The person who walked in was not Sila.
It was an old woman with a stooped frame wrapped in a worn shawl, carrying an empty basket. She looked as though she had come to buy the cheap black bread sold in the tavern. She glanced at Ilus in the corner with her clouded eyes before tottering toward the counter.
Ilus’s heart sank, and she lowered her head.
Time passed second by second, each one stretching into a long, agonizing wait. Her heart rate quickened steadily. Gradually, she grew restless. ‘Surely it shouldn’t take too long to kill a defenseless maid? Sila must be on her way back.’
Ilus comforted herself again.
She even began to envision the scene of Sila’s success. Iliana — that wretched bastard, that demon who lusted after her body — should be lying in some filthy alley right now. A poisoned dagger would be buried in her chest, or perhaps her throat had been neatly slit.
Those pale gold eyes should be unfocused by now. As she recalled Iliana’s gaze, Ilus’s fingertips trembled slightly; she couldn’t tell if it was from anticipation or lingering fear.
But… what if?
What if Sila failed? Iliana was a Demon, after all. Perhaps she wasn’t afraid of a common assassination attempt?
Perhaps she had noticed it long ago?
‘No, that’s impossible. The plan is perfect.’
Ilus shook her head vigorously, trying to toss out the uneasy thoughts. She had specifically chosen a time when Iliana had to go out alone, and Old Sila was supposedly the best assassin in this area, possessing extensive experience.
Most importantly, after Iliana had humiliated her so thoroughly last night, the woman must be feeling quite smug. This would be the moment when her guard was at its lowest.
“Your rye ale, guest.”
The bartender placed a cup of cloudy liquid in front of her, interrupting her thoughts. Ilus hadn’t ordered it, but she said nothing. She simply pushed a few copper coins across the table. Looking at it now, she did indeed need something to help her calm down.
Someone else pushed the door open.
This time it was a burly man wearing a leather vest, carrying the scent of a blacksmith’s shop. He shouted for strong liquor and slumped into a seat not far from Ilus, his gaze sweeping over her, as she was the only other customer.
Ilus instinctively pulled her hood lower and shrank back.
Time continued to flow, and the appointed hour had already passed. Ilus felt her stomach begin to cramp. Her stomach was empty from not eating that morning, yet it churned with a nausea brought on by tension.
She picked up the cup of rye ale and took a small sip. The coarse, sour liquid slid down her throat, bringing a slight burning sensation that failed to suppress the coldness in her heart.
She began to look back on everything she had done. Was there a flaw somewhere in the middle? Or had Iliana already perceived her intentions?
‘Miss, I’ll be back in a while~’
The words Iliana had said before leaving this morning seemed to ring in her ears again, accompanied by that warm breath.
Ilus jolted violently, causing the liquid in the cup to slosh out and wet her fingers. She hurriedly set the cup down and used her sleeve to wipe them.
‘Calm down, Ilus,’ the young lady told herself. ‘Sila might have just been delayed by something.’
An assassination wasn’t like going to the market to buy vegetables; it required waiting for the perfect moment. Perhaps Sila was trailing Iliana, searching for a secluded and suitable place to strike.
She forced herself to take a deep breath, steadying her trembling body just as she had the night before. But this time, it didn’t seem as effective. Shadows began to spread in the depths of her heart.
The bell on the door rang again.
Ilus held her breath as she looked up. However, the person who entered was a newspaper boy. He tossed a roll of newspapers onto the counter and rushed back out.
Disappointment flooded over her like a cold tide. She couldn’t wait any longer; an ominous premonition was growing stronger. She had to do something. Perhaps… she should go check that road?
No, that was too dangerous. What if she stumbled upon Sila in the middle of the act, or… what if she ran into a living Iliana?
But sitting here lost in her thoughts was even more of a torment. Ilus stood up abruptly, her chair legs making a harsh scraping sound against the floor.
Both the bartender and the blacksmith looked over. Ignoring them, she slapped a few extra copper coins onto the table and walked quickly toward the door with her head down.
As she pushed the door open, the somewhat piercing morning sunlight made her squint. People were coming and going on the street, and everything seemed normal. There were vendors hawking their wares, hurried pedestrians, and the rumbling sound of carriages passing by. There was nothing unusual, and no news of the kind she either hoped for or feared.
Which way should she go? Toward the market, or… home?
Just as Ilus was feeling slightly lost, a hand suddenly patted her shoulder from behind. Shaken, Ilus nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned around and froze for a moment, before her face filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
The person who had arrived was Sila.
“Sila, you’re back?!”
Sila didn’t answer. She merely tilted her head toward the tavern, signaling for Ilus to follow her inside to talk.
The young lady followed her all the way to a private room on the second floor. Once there, Sila handed over a bloody Butterfly Hairpin.
Ilus’s breath hitched. A surge of excitement rushed through her, nearly making her lose her balance. She leaned against the wall to steady herself and suppressed her inner agitation.
“It was a success?”
It was a question to which she already knew the answer, but Ilus wanted to hear the result she already knew from Sila’s own lips.
“Yes. The dagger went through her neck and heart. She definitely won’t survive.”
Sila nodded.
“Good, good, good!”
Ilus could no longer suppress the burning, surging ecstasy rising from the depths of her soul. She spun around, leaning her back against the cold wall, and covered her face with her hands, yet she couldn’t stifle the broken laughter leaking from her throat.
“Ha… haha… Hahahaha!”
The laughter was faint and trembling at first, but it quickly grew louder and more jubilant, finally turning into a sharp, near-uncontrollable wild laugh.
The girl bent over, laughing until tears pricked her eyes. They slid down through the gaps between her fingers, mixing with the flush on her cheeks that had yet to fade from the alcohol.
“Success… I succeeded! I survived!”
Panting, she lowered her hands, revealing a face wet with tears yet radiant with joy.
Sila frowned. Was all this really necessary for just a maid? However, she didn’t ask further. Instead, she spoke up.
“Hey, Miss, the remainder of the — “
“Here.”
After paying the money, Ilus wiped away her tears. The violent shift in her emotions caused her to gag several times. She stumbled out of the room and into an empty room nearby.
“Saying I’m like a cat in heat?”
She spoke back to the empty room, her voice slightly shrill with excitement.
“Who is the prey now? Who is the fool being played in the palm of a hand?”
She looked into the bronze mirror used for decoration on the wall. The mirror reflected an exceptionally bright face with flushed cheeks and eyes that shone with startling intensity. The tears that had just spilled and the excitement currently burning within her intertwined, creating a beauty that was almost demonic.
She raised a hand to touch the faint red marks on the side of her neck. Those were the marks Iliana had left the previous night. As her fingertips brushed over them, she no longer felt shame — only a cold, vengeful pleasure.
Iliana was dead, and the sword hanging over her head had finally vanished! She could now slowly enjoy her privileged life. Although Madam Vanessa was a bit annoying, at least she wouldn’t take her life.
‘Where should I go to celebrate next?’
Ilus was in high spirits and decided to simply take a stroll through the city. However, as she crossed the street and entered a relatively busy alley, her gaze suddenly locked onto a figure standing in the middle of the road.
The figure was motionless, but Ilus felt as though they were waiting for her…