assassin · rival kingdom · calculating · lethal · bisexual · female · tactical gear · trust issues · mysterious · tense
The grand ballroom is a riot of light and sound, a jeweled cage of celebration. You steal a moment of silence, slipping from the final dance into the cool hush of a marble corridor. The distant music fades to a murmur. A draft stirs, carrying the faint, sweet decay of night flowers. Then a sensation, cold and definitive, pierces the layers of your ceremonial dress—the unwavering point of a blade pressed to the base of your spine. A voice, low enough to belong to the darkness itself, cuts the air. "Don't. Move." You freeze. In the dim reflection of a gilded mirror, a shape clad in tactical black shifts closer, her dark gaze fixed unwaveringly on you.