The melodic voice froze Viscount Jesse in his tracks, its honeyed tone cutting through the haze of his irritation. He turned toward the room, hastily straightening his cloak and yanking off the coarse cloth masking his face. Using it to dab the blood still trickling from his nose, he took a steadying breath and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a deliberate push.
Creak!
The door's hinges groaned as it sealed him in the dimly lit room. His eyes adjusted to the faint glow of a single candle, its flame casting flickering shadows across a heavy curtain draped at the far end. He strode forward, his boots thudding against the creaky floorboards, and pulled back the curtain—only to reveal another, and a solitary wooden chair in the center of the room.
"Please, sit, Viscount Jesse," The enchanting voice called from behind the second curtain, its tone smooth and inviting.
Jesse's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as he fought the urge to rip the curtain aside and confront its owner. 'Who hides like this?' He thought, his pride chafing at the secrecy. Reluctantly, he sank into the chair, its wood creaking under his weight, his posture rigid with barely contained frustration.
"Are you here to place an order, Viscount Jesse?" The voice asked, its cadence almost musical.
"I'm here for an update on my previous contract," Jesse replied, his voice cold and clipped. "I already hired an assassin." That the guild's master recognized him didn't surprise him—his arrival in Lockwood City had been anything but subtle, announced with the clatter of knights and the weight of his noble title. What intrigued him was the woman behind the curtain. Her voice stirred something in him, a fleeting warmth that clashed with his calculated demeanor.
"Oh?" The voice carried a hint of surprise, followed by the rustle of papers being shuffled. After a long pause, she spoke again. "Viscount Jesse, you placed a bounty on a single target. The task remains incomplete."
"Incomplete?" Jesse's brow furrowed, his fingers digging into the arms of the chair. "It's been months!" Though he'd recently entertained the idea of capturing Lucas alive, the delay grated on him. The thought of the Sedona City lord slipping through the guild's grasp was an affront to his plans.
"An assassin accepted the contract," The woman replied, her tone even, almost indifferent. "It seems they failed. I'll spread the word, and a new, more skilled assassin will take the job soon."
Jesse leaned forward, his voice urgent. "I don't want Lucas killed anymore. I want him alive—whole. Broken limbs are fine, but not a drooling idiot. I need his mind intact."
The Western Lands buzzed with tales of Sedona City's rise under Lucas's rule. In mere months, he'd transformed a backwater into a thriving hub, a feat that both fascinated and envious Jesse. 'A man like that could be useful,' He mused. If Lucas could be persuaded—or coerced—into serving him, his strategies could elevate Jesse's own ambitions. And if he proved defiant, Jesse had ways of breaking even the strongest wills.
"You wish to alter the contract?" The woman asked, surprise lacing her voice. "From assassination to abduction?"
"Yes," Jesse said, nodding firmly. He'd assumed the original contract would have been fulfilled by now, Lucas's body cold. The assassin's failure was an unexpected twist, but it aligned with his new plan.
"That requires a modification fee of ten gold coins," The woman said, her tone flat.
"Ten gold coins?" Jesse's eyes widened, fury flaring as he glared at the curtain. "I've already paid a hundred and thirty! And now you demand more?"
"Pay, or the target dies," The voice replied, now icy, stripped of its earlier warmth.
"You…" Jesse's teeth ground together, his bloodied cloth clenched in his fist. "Fine. Ten gold coins." The words tasted bitter, but he had no choice.
"Leave the coins on the chair when you go," The woman said, her voice regaining its detached calm.
"When will the new assassin move?" Jesse asked, his patience fraying. Spending a hundred forty gold coins on a mere baron was galling, but Lucas's reputation made it a price worth paying.
"No later than three days," She replied coolly. "Someone will take the contract."
"I expect good news when I reach Sedona City," Jesse said, rising from the chair. He fished ten gold coins from his pouch, tossing them onto the seat with a metallic clink, and strode toward the door, his cloak swirling.
Creak!
The door groaned as he exited, his footsteps echoing in the silent tavern. Moments later, a figure emerged from behind the curtain—a woman in a flowing red robe, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders, crimson eyes glinting in the candlelight. Her delicate features and pale, porcelain skin gave her an almost ethereal presence, her slender fingers tapping thoughtfully against her arm.
"Fifth Deacon, this contract's payout is a disgrace," Said a second figure, a maid stepping out from the shadows, her voice sharp with indignation. "Jesse paid a hundred thirty gold coins, but only fifty reached Lockwood City. The Phuket City guild took too much!"
The Fifth Deacon—the woman with the enchanting voice—shrugged, her expression unruffled. "No matter. Relay the contract changes to the Seventh Deacon. Tell him to cough up the withheld coins, or this job won't get done."
"Yes, ma'am," The maid said, bowing respectfully.
"Amusing," the Fifth Deacon murmured, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I came here to inspect, and I stumble on this." She tapped her fingers again, her mind turning. The Seventh Deacon's greed was a problem—the guild's rules were clear: skimming too much risked delaying critical tasks, and she wouldn't tolerate inefficiency.
"Fifth Deacon," The maid pressed, her tone sharp, "A hundred thirty gold coins hires a top-hundred assassin. Fifty coins? That's a low-tier job. No wonder it failed."
"Send the message by bird," The Fifth Deacon said, her voice soft but commanding. "And let the Seventh Deacon know I'm here. If he's smart, he'll fix this."
"Yes, ma'am," The maid replied, hurrying behind the curtain. She retrieved a palm-sized piece of specially treated parchment, lighter and thinner than standard vellum, and began scribbling with a quill. Once the ink dried, she approached a corner of the room, pulling a black cloth from a small cage. Inside, a tiny black bird, used by the guild for covert messages, ruffled its feathers. The maid tied the parchment to its leg, opened a window, and released the bird, watching it vanish into the inky night.
"This Sedona City is intriguing," The Fifth Deacon said, flipping through a stack of reports on the desk. Details of Sedona's rapid growth—its markets, innovations, and enigmatic lord—caught her eye. 'A city worth watching,' She thought, her curiosity piqued.
"Should we send someone to capture this Lucas ourselves?" The maid asked eagerly.
The Fifth Deacon waved a dismissive hand. "No need. The guild's focus is the struggle for the new king." Her crimson eyes gleamed with purpose. The guild was preparing to step out of the shadows, and their plans hinged on greater powers. "A minor noble, even a remarkable one, isn't worth my effort. Let the coin-driven hunters handle him."
"Yes, ma'am," The maid said, bowing once more.
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