Chapter 21: The Client
The room was far too polished for anything remotely comfortable. The floor was marble, white with veins of gold. A chandelier hung overhead, made of crystal that probably cost more than everything I owned combined. I stood in the corner, arms folded, watching the double doors.
They opened with a soft creak.
And there she was.
The same woman from the alley. The one who dropped the satchel. Who left behind the prism now sitting quietly in my coat pocket like a ticking time bomb.
But she wasn't running this time. She walked in with confidence, chin high, posture perfect. Her dress was a deep violet with silver trim, the fabric flowing like water. Her long blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders, glowing faintly under the chandelier's light. She looked noble. Untouchable. And very, very dangerous.
I didn't let any of that show on my face.
She stopped a few steps away and gave me a once-over. Her expression was calm, unreadable.
"You must be my escort."
"Lysander Caspian," I replied, keeping my voice neutral. "I assume you're the client who needs guarding while attending a fancy party full of people who smile with knives."
She smirked at that. "Quite the poetic summary."
"I aim to please."
She walked past me to a table set with refreshments neither of us would touch. "I'm Seraphine Vale. I trust they gave you the details of the arrangement."
"More or less."
"Good." She turned, crossing her arms. "Then let's go over it again. You accompany me to the Starcrest Gala. You stay within ten feet of me at all times. You do not engage unless I am in clear danger, and you do not speak unless spoken to."
I raised an eyebrow. "You do know I'm a mercenary, not a butler."
"And yet you were paid handsomely."
Fair point.
"Why the Starcrest Gala?" I asked. "It's not exactly a picnic. Nobles, politics, assassins hiding behind wine glasses."
She hesitated, then said, "It's a private event hosted by the Thornbridge Family. I have business with someone attending."
"Business that might involve people wanting you dead?"
Her eyes didn't flinch. "Possibly."
"Great. I love possibly dying for vague reasons."
She smirked again. "You're sarcastic."
"Only when I'm conscious."
She paced slowly, her heels clicking against marble. "This isn't your average escort mission. There are factions within the capital that would prefer I not attend. Political ones."
"So... you're important."
"Important enough."
"And the gala? What's so special about it?"
"It's more than a party. It's a stage. Every deal, alliance, and betrayal in the next year begins at this event."
"Sounds like a great time. Should I wear a tie or just bring extra bandages?"
"Both, perhaps."
I leaned against the wall, watching her carefully. "You're calm for someone expecting danger."
"Calm is a mask."
"Then you wear it well."
She didn't smile at that.
Instead, she walked to the window and looked out. The sunlight outlined her silhouette, casting soft gold against the pale blue of the sky.
"Is this your first time guarding someone of status?" she asked.
"No. Just the first time I might already be involved in something without knowing it."
Her head turned slightly. "Meaning?"
I shrugged. "You dropped something. I picked it up. Now I'm here. Feels like fate. Or a trap. Could go either way."
She tilted her head. "Did I drop something important?"
"I'll let you know when I figure out what it is."
For a second, something flickered in her eyes. Recognition? Amusement? Guilt? I couldn't tell.
Then she said, "We leave at dawn. Carriage arrives before sunrise. Be ready."
"Wouldn't miss it."
She turned back to the window.
I left the room, the prism heavy in my pocket.
Something told me this job was going to be more than it appeared.
But then again, it always is.