Killing Your Sweet Breath - Chapter 16
Chapter 8.2
A month had passed.
Winter climbed to the roof of the Helgram estate every night to fulfill a separate part of their contract.
As she expected, almost every night, assassins and spies prowled around the estate. Three times in the past two weeks, they attempted to assassinate Van Helgram, just as she once had.
So far, Winter had captured at least six assassins as of this morning.
She made sure to thoroughly interrogate them to find out who sent them. Though, she discovered most worked for the emperor or his loyal nobles.
Once Van saw the battered state Winter left the assassins in, he laughed and said, “If that’s how they’ll end up, then there’s no need to spare them.”
After Van left the cellar, Ian quietly took Winter’s hand and used his own handkerchief to wipe off the grime, willingly soiling the white cloth. When Winter remarked that her hands were already dirty anyway, Ian smiled bitterly.
Returning to her room, Winter finally went to sleep as dawn broke.
She wandered through terrible nightmares. Ironically, her body’s self-imposed insomnia had proven to be helpful in her current lifestyle.
Even today, Winter suffered silently in her brief moments of sleep. She watched Ruhen burn to the ground, unable to even scream in distress. When she finally awoke, the bedding was soaked in her sweat.
Sianna had woken her up from her short dream.
“It looked like you were in an extreme amount of pain…”
Over the past month, she had grown much closer to Sianna and some of the other maids.
Once Van decided the staff had spread the word outside just enough, he no longer obsessed over hiding Winter’s identity.
The servants were perceptive enough due to their time working at Van’s estate and quickly realized that Winter was not just a simple country girl.
The typical fiancée of a duke wouldn’t stain her bedding with someone else’s blood.
This made living within the estate more comfortable, but…
“Perhaps you should take some medicine?”
She still needed to get used to the sympathetic looks they gave her.
Winter was an assassin. She had no qualms about killing people for money.
And yet, here she was, receiving worried glances from the servants.
This estate was only filled with strange people, clearly.
“Wake me if it looks like I’m struggling too much. Otherwise, don’t worry about it.”
Winter got up to find that a simple breakfast had been prepared and was waiting for her.
Van had been considerate enough to allow her to eat at her own pace, without the need to join him for breakfast.
Sianna approached to help with the meal. She poured a glass of wine to quench Winter’s thirst and informed her:
Remember, you’re required to attend dinner at the imperial palace today. Just a brief reminder of this afternoon’s schedule.
“You can wear the last dress that arrived yesterday.”
“Handle it for me.”
“And if you’re reluctant to take your medicine, I’ll brew a tea to help you fall asleep once you return at dawn. You already only sleep in the morning, and missing your daily rest will harm your health and interfere with your ‘work,’ so please don’t refuse.”
Winter reluctantly nodded, agreeing to her words. People who could combine kindness and duty together were the most challenging to handle.
* * *
The dress was heavy.
After the boutique’s owner delivered the dress, he went on a long rant about how it was the masterpiece of his life and how surreal it felt to have his creation worn by the Lady of the Helgram Duchy, before he finally packed up and left.
Now dressed in his masterpiece, Winter walked through the gardens of the imperial palace. It took a long walk from the carriage to travel across the vast and magnificent palace grounds.
Somewhere inside was Emperor Lockheed Niello. The man who had taken Winter’s family away from her.
“Winter, how do you feel?”
“So happy I can hardly breathe,”
Van appeared to be pleased with her answer, wearing a content smile as they stood before the emperor’s audience chamber.
The large doors creaked open, revealing a luxurious room decorated entirely in marble and gold. At the far end was the emperor, sitting on his throne while quietly observing the two of them.
“Greetings to the living sun of Niello.”
Winter felt no humiliation as she bowed to her enemy.
Instead, her heart pounded, pumping enough blood throughout her body to strangle the emperor right then and there.
Perhaps Van sensed Winter’s intense emotions because he ended up lifting his head first and taking her hand in his cold grip.
“You may enter.”
The two of them sat side by side in the chairs of the audience chamber. Winter lifted her head, wanting to see Lockheed’s face.
The emperor looked a lifetime older than when she had last seen him as a child.
He was once a knight who roamed the battlefields, but his body was now ruined.
His arms and legs were gaunt, and his belly was as full as his greed. Even his once-radiant blond hair, known to be a symbol of the sun, had lost its luster.
“It’s been a long time, Van. My son.”
Lockheed said, his white beard moving as he spoke. Winter looked at his pale lips, drained of color. He looked like a monochromatic monster.
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