through the wooden path. Upon moving deeper, the cold melted away, and Serielle’s reddened nose was returning to its natural shade.

    The walls were made of white wood, broken by sliding doors that led into record rooms, offices, or meeting rooms. It was one of these that Rejin stopped at. He slid open the door and entered. Serielle, with a sharp, pointed look that told Reia to remain outside, followed into the wide boxed room. Reia shut the door without a word.

    The room was nothing remarkable, occupied only by a single large table and eleven chairs surrounding it. There were boxes littered near the walls, some spilling over with documents and scrolls, and a hook hung from the ceiling to hold lanterns, but it was otherwise bare and devoid of decorations.

    Rejin pulled out a chair and took a seat. “So, what business does the princess have with a humble general? I must say, I was quite surprised that you wanted to see me. I thought you’d never want to speak to me again.”

    Serielle managed to stop her eyes from rolling. She stormed over to Rejin and slammed her hand on the table. “I’m not here to make amends, General.”

    Rejin met her eyes, unflinching, unremorseful. He pursed his lips. “I thought as much. Then, what is it you’re looking for?”

    Serielle breathed in, taking hold of her anger and pulling it back. She crossed her arms.

    “Last night, a Viper intruded the palace and tried to kill my brother. Tuli is dead.”

    For a brief, inconspicuous moment, Rejin’s expression dropped into that of sorrow. He frowned, masking whatever emotion it was with that of a distant displeasure of the palace guards' poor performance.

    “A breach in the palace, you say?” Rejin drummed his fingers against the table. “And by an assassin, no less. How do you think I would help?”

    “You know of the Shadows,” Serielle said. “I know you were acquainted with them once.”

    “The Shadows?” Rejin stood, his frame towering over Serielle.

    She stepped back, narrowly avoiding any form of contact, and squared her shoulders. It didn’t alleviate the difference in height, and Rejin’s well-defined chest was bringing back memories Serielle wanted to bury in the past.

    “I want to know where to find them,” she said.

    Rejin shook his head. “No. You don’t want to deal them. If you’re concerned about the palace security, I can help, but involving the Shadows in this is a bad idea.”

    “That wasn’t a suggestion, General.” Serielle curled her fingers into fists. “I want to find the Viper who tried to kill my brother. This isn’t just a matter of security. I’m going to show whoever hired the assassin that they’re messing with the wrong people. I’m going to catch the Viper who attacked him and have him executed for his crimes.”

    “And what will you do if you find a Shadow?”

    “I’ll have him watch over me and Deru. I’ll have him keep an eye out for the Viper.”

    “Don’t you see how dangerous that is?” Rejin held up his sword. Scars marked his knuckles, but he still held his weapon with pride. Perhaps the scars were also a source of his pride, proof of his training, a panoply of his achievements. “As long as I am bound by my loyalty to the crown, I cannot allow an assassin to linger inside the palace. It’s too dangerous.”

    “That’s not for you to decide.” Serielle glared up at him. “You said Shadows were loyal to their clients. If I’m a client, the assassin will have no choice but to follow my orders. His only mission will be to find the Viper and capture him. No assassinating, no trouble.”

    “You put too much faith in what I say.” Rejin dropped his arm, and Serielle inched back when she saw the familiar affection in his eyes. “I’m somewhat relieved. I thought you won’t believe another word from me after what happened. But my answer remains the same. I don’t want you to mingle with them. They’re killers. You have no business with killers.”

    Serielle knew it was a mistake coming to Rejin for help. She should have just gone to the city and tried to find the Shadows herself. She shouldn’t have relied on him of all people to aid her in catching the Viper.

    “Only a Shadow can catch a Viper,” she said.

    “And only a Viper can catch a Shadow,” Rejin replied. “What makes you think your Shadow will be successful. For all you know, he might get killed by the Viper first.”

    “That’s why I’m going to find the best. I’m going to find the one they call Blade.”

    The temperature seemed to have dropped. A cold silence washed over them, and Serielle held in a shiver. Her arms prickled with the chill, though she wasn’t sure if it was winter or Rejin’s icy gaze that made her feel this way.

    “No,” he finally said. He leaned against the table and crossed his arms.

    “General, I am the princess. I demand you tell me how to find him.”

    “With all due respect, Princess, I refuse.”

    A boiling rage melted away the chill that had settled over Serielle. Her glare rivalled Rejin’s, fire against ice. Either she would be snuffed out, or he would c***k.

    “General!” Serielle was running out of ideas. She knew how stubborn Rejin could be. Perhaps, he was even more stubborn than she was, and that was a near-impossible obstacle to overcome. “Then, are you suggesting that we allow an assassin to run rampant, killing off the royal children one by one? What other option do we have? A Viper snuck into the palace that had more than fifty guards on patrol and at least another twenty standing guard at entrances. I will not rely on guards to keep my brother safe!”

    “And you think an assassin would fair any better? You’ll let your guard down. Who’s to say that he’ll strike you down when you least expect it.”

    “He won’t have any more clients, then.” Serielle didn’t know how she was standing still. She wanted to throw her arms up, hit Rejin until he agreed, storm away, but she managed to keep herself together. “That’s not what Shadows do.”

    She knew she’d struck a cord when his shoulders sagged. Rejin set his sword on the table, pushed himself off, and strode towards her. Serielle was torn between backing away and standing her ground. She chose to remain still, expecting him to stop before he got too close. He didn’t, and Serielle held her breath when he stopped within an inch away from her.

    “You were always so hardheaded,” Rejin murmured softly. He didn’t hesitate when he brought his hand up and traced her cheek with his knuckles. “I don’t think I’ve ever won in an argument against you.”

    Serielle swallowed, not liking the intimacy one bit. Or was it that she didn’t like that she still felt the shivers and tingles of his touch? Even after a year, she hadn’t grown out of it.

    “General!” Serielle bit out, her fingers flexing as she pondered if she should slap his hand away or press it onto her cheek. “What do you think you’re doing?”

    “Are we really hopeless?” Rejin asked. “I…missed you, Seri. I really did.”

    Serielle pushed against him, hot rage sparking at his use of her name, at the lie that he threw in her face. But, Rejin had anticipated it, bracing himself so she was the one backing away.

    “Only Deru gets to call me that,” Serielle hissed. “You have no right—”

    “That’s not what you said when we were in bed.” Rejin crossed his arms, daring her to respond.

    Serielle scoffed in disbelief. How dare he? How did he have the gall to say that after he’d used her to get his position?

    “It was one time,” Serielle bit out through gritted teeth. “A mistake that will never repeat itself. I was young, naïve, stupid. I won’t ever fall for it again. You got what you wanted, Rejin. You used me, you made me think I was in love with you, then you threw it all away. You have no right to say you missed me.”

    “It wasn’t a mistake for me.” Rejin glared at her. “And I did no such thing. I never used you for anything, Serielle.”

    “It was convenient that you went after Jessa Ran as soon as you were appointed general, then. A mere day after we shared a bed.”

    Rejin winced, and Serielle knew she’d won the argument. It didn’t make her feel any better, however, and she could feel the suffocating need to cry rising from her chest.

    “Serielle…”

    “That’s enough!” Serielle whipped her hand down to emphasize her point. “I am a princess that you serve, not your mistress. I’ll take what I came here for and leave you to get back to work. Tell me where I can find the Blade, General. Now.”

    With a sigh of resignation, the general complied, using the ink, brush, and paper at the head of the table to write down the steps she had to take to contact a Shadow and ask for a specific assassin by name. He fanned it to help dry the ink. It took a few minutes, but soon, it was dry enough that it could be folded.

    Before he handed it to her, Rejin said, “I’ll only give it to you, Princess, if you let me come with you.”

    Serielle opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand.

    “I speak as your general, Your Highness. What soldier would I be if I allowed the princess to walk into a den of assassins all by herself? I’m coming with you, Princess. That is the only condition.”

    Serielle glared at him but nodded. “Very well. Hand it to me.”

    She snatched the paper from Rejin the moment he held out his hand and exited the room, snorting to herself in the brief moment that she was sure no one would see her. Rejin was a fool if he thought he could bargain with her. Tonight. She would find Blade tonight, and as long as she didn’t let Rejin know when she was leaving, she knew she could leave without him. Serielle gently slipped the paper down her sleeves and joined Reia at the hall.

    A rare smile made its way onto her lips. She would find Blade by herself. She had no idea why Rejin thought she would comply with his demands. She was the princess of Paeonia. If she wanted to go find the assassin on her own, no one could stop her.