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LUOCRE
WHAT FUCKING IDIOTS.
The thought is dispirited. The truth is, I am disappointed.
“I really expected more from the royal family,” I murmur to myself.
I am standing several paces from the entryway to an estate belonging to one of the cousins of the King. It is a very flashy residence. Actually, residence is not the right word for it.
It’s almost a palace – a five-story mansion, with multiple decorative pillars at each corner. Torches are attached to every pillar, and flames spit and spring from them, highlighting the beauty of the estate.
I stand completely still in the shadow cast by one of the pillars that is attached to one of the enormous gates that are built around the property. The gates are ten feet tall, and sharp spikes made of diamonds top each gate. Soft white light burns in the core of each diamond, lighting up the night dangerously.
I have already scoped out the place, several days ago. These things take a lot of preparation.
There are at least thirty miou guards roaming the grounds of the estate armed with swords and crossbows. Inside the colossal mansion are fifty more. I know this because I attended a party here three nights ago.
Guards and high, spiked gates are not the only things that keep the residents of the mansion safe.
No. They have used magic, too.
“He must be paranoid,” I cannot help but chuckle darkly to myself.
Heshouldbe paranoid.
I can see the outline of the spells etched onto every windowpane. To the untrained eye, the spells are invisible.
But I can see them. I can feel them.
They shimmer brightly as if calling for my attention.
He should be paranoid.
I move then. Silently.
Because right now, a shift change is happening with the guards inside the estate.
This job, I must admit, has taken more preparation than most. I have dealt with high-profile targets before – I don’t deal with just anyone – but this one was particularly taxing.
Maybe because he knows that multiple people want to kill him,I think as I make my way to the back of the estate and grab hold of a low-hanging Tiphe tree branch.
Lord Marzui is one of the richest dark elves in the city. First cousins with the King.
And he has pissed off a lot of people.
I laugh silently again as I vault myself over the wall.
They actually fucking pooled their money to pay me for this.
I remember the moment when I was presented with the job. I was almost incredulous at receiving the information that instead of one affluent client, this job had multiple clients who were willing to pay four times my normal fee.
“Just to get Lord Marzui in the ground,” I murmur.
There are very few lights on this side of the property, the greatest flaw in Lord Marzui’s security. Guards will patrol here after the shift change, and the stink of protection magic is strong, but it is still an easy entry point.
As I look around the estate and listen to the raucous laughter from the miou who are about to start their shift, the place feels almost familiar.
Maybe because I have been staking it out for weeks. Maybe because I have attended three parties at this very estate, pretending to be a visiting dignitary, for which I had to wear an unpleasantly itchy white wig. Maybe because I have learned everything there is to know about the estate and about its residents.
