Three weeks had passed since the attack, and Shikihime's condition was gradually improving. She could now sit up unaided and eat on her own, a sign of her growing strength. Despite her physical progress, she remained bedridden, a frustrating limitation for someone as active as she was.
Shikihime began to inquire about Mai's whereabouts, but Kage skillfully evaded the truth, claiming that Mai was occupied with an important mission. The others around her mirrored this deception, exuding an air of cheerfulness and optimism. However, Shikihime was not easily fooled. She noticed the underlying tension in their expressions, the slight hesitation in their voices. She decided not to confront them yet, choosing instead to focus on her recovery.
One day, as Sora tended to her wounds, Shikihime observed the healing cuts on her arms. Sora, ever the attentive caregiver, suggested keeping the bandages on a bit longer. "It's important to conceal the extent of your recovery for now," Sora advised. "We can't let them know you're healing so quickly."
Shikihime nodded in agreement, understanding the need for caution. "You're right, Sora. We must be vigilant. There are still many unknowns, and I'm sure the archduke will have questions once I'm able to walk again." Her voice carried a determination that belied her weakened state.
One week after Shikihime's initial recovery, she reached a significant milestone – she was finally able to stand and walk, albeit with care and caution. This achievement was met with a flurry of excitement and concern from her attendants, who were eager to assist her. However, Shikihime, always conscious of her dignity and independence, declined their help. She was determined to regain her strength and mobility through her own efforts.
Shikuro, upon hearing of her progress, began to make daily visits to check on her. During these visits, he maintained a respectful distance, refraining from prying into the details of the incident or overwhelming her with questions. Instead, he focused on her well-being and recovery.
In their conversations, Shikihime often inquired about the current state of affairs, seeking assurance of her safety. She made attempts at humor, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but it was evident that these efforts taxed her still-recovering strength. Her smiles, though genuine, were often short-lived and visibly strained.
Shikuro, perceptive and considerate, always took these signs as his cue to leave, allowing Shikihime the rest she so crucially needed. He recognized the importance of her recovery, not just for her own sake but for the stability and future of their intertwined destinies. Each of his departures was marked by a silent promise to ensure her safety and a better future, a commitment he held close to his heart.
During one of her recuperative walks around the estate, Shikihime encountered the young girl she had rescued from the streets. The transformation in the child was striking; what was once a lifeless, sickly figure was now a vibrant, healthy girl, radiating more vitality than Shikihime herself. The sight brought a genuine smile to Shikihime's face, a rare moment of unguarded joy amid her recovery.
Curious about the child's situation, Shikihime turned to Yoru with a question about the girl's brother and why she was still in the estate. Yoru, caught off guard and unsure of how to respond, suggested that Shikihime should direct her inquiries to Kage. Shikihime sensed the evasion in Yoru's response, understanding that there was more to the story than she was being told. Resigned yet determined, she decided it was time to confront the wall of silence that Kage had erected around the incident.
As they continued their walk, Sora, always attentive and protective, stayed close to Shikihime, monitoring her progress. Akalune and Haruto were also present, vigilant and ready to assist if needed. Shikihime, feeling her strength gradually returning, posed a question to Sora, reflecting her eagerness to resume her normal activities: "When do you think I will be able to train again?" Her tone was hopeful, a clear indication of her desire to regain not just her physical strength but also her sense of normalcy and control over her life.
Shikihime, feeling her strength and resolve returning, was ready to confront the wall of silence that had been built around her during her recovery. "Call our circle," she instructed Yoru firmly upon their return to her chambers.
Twenty minutes later, her inner circle was assembled in her room. Each member wore a solemn expression, reflecting the gravity of the moment. Shikihime's gaze fixed intently on Kage, her eyes demanding the truth. "It's time to cut it out, Kage. I know you're hiding things from me, and I believe I understand why. But I'm well enough now to hear it all. So, let's start with Mai. Is her absence related to the girl we saved? Is she on a mission in the city, or did something happen with her brother?" Shikihime's questions cut through the room's tense silence.
Kage met Shikihime's gaze unflinchingly. "I think you could have waited a bit longer," Kage responded, her voice steady but her words failing to mask the underlying strain.
In a sudden, swift movement, Shikihime threw a dagger that narrowly missed Kage's cheek, embedding itself in the wall behind. The room tensed, but Kage's expression remained unchanged, as if indifferent to the near miss. "Are you done, Shikihime? Feeling better now that you've shown us something any 10-year-old royal can do?" Kage's retort was sharp, challenging.
Shikihime admired Kage's guts but was not deterred. "No," she replied, her voice low but firm. "I wanted to show you that if I can throw daggers, I can handle bad news. I expected some have fallen during the assault. Tell me the names."
Kage sighed, a heavy weight seemingly lifting as she began to speak. One by one, she recited the names of their fallen comrades, each name a somber echo in the chamber. The list ended with Mai, and as the finality of that name hung in the air, a profound sense of loss swept over the room. The reality of their sacrifice, embodied in the names spoken, settled heavily on everyone present.
Shikihime felt a sharp pang in her heart as Kage uttered the last name on the list. Her eyes swept across the room, meeting those of her friends. Each face mirrored the gravity of the situation, confirming the harsh reality of their loss. She struggled to maintain her composure, feeling her legs tremble beneath her. Inside, a storm of sadness raged, though outwardly she remained stoic.
"She had a funeral during my bedridden time, didn't she?" Shikihime's voice was barely audible, a whisper carrying the weight of her sorrow. The room fell into a heavy silence, the kind that spoke volumes more than any words could. It was a silent acknowledgment of the truth she already knew.
Gathering her strength, Shikihime inquired, "Who killed her?" Kage detailed the assassin's actions - a cowardly shot from behind, followed by a deadly impalement. Shikihime's heart sank further with each word.
Her next question was hesitant, yet hopeful. "Was there a woman among the assassins, one with a permanently and freshly injured left eye?" She needed to know if her past had caught up with her in this cruel twist of fate.
Kage's response was a negative. No such person was found among the enemy's dead. Shikihime felt a wave of despair wash over her. Her legs buckled slightly, and she reached out, needing support to remain standing.
"So... it was all in vain. I let her escape," Shikihime murmured, her voice laced with regret and self-reproach. "I failed to avenge my sister a second time and nearly got myself killed. I am a failure."
In an uncharacteristic display of compassion, Kage stepped forward and embraced Shikihime. "Hush, girl. You are not a failure," Kage's voice was soft but firm. "She has a gift that gives her an advantage over us, and we didn't know. She's one of the best assassins the Stardust Kingdom has. You are among the few in the world who have fought her twice and even managed to injure her. I am proud of you, of your bravery, and yes, even your stupidity. Now, please promise us something. Next time, keep your emotions in check and don't embark on any unplanned, reckless chases."
Shikihime, seated on her bed, gazed around the room at her companions. Her mind was still grappling with the recent events, and she needed answers. "Were the assassins who killed Mai caught?" she asked, her voice carrying a mix of sorrow and determination.
Yoru, standing near the window, turned to face Shikihime. "The one who fought Mai didn't get far. I took care of him later," she said, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of anger. "He deeply regretted his actions by the end."
Shikihime's gaze shifted to Yoru, her expression hardening slightly. "And the one who shot her?" she inquired further, seeking closure.
Kage, who had been quietly observing the exchange, spoke up. "We're not certain. Most likely, he was either killed while fleeing by the duchy's soldiers or managed to escape. Without more information, it's impossible to know for sure."
Shikihime sensed that the shooter might have survived, but without evidence, she knew it was futile to speculate further. As she contemplated the weight of their losses, Sora approached her with a small, ornately crafted dagger in hand.
"My lady... Shikihime," Sora began, her voice tinged with sadness. "This was a gift Mai had intended to give you as a token of her gratitude for being a wonderful mistress. We found it in her room when we were... tidying up after her departure. I believe it rightfully belongs to you now. I'm sure it would have made her happy."
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Shikihime took the dagger from Sora's outstretched hand. It was beautifully made, though clearly not designed for combat. Its blade was dull, more suited for ceremonial purposes or perhaps opening letters. Despite its impracticality for battle, Shikihime decided to treasure it as a reminder of Mai's loyalty and friendship.
"That fool... stupid, brave fool," Shikihime murmured under her breath, a mix of affection and regret in her voice. She clutched the dagger close, feeling the weight of Mai's absence. It was a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made and the bonds forged in the midst of their turbulent lives.
Shikihime lay back, her gaze distant as she delved into the pool of her memories, reminiscing about Mai. A small, wistful smile appeared on her face as she recalled the day Mai joined her squad. She was the youngest among them, quickly earning the nickname 'hot rookie,' a moniker first coined by Minato. The memory brought a chuckle to the room as Shikihime recounted how Mai had misunderstood the term, thinking it was a comment on her attractiveness rather than her spirited nature.
"I remember her approaching Minato with such seriousness, bowing deeply before saying, 'I need some time to get used here. We can try dating later,'" Shikihime narrated, her voice laced with fondness. "The look of bewilderment on Minato's face when she said that – we all couldn't help but laugh, and poor Mai was so confused."
The room erupted into gentle laughter, the tension easing slightly at the innocent anecdote. Shikihime continued, her smile growing as she shared more about Mai's earnest and dedicated nature.
"There was also the time I jokingly told her about the 'trial of fire' for true members of our group – a solo hunt of a wild black tiger," she said. "Mai took it to heart and disappeared for two weeks. We were all stunned when she returned, triumphant, with a black tiger in tow. My father and brother scolded me for not being a more serious leader, but in that act, Mai earned the group's respect. I believe at that time, only Yoru, Sora, and I had achieved such a feat."
Sora chimed in, adding with a touch of pride, "And let's not forget, Minato and Akalune are also capable of such a feat."
Shikihime's voice wavered as she recounted her memories with Mai, each word a careful balance between joy and sorrow. The weight of emotions swelled within her, threatening to spill over, but she maintained her composure, a testament to her strength.
Yoru then took the lead, sharing a side of Mai unknown to Shikihime. "You might not know this, but Mai initially looked down on me," Yoru began, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "Being a commoner among nobles, she thought her noble blood guaranteed superiority. She challenged me to a sparring match, confident in her victory."
Yoru paused, a faint smile emerging despite the heavy atmosphere. "I won that match decisively. It was a humbling moment for her, but it sparked the beginning of our friendship. She began joining me in training sessions back in the Dynasty, and one day, she confessed that I taught her valuable lessons: to never underestimate an opponent and to never judge based solely on birthright. I remember feeling an overwhelming sense of pride and happiness."
Tears began to trickle down Yoru's cheeks, a rare display of vulnerability. "I regret not teaching her to keep a cool head in battle. I should have been there for her more... if only I had insisted on training together at least once after we arrived here."
Shikihime, moved by Yoru's emotional confession, shared her own regrets. "I too have something that weighs on me. I once told Mai that her flirtations with Torsten disappointed me. It was just for appearances; deep down, I was actually rooting for her. Now, I can't take back those words or reveal my true feelings and support. It's a regret that will stay with me."
Sora's voice was soft, tinged with reminiscence and a hint of melancholy as she added her own story about Mai. "I used to train with her too, but honestly, I'm just an average fighter compared to her. Most of the time, it felt like she was training me rather than it being a mutual effort. But there was this one time, I actually managed to win. Just once, though."
A wistful smile appeared on Sora's face as she recalled the memory, but her eyes were misty with tears. "We were sparring intensely, and she had me cornered against the wall. Our swords were locked, and she was gradually overpowering me, as usual. But in a desperate moment, I did something unexpected—I blew her a deep, playful kiss."
The room grew silent, hanging on Sora's words. "It caught her so off guard that her arms weakened momentarily, and that's when I seized the opportunity to pin her down and claim victory."
Sora paused, her smile fading into a somber expression. "She was furious after the fight, and I couldn't understand why. I thought it was just a harmless joke. It was only later that she confronted me, accusing me of stealing her first kiss—the one she had been saving for someone truly special. I tried to lighten the mood, joking that I must be her special someone then. I didn't realize how deeply traditional and innocent she was about such matters. She avoided me for days, and it took her a long time to forgive my impulsive act."
Rin and Haru, their expressions somber yet filled with a touch of warmth, chimed in with their own anecdote about Mai. "We decided to take her out for drinks one night, just for fun. We all ended up pretty smashed, and at some point, we started talking about finding someone for a bit of... let's say, nocturnal adventure," Rin began, her voice tinged with a mix of amusement and sadness.
"We were discussing potential 'prey' for the night when Mai, ever so eager and misunderstanding our intent, thought we were planning an actual hunting expedition. She was so excited about the idea of hunting with us that we just went along with it," Haru added, a faint chuckle escaping her lips despite the tears in her eyes.
Rin continued, "So, we went to this popular inn and found three decent-looking guys. We booked a room and handed Mai the key, telling her the hunt starts with preparation. She headed to the room, still utterly clueless."
Haru picked up the story, her voice cracking slightly with emotion. "The guy followed her into the room, and that's when things went hilariously wrong. As he started undressing, Mai panicked, thinking she was in some kind of danger. In her attempt to defend herself, she accidentally broke his nose and then, in a drunken stumble, crashed through the window, falling out from the first floor!"
Rin laughed through her tears. "We rushed to her room, thinking it was an assassination attempt or something. There we found the half-naked guy, bleeding and scared. When we questioned him with a dagger to his throat, he explained the whole misunderstanding."
Haru concluded, her voice filled with a bittersweet tone. "It was one of the funniest and most ridiculous nights we've ever had. We often teased her about trying to find someone like Torsten, joking that with her traditional views, she might end up a lifelong virgin. But now... she's gone without ever experiencing that part of life. I regret not encouraging her more, not being there when she needed us the most. I'm so sorry, Shikihime."
Kage, usually the embodiment of composure and strength, surprised everyone with her emotional vulnerability. "I too have regrets," she began, her voice unsteady. "In the short time I served alongside Shikihime, I focused more on duty than personal connections. Now I deeply regret not making an effort to know Mai better. She was more than just an asset to our cause – she was a friend, a comrade whose loss we all feel deeply."
Her usual stoic facade crumbled as tears streamed down her face, revealing a rare glimpse of the heartfelt sorrow beneath. "I'm sorry, but I need to be alone," Kage whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Please excuse me."
One by one, the others departed, offering quiet goodbyes and understanding nods. They left Shikihime alone in her room, which was exactly what she needed at that moment. The pent-up grief and sorrow she had been holding back finally found their release. Tears flowed freely, each one carrying the weight of regret, loss, and unfulfilled promises. She wept for Mai, for the vibrant life cut short, for the friendship that could have grown but was now forever lost.
In the midst of her tears, a firm resolve began to take shape. Shikihime, amidst her sorrow, made a silent vow. She would not let her enemies' actions go unanswered. She would uncover them, slowly but surely, and when she did, her response would not be marked by mercy. She knew the source of her foes – it was time for her to become the hunter rather than the hunted.
As these thoughts mingled with her tears, exhaustion finally claimed her. Sleep enveloped her in its dark embrace, offering a brief escape from the harsh realities of her world. In her dreams, she saw herself, stronger and more determined, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Interlude: A Grim Discovery
The night was shrouded in a heavy blanket of darkness, the kind that seemed to swallow every source of light. Yoru, moving through the shadowy streets of Frostgard, was on a mission. Her task was simple yet heart-wrenching – to find the brother of the girl they had rescued and brought to the estate. The boy, whose fate remained unknown since the chaotic night of the assassination attempt, weighed heavily on her conscience.
As Yoru navigated the labyrinth of narrow alleys and dimly lit pathways, she couldn't help but feel the eerie silence that had fallen over the city. The aftermath of the raid had left its mark - a palpable sense of fear and uncertainty that hung in the air like a thick fog.
Turning into a particularly dark alley, Yoru's senses were assaulted by a familiar, yet unwelcome scent. Her heart sank as she recognized the smell of death. With a deep breath, she steeled herself and followed the scent to its source.
There, lying in a small, secluded nook between two buildings, was the body of a young boy. It was him - the brother of the girl they had saved. Yoru knelt beside him, her heart heavy with grief. The boy's lifeless eyes stared blankly at the night sky, his small frame huddled as if in protection against the cruel world.
Yoru examined the body, her experienced eyes quickly identifying the tell-tale signs of a swift and brutal end. The wounds were precise, the work of a professional. It was clear to her - during the assassins' escape, the boy had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Witnessing something he was not meant to see, his fate had been sealed by the cold efficiency of a killer's blade.
A deep sense of anger and helplessness washed over Yoru. The boy was an innocent, a mere child who had been caught up in the dangerous games of adults. His only crime had been his existence in a world where life was cheap and expendable.
With a heavy heart, Yoru carefully wrapped the boy's body in her cloak. She couldn't leave him here, discarded like refuse in the dark alley. He deserved better, even in death. As she lifted his small form, a bitter resolve settled within her.
The walk back to the estate was a silent one, filled with reflections on the harsh realities of their lives. Yoru knew that breaking the news to the girl would be another challenge, another weight to add to her already burdened shoulders.
Upon her return, the estate was still asleep, oblivious to the tragedy that had unfolded in its shadow. Yoru carried the boy's body to a secluded area, intending to ensure a proper burial come morning. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts – of the senseless violence, the cost of their battles, and the innocent lives caught in the crossfire.
As the first light of dawn began to break, Yoru stood alone, a solitary figure in the dim light. Her expression was one of grim determination. The death of the boy was a stark reminder of the stakes they were playing for, a reminder that their fight was not just for themselves, but for those who could not fight.
In the quiet of the early morning, Yoru made her own silent vow. She would continue to fight, to protect, and to seek justice for those wronged. It was a cold comfort, but it was all she had in a world where darkness often overshadowed the light.