"Nkiru."
The girl turned to look.
"Throw away the honey cakes."
Nkiru’s heart thumped.She tensed, her body shuddering as an abrupt feeling of fear settled on her, as though she were wading through mud.She bowed her head.
"Yes, Akwaugo."
After the girl left, Azul sat alone in the fading light.
The snake stirred in her sleeve, finally coming out now they were alone.Azul did not like it being seen by others and so trained it accordingly.It buried its head in the leftover herb paste, finding it rather relaxing.Azul paid it no heed; pushing herself off her table, she walked to the window.
The garden was quiet, shadows lengthening across the path as the sun set.
Somewhere out there, at her pavilion, a game board sat untouched.It was real, felt and experienced by more people than just herself.A game she'd barely understood, played by a woman she'd met twice.
Once when they were both children.
Once when they were both dead.
Azul didn't know what to make of this, but in a world where gods interfered with the dealings of mortals, she supposed spirits were not too far-fetched a concept to experience.
She recalled her walk back from that clearing; the weight of the game board had been greater than her recovering strength could stand.So she stopped at the well, too weak to carry it further, sitting on the stone edge to rest.
For a moment, the memory lingered, and a sad smile graced her lips.Indeed, the harem was full of wilting flowers.
Chapter 11
Nightsduringtherainyseason were considered a novelty; for once, one could sleep without breaking a sweat as the weather cooled, especially after rain.
So Azul was specifically miffed at being woken tonight.
Host, there are people…here.The little snake had woken her, and a while later the first man snuck in through her window.
The smell of blood permeated her room.Her eyes were wide open, staring at the padded wood that separated her bed from the wall.The crickets outside her window had quietened down, and all she could hear was the branches swaying in the breeze.
Are they here to kill me?
Numerous schemes she'd considered being executed against her; none quite included two men—one hiding under her bed, the other sneaking around her room searching for the other as if she didn't exist.
They must be trained professionals.That was the only way to explain their gall.
She tightened her hand under her pillow around the silver hairpin, specially made by the blacksmith Borji had recommended.She figured it would be a good day to break it in.
The man under her bed was injured.The stench of blood was so strong she struggled not to scrunch her nose, soon enough the other assailant noticed.
She heard rough grunting as a body was dragged out from under her bed and pressed against the wall away from her.
They hissed at each other like vermin, speaking in low tones.
A bunch of quacks,she thought, perplexed.From her experience, hired killers were so much better at navigating the bedrooms of others.
The injured man groaned as his back hit the wall.
Burning pain spread from the knife wound in his side like poison through his veins.
Ragnar Valthorne had survived worse.He had taken arrows, spears, and blades, so this simple wound shouldn't have affected him so badly.But this had been a coward's strike.A blade from someone he thought he didn't need to guard against.
