CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Moving out of town
The humid night air grew cooler as time slipped by, wrapping the garden in a quiet serenity. Milani and Lenora sat together on a weathered bench, their gazes fixed on the vast sprawl of stars. The crickets sang their tireless melody, a rhythmic lullaby against the hush of the evening.
Nestled in Milani’s arms, Lenora found more comfort in her presence than she ever had in Blade’s. Though her stomach was full, it was the stars—their silent glow—and the tranquility of the night that truly satisfied her. Milani’s hand moved in slow, rhythmic strokes through her curls, her touch as soft and reassuring as waves kissing the shore. The gentle motion anchored Lenora in a sense of safety she had rarely known. She had slept through most of the day, worn from pain, yet in Milani’s arms, she could finally rest.
Milani, too, felt a rare kind of peace. Holding this fragile, trusting child against her made her feel, for the first time in a long while, like she belonged somewhere. The delicate strands of Lenora’s hair curled more tightly toward the ends, featherlight against Milani’s fingers. Something stirred in her chest, an unfamiliar rhythm she couldn’t name—beautiful yet elusive.
She only knew one thing: she wouldn’t trade this moment for the world. This was what she had always wanted—peace, however fleeting.
The spell broke as Blade stepped into the open, settling onto a rough-cut log that had long since been repurposed as a chair. He rummaged through a worn, overstuffed bag, pulling out pieces of clothing one by one.
“What are you doing?” Milani asked, her voice soft as she continued stroking Lenora’s hair.
“Finding something for the girl to wear. She needs to stay hidden,” he replied without looking up.
“Does she?” Milani countered. “We can keep her safe in the house—”
“We’re moving before dawn.” His voice was clipped, leaving no room for argument.
She stilled. For a brief moment, she wasn’t sure if she should be insulted by his commanding tone or pleased that he trusted her enough to let her in on his plans.
“So you finally trust me enough to let me come with you—”
“I was talking about Lenora and me,” he interrupted coldly. “Whatever you do is your own concern.”
The words landed like a slap.
Milani exhaled sharply, forcing down her irritation. “Do you have to be this rude? Could you at least let me finish a sentence?”
“Your response wasn’t necessary,” he said flatly, rising to his feet with the bag in hand.
She reached out, her fingers curling around his wrist before he could disappear inside. “I get that we’re not exactly on good terms, and I know we’re not friends, but a little politeness wouldn’t kill you.”
Blade arched a brow. “We were friends?”
Milani sighed and let go. Carefully shifting Lenora’s head to rest against the bench, she turned away, heading toward the garden gate.
A strange sensation coiled in Blade’s chest as he watched her go. Guilt? Regret? He wasn’t sure, but the sight of her walking away left a hollow space in his gut. He hadn’t meant to be rude—he had only spoken his mind. But he had never bothered filtering his words before, and now, for the first time, he wondered if maybe he should.
She had almost reached the low gate when his voice stopped her.
“I…” He hesitated, irritation flickering across his face as he struggled for the right words.
Milani glanced over her shoulder.
“I wasn’t being rude,” he muttered. “I was just being… me.”
A knowing smile ghosted her lips. “I know. Being the best of the Black Robes comes at a cost.”
A heavy silence settled between them. Then, without another word, she turned back toward the gate.
Blade frowned. “If you already know that, then why are you leaving?”
She shut the gate with a quiet click, securing it with a twig in place of a padlock. Then, she turned to face him, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Leave?” she scoffed. “You’d need more than a bad attitude to chase me off. The gate was open. I was just closing it.”
The realization struck him a second too late.
And then, it hit her too—
He had just apologized.
Blade stiffened, immediately regretting it. He turned on his heel before she could comment, but Milani’s voice followed him anyway.
“Was that your attempt at an apology?”
Heat crawled up his neck. His pulse kicked up a notch—an unfamiliar sensation, one he couldn’t name, one he didn’t want to name. Before she could see the discomfort etched on his face, he shoved open the kitchen door and disappeared inside, slamming it shut behind him.
Outside, Milani bit her lip, stifling a grin.
“So you’re human after all,” she teased loud enough for him to hear.
Blade clenched his jaw, pressing his back against the door. His heart was racing, and for the life of him, he didn’t know why.
Embarrassment, maybe? No. That wasn’t it.
It wasn’t the fact that he had apologized that unsettled him. It was the fact that he felt embarrassed about apologizing. What was there to be embarrassed about?
And yet, here he was—
Feeling.
Blade exhaled slowly, forcing the foreign emotion aside as he pushed himself off the doorframe and walked back into the living room.
This was exactly why he avoided people. They had a way of unearthing things inside him—things he didn’t recognize, things he didn’t want to recognize.
Vesper had done it once.
And now Milani was doing it too.
Milani, meanwhile, leaned against the log where Blade had been sitting just moments ago, her fingers playing absently with the hem of her sleeve. She still felt the ghost of amusement in her chest, the lingering warmth of an unfamiliar giddiness.
She thought back to Blade’s expressions—the rigid set of his jaw, the reluctant way he had forced out that almost-apology, the flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes before he ran from it.
Not as terrifying as he pretends to be, she mused.
More like a scarecrow.
She giggled. Then stopped. Then giggled again.
Did I just… giggle?
The sound startled her. It wasn’t something she was used to—it was rusty, unfamiliar. But she liked it.
She liked the feeling of being herself.
Settling onto the log, she let her mind wander through the whirlwind of emotions she had experienced over the past few days. Frustration. Worry. Anger. Fake tears. Real tears.
And now—
Something new.
She smiled and glanced up at the darkening sky. The moon had begun its quiet ascent, casting silver threads across the heavens, and she wondered—where had it been all this time?
But the thought was fleeting. As swiftly as it had come, her smile dissolved, wiped away by the weight of reality.
“Phaya is dead,” Laya’s voice was sharp, her tone laced with undisguised contempt. “Which means no one is left to protect you and that worthless sister of yours. You’re about as useful as toilet paper. Even my eight-year-old daughter has been on more missions than you.”
Milani met her gaze without flinching. “What mission would you have me take, Mistress?” She cut straight to the point, ignoring the taunt.
Laya smirked, lazily stroking the scales of her pet snake before letting it slither off the throne and disappear into the shadows.
“The Robes are in disarray—an internal conflict has one of their own on the run. This is the perfect opportunity to gather intel on them.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. “They’ve always been good at keeping their secrets buried. But now, one of their own is fleeing. Your job is to find them, extract every ounce of information you can, and report back to me.”
She smiled, but it was the kind of smile a snake gives before it strikes.
“Is that all, Mistress?” Milani’s voice was steady.
“Do as you’re told. Use whatever means necessary. When the mission is over, I’ll decide what happens next.”
Milani bowed and turned on her heel, stepping out of the opulent chamber. Outside, Mia, her ever-faithful maid, was waiting—her face already painted with worry.
“What did she say?” Mia asked before Milani had even fully stepped into view.
“She’s sending me after a Robe.”
Mia’s breath hitched. “The Robes and Scarlett Blades despise each other!” she whispered, as if afraid the very air might carry her words to unwanted ears.
“I know. But if I refuse, my sister becomes a pawn in Laya’s hands.” Milani exhaled. Then, hesitantly, she asked, “Is it true? That Phaya is dead?”
Mia hesitated. “I don’t know. I’ll find out.”
“Let’s hope it’s just a rumor.”
Mia grabbed Milani’s hands, squeezing them tightly. “You’re not really going, are you?”
“Phaya is gone. Kaya, the third in command, is as indifferent as stone. Laya has no interest in protecting us. If something goes wrong, tell me—who do we turn to?”
Mia had no answer.
“Don’t tell my sister anything.”
With that, Milani grabbed her cloak and strode toward the horse she had prepared earlier.
“Do you even know which Robe you’re looking for?” Mia called after her.
“Find out for me. Send word through a pigeon messenger.”
And with that, she mounted her horse and galloped away, so consumed by the urgency of her mission that she didn’t even pause to say goodbye.
As the wind howled past her, she lifted her gaze to the moon and whispered, “If there’s a deity listening, don’t let this mission be in vain. Protect my sister. She’s all I have left in this world.”
__________________________________✍
A rustling sound pulled Milani from the edges of sleep. It was subtle at first, but persistent. When it refused to stop, she forced herself awake—just in time to see Blade, fully dressed, slipping toward the small gate with Lenora strapped tightly to his back. A worn cloth held the child in place, while a modest-sized bag hung from his arm.
Alarm shot through her. “Where are you going?”
Blade didn’t even turn. “Where did I tell you I was going?”
Her chest tightened. “And you planned to leave me behind? After everything?”
His voice was calm, almost indifferent. “We don’t have the same destination. People meet, people part. That’s life.”
Before he could step through, Milani moved—swift and deliberate—landing squarely in front of the gate, blocking his path.
“Do you have no sense of loyalty?” she demanded. “You know Elder Hans has already seen my face. You leave, and I become an easy target.”
Blade barely spared her a glance. “He’s after me, not you.”
Her lips curled in frustration. “And yet, you’re taking Lenora. She’s my supposed daughter, remember? What am I supposed to say when people ask for her?”
His gaze was sharp, unreadable. “You’re a skilled liar. Surely, you’ll think of something.”
Milani exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “You’re really set on leaving without me.”
“Glad you understand. Now move.”
She didn’t budge. “We’re leaving together. Besides, who else is going to take care of Lenora?”
Blade’s patience thinned. “Do you think saving her once clears you of suspicion? Because it doesn’t.”
Milani smirked. “If I survived your wrath, I can survive your distrust. Look, I’m fleeing too. Once we reach a final destination, we can go our separate ways.”
“I don’t want to.”
He reached for the gate again, but she stood firm, pressing her foot against it. His strength began to overwhelm hers, so she acted fast—throwing a punch. He dodged effortlessly. She struck again, this time with her left hand. He caught her wrist mid-air, his grip like iron.
Her free hand moved instinctively, pulling at the strap holding Lenora.
Blade’s eyes widened as the child slipped from his back. Without hesitation, he released Milani and caught Lenora.
That split second was all Milani needed. She delivered a sharp backhand slap across his face and, with a single fluid motion, snatched Lenora into her arms before he could react.
All of it had happened in a mere heartbeat.
Blade exhaled, rubbing his cheek where she had struck him. “You’ve shown your true skill again.”
Milani met his gaze, unwavering. “No one loves Lenora like I do. And whether you admit it or not, you need my help.”
Blade’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing. Instead, he grabbed the bag he had dropped during the skirmish and walked out of the compound.
Milani, still holding Lenora, followed—wearing the smirk of victory.
