Ashes to Ashes | ✓

14.1 || Flight

First, Aiko insisted on seeking out a guard with a red sash, claiming they were under her command and would be willing to hear her concerns. Despite her severe dislike of the regent Ameris, she did wish to ensure the safety of her guests. If there were unwanted visitors in her castle, there was no way to guarantee they wouldn't also target the others there that night. Felix had no way to reassure her; he personally wouldn't have touched anyone but his target, but he knew some of Furvus's mercenaries were not as merciful. They liked to play games and induce suffering, as if a murder wasn't suffering enough. It puzzled him that Dinah would go so far. Moreover, why would she specifically ask him to kill Aiko before she was crowned, yet send so many directly to her coronation? It didn't add up.

His thoughts were cut short. As Aiko led them back in the direction of the party, a man with a dark-colored cloak stood waiting for them in the hall. His back was turned to them and he had yet to notice them—or, if he did, he gave no indication of it. Felix stopped short at the sight of him, reaching out to catch Aiko's hand. She had frozen in place, her body rigidly stiff as she searched for a solution.

"I was wondering when you'd be kind enough to return," the man said, his voice flooding the empty hall in a rumbling bass. He turned slowly, deliberately, as he drew the sword at his waist. It scraped against the sheath; a haunting melody that sang of blood.

Aiko curled her fingers tighter around Felix's hand. "You know, I'm really quite sick of people getting in my way." Before the man even had a chance to move, she raised her fingers to her lips and produced a shrill whistle. Mae's demon beast form appeared out of the air, his jaws clamping firmly on the man's sword hand.

Blood stained the hall, but it wasn't Aiko's.

"Come on." Aiko yanked Felix away from the scene as Mae tugged fiercely at the man's arm.

Felix swallowed hard and followed Aiko's lead. The man's confidence was quickly broken as a tortured howl rang through the air. Mentally, Felix gave himself a pat on the back. Staying on Mae's side was a good choice.

"That's bound to attract attention," he said as they rounded a corner, leaving the scene behind. Red carpets stretched on endlessly, bordered by solid walls decorated with gold foil and beautifully woven tapestries. "We need to get out of here. What would be the quickest route?"

"We'll try the underground. You're not supposed to know about it so pretend I said nothing. Also..." She dragged him to a halt. Holding his hand to balance herself, she pried her high-heeled shoes from her feet and tossed them against the wall underneath a gold-laced tapestry. As she sank back on her heels—returning to her natural height which barely brought her head to his shoulder—her satin-and-chiffon skirts pooled at her feet. She smiled innocently up at him. "Those were going to kill me before any assassins did."

Her grip on his hand was painfully tight; her knuckles had paled and her arms trembled beneath the sheer red fabric, woven with threads of gold. She tried to hide it, but there was a slight quiver in her lips. Fear crawled across the cracks in her playful smile. Though she had laughed at his attempts only a mere handful of days ago, the threat of death now seemed to unsettle her. Perhaps she had trembled the same way when he put his knife to her throat and threw bitter words at her as he tried to mask his failure.

It tugged painfully at his chest. Shifting the position of her hand against his, he slid his fingers between hers, pinning his palm against hers. The grip was stronger, more secure. From the way the flame in her eyes flickered, it dulled her fear slightly.

"You're right. Those shoes are the worst," he said with a slight smile.

There was a tremor in her voice as she laughed. "Aren't they?"