Every year, when those roses bloom, it’s always a big day.

Their roses always bloom early because of the magical energy flowing up from the ground.

They would have big feasts and lots of drinks, then a workshop would be set up in the entrance hall to prepare the roses for the contracts.

Juno would take six of the nicest, plumpest, most vibrant roses, and with her steady hands, make them into deadly weapons.

Each rose is first assigned to a contract, then slightly modified to suit the situation.

The bottoms of their stems are carefully hollowed out, and gas-powered syringes, handmade by Juno herself, are carefully affixed inside. Another shallow cut would be placed on the stem above the needle so that a gently twist would break it away and reveal the hair-like stinger.

Finally, they are soaked in a solution of special preservatives to seal in the magic and prevent the roses from becoming perceivable. The solution also gives the roses a special glimmer, and further darkens the already deep red color.

And just like that, six invisible weapons are born. Weapons which are the livelihood of Rose, weapons which have never failed in their task. Weapons which, for all anyone else knew, don’t exist.

Whenever the roses bloom, the entrance hall would always be packed with students, watching the rose-making process with eager eyes.

The entire process, from start to finish, usually took three days. Trimming and placement of syringes took a day, soaking took another, and the drying took the third.

This year was no different, and in between classes and assignments, everyone would crowd around the worktables and pots of potions laid out in the entrance hall, watching as Juno skillfully crafted the roses.

“Do you think we’d ever get to use one of those?” Saya asked Idris as they watched Juno work.

“Maybe in quite a few more years.”

“Yeah…”

On the third day, when the six roses are gently lifted out of the preservative potion and hung up to dry, now a crimson so deep they looked like blood, they had a big feast at dinner. Mintaka, their head chef, conjured up beautiful plates of roasted meats and vegetables, pastries and sweets. But no liquor was poured because their contract would take place in just four day’s time. If the journey to Bluewater took two days, that left them with only two days for final preparations.

As they sat at their tables, plates empty, stomachs full, Julius stood up and headed to the front of the dining hall.

He clapped his hands once, and the noise instantly died down.

“Bless the roses,” he began. “But today we have more important matters. Our first contract, which, as I imagine, is much anticipated by all, is scheduled to take place in just four day’s time. We will be leaving the day after tomorrow in the early morning, so tomorrow will be our final preparations. After dinner, please head to your task group rooms, where the finalized plans will be shared with you. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Now, something a little fun,” Julius said with a smile, pausing a little to build the tension. “Tomorrow, we should be receiving a delivery of formal wear for the participants of the ball. That means fancy dresses, formal suits, all of which will need to be fitted to each person. This will likely take up the majority of the day. But, in the evening, after dinner, we will be having a full dress rehearsal of the assassination. That means formal clothing, music, and dancing, and I will be acting as Edwardo Schulz. So get ready, practice that little bit more if you need. And once again, bless the roses.”

They cheered in joy, leaping up from their places in excitement.

“A dance!” Saya shouted happily. “A proper dance!”

They headed up to their task group rooms, the air in the manor alive with enthusiasm.

Izzy was there already when they entered, papers in hand, ready to be handed out to the members of task group one.

“Sit down everyone,” said Izzy. “I will now go over the details for the upcoming contract. This is a big operation, so please listen carefully.”

Saya got out her notebook, ready to write down anything of importance.

“All of task groups one and two will be at the ball, Yelena, Sandra, Leo, and I will be present as well, with Yelena being tasked with approaching Schulz and conducting the assassination,” Izzy explained. “Certain members of task groups three and four have also been selected to be at the ball, with the rest conducting surveillance and preparing for extraction.”

Izzy walked over to the bulletin board, where a hand-drawn map of the Schulz estate was pinned. Idris could tell the forest and the surrounding neighborhood, even the location of the trees and bushes in the compound that they reported.

“According to our intelligence, Schulz is planning to make an appearance at the ball halfway through the night. Toward the end of the ball, Yelena will approach Schulz and execute the assassination. She and I will then take Schulz up to his room using my telekinesis, after which we can make our leave.”

He gestured to the different colored arrows on the map.

“We, task group one, will be heading around and into the forest, from there we will meet up with our wagons, and immediately head back for home. The others will be heading into the city, then back home from there. Limit the use of magic, don’t use any if possible. Remember that you are using false identities, the details of which are in my hand, and will be shared with you shortly. Tomorrow at the rehearsal, it will be as if we are at the real ball. So be gentlemen and ladies, use fancy language, and call each other by your false names. I’ll be handing out detailed files to each of you regarding your task and false identities after the meeting is over. Questions?”

Saya raised her hand.

“Yes?”

“Will those who aren’t going to the actual ball be at the rehearsal tomorrow?” She asked.

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Izzy smiled. “Yes, they will. We got formal clothing for everyone just in case.”

*****

Early the next day, three wagons full of fine silken dresses, delicately woven suits, and polished leather shoes arrived at the manor.

It took a long time for the seniors to teach everyone how to properly put on the fancy clothes, and even longer to make the adjustments necessary for the clothes to fit everyone.

Idris and Andrei were annoyed at the somewhat restrictive movement of the fancy suits, while Saya was busy spinning around in her elaborate dress, tiptoeing around like a fairy and speaking like a princess.

“Saya, please, stop doing that,” Idris pleaded.

“Who speaks?” Replied Saya, lifting her chin and pretending to not see Idris. “Any who speaks to me must refer to me as ‘Your Highness’.”

“Your…” Idris stuttered. “Your Highness, please stop.”

“No.”

“Stop it!” Shouted Idris, grabbing Saya’s head with his palm and pressing her smaller stature downwards. “I’m gonna go crazy!”

“Aaahh!” Saya screamed. “Guards! Guards!”

“I’m leaving.”

“Go then,” said Saya, immediately returning to her princess impression. “I’m sure you’ll come back to her Highness in time.”

“No, I don’t know who you are,” muttered Idris, turning to leave.

“Wait wait!” Saya shouted, dropping her princess voice and chasing after Idris. “I’ll stop I’ll stop.”

“Good.”

Someone clapped, and the students littered throughout the entrance hall looked toward the source of the noise.

It was Yelena, standing in front of the grand piano. She wore a brilliant red dress, her hair intricately braided into a large bun, poked through by a crimson rose to secure it.

“Attention students! The dance will begin shortly, please be prepared in your pairs. We will begin as soon as the seniors arrive.”

As her words left her mouth, Sandra, Izzy, and Leo entered the hall, their hair styled and the silk glistening.

“This is the last song of the night!” Julius announced from the second-floor walkway, turning everyone’s attention towards him. “After this song is over, the first contract will be complete. The sun is getting low in the sky, so let us begin. Yelena.”

Yelena nodded, sat down before the grand piano, lifted her hands, gently laid them upon the black and white keys, and began playing a slow, soft tune, the same tune which they had first danced to many days prior.

“Well?” Idris turned to Saya, lending her his hand.

In the warm setting sun, Saya looked breathtaking in her white dress. Her blushed cheeks were dyed a shade of orange in the slanted beams of sunlight.

“Yes,” she replied, taking Idris’ hand as they began stepping to the rhythm.

Slowly and gracefully, they moved to the waltz, their steps in sync and their movements like one. The entrance hall of the Rose Manor, now filled with dancing men and women, colorful dresses waving and shoes tapping, has never looked prettier before.

Julius, portraying their target, stalked through the crowd, exchanging words and drinks with the dancers. Here and then someone would take his hand, twirl with him for a few beats, then move right on.

“How’s my dancing?” Saya asked.

“It’s good,” Idris answered. “At least you’re not stepping on me anymore.”

She chuckled, before giving his foot a firm stomp.

As the song came to an end, Yelena slowly got up from the piano, pressing the last few notes as she stood up, and headed towards Julius. Along the way, she snatched up a glass of wine from a table, taking a little sip as she walked.

“Evening, Mr. Schulz,” she spoke in a deep, silky smooth voice. “Care for a drink?”

“Sure,” Julius answered.

They clinked their glasses and each took a swig. As Yelena brought her glass back down, she moved closer to Julius.

“I heard you’ve been quite bored lately, Mr. Schulz.”

“Well, I can’t say I haven’t.”

“How about I stay a little longer after the ballroom is empty?”

“Well…” Julius began.

Before he could finish, Yelena stepped towards him. But her heels caught on Julius’ shoes, and she stumbled forward past him.

“Woah!” Exclaimed Julius, moving to catch the falling lady.

But she hadn’t fallen, she’s far too skilled of an assassin to do that sort of thing.

In one fluid motion, she caught herself with one hand and somersaulted over her head as she spun around behind Julius, reaching back at the same time to extract the rose from her hair bun.

She landed on the opposite side of Julius before he could even turn around, and speared the stem of the rose straight towards the exposed nape of his neck.

The end of the stem stopped just a millimeter from meeting its target, quivering in the air, close enough to tingle the little hairs on his neck.

“Good job, Yelena,” he said as he turned to face her. “Job well done.”

“Thank you," Yelena replied, her dazzling black hair fluttering behind her.

“Make sure to snap off the end of the stem next time.”

“I didn’t want to kill you.”

“I trust your hands.”

*****

“All loaded?” Julius shouted above the noise.

The front yard of the manor was filled with ten horse-drawn wagons, each being filled to the brim with supplies and passengers. The sun had barely risen, and they were already ready to go.

“Yes!” A few Seniors shouted back.

Julius turned to Mintaka, who stood waiting behind him. “It might get a little lonely back here while we’re gone.”

“It’s okay,” she answered with a smile. “I’m sure we can take good care of ourselves. Plus, we have Kaleb and the newcomers to worry about.”

“That’s true,” Julius said with a chuckle. “Thank you for the food. We’ll be on our way now.”

“No problem. Safe travels and good luck.”

“Thank you.”

Then he walked to a wagon, climbed onboard, and swung himself up onto the top of the cover, holding up the fabric with his telekinesis as he addressed the others.

“You know your routes, you know the plan, here’s to a successful contract,” he boomed. “No time to waste now, let’s go!”

They rumbled off into the rising sun, each wagon taking a different direction through the meadow. They would each be taking different paths to Bluewater, and they would each be taking different paths back.

When they meet again at the ball, they will be strangers. By the end of the ball, there would be another successful contract under their belt.

The roses are in bloom, and it’s time for a party.

A party to remember.