CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: A Moment of vulnerability
“Oh my goodness! Blade, come and look at this! It’s snow!” Milani’s excited voice shattered the quiet, rousing him from the light sleep he had barely settled into.
He considered ignoring her—perhaps willing himself back into slumber—but before he could even try, another gleeful cry pierced the air.
“Wowwwwww! It’s all whiteeee!!” Lenora’s voice trembled with awe, unfiltered and bright.
Blade groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. There was no use resisting now. The occasional squeals of excitement were growing louder, the tempo of their joy increasing with every second.
Dressed in nothing but a black vest and cargo pants, his shoulder-length hair tied back in a loose bun, he pulled open the door—only to be met by an unforgiving gust of icy wind. The sheer force of it sent a shiver down his spine, loosening his grip. The door slammed shut on its own.
The house had been warm—too warm, really—making it easy to forget just how merciless winter could be.
Bracing himself, he reopened the door, this time prepared for the chill. Stepping out, his gaze swept over the transformed landscape.
What had once been a dry, sand-colored courtyard now lay beneath a thick, undisturbed blanket of snow. The orange trees stood stoic beneath their new white coats, their leaves dusted with frost. From a distance, they resembled Christmas trees, glistening beneath the dull winter sky.
Milani and Lenora were already reveling in the moment, their footprints disrupting the pristine surface as they threw themselves onto the ground, making snow angels in their underdressed states.
Blade tilted his head back, his breath curling in the air as he took in the sky. It remained heavy with gray clouds, looming over the silent world. No birds in the air. No distant chirping. Just the hush of snowfall.
His quiet reverie didn’t last long. A force yanked him forward, dragging him off balance.
“Lenora—!”
Too late. He stumbled down the small steps, landing flat on his back, the cold sinking into his skin. Before he could even react, a sudden weight crashed onto his chest, knocking the breath from his lungs.
Lenora, all laughter and warmth, giggled against him, her voice vibrating through his ribs.
This was the happiest he had ever seen her.
“It’s getting cold, Lenora,” Milani called, rubbing her arms, her own excitement giving way to the creeping chill.
But Lenora was too enthralled, rolling off Blade and throwing herself into the snow again.
Blade sighed, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “Stand up,” he told her, extending a hand.
Lenora remained sprawled, face-down this time, her body imprinting another shape into the snow.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, scooping her up effortlessly. She squirmed in protest, arms outstretched toward her imperfect creations.
“Mr. White!” she whined, longing for her fallen angels.
“You’re getting naughty, Lenora,” Blade murmured in her ear.
She burst into laughter, wriggling as his voice tickled her skin.
“What? What’s so funny?” Blade asked, his own chuckle escaping before he could stop it.
Milani stepped forward, watching with amusement. Just as Lenora’s laughter began to subside, she struck—her fingers dancing over the girl’s sides in an impromptu tickle attack.
Lenora shrieked, kicking and writhing in Blade’s arms as he struggled to keep her from slipping.
Milani laughed, and Blade—without even realizing it—was smiling, warmth unfurling in his chest despite the cold.
Laughter echoed through the courtyard, pure and untainted.
For once, there was no blood, no shadows lurking in the corners of his world.
Just this.
_________________________________✍
Even after they retreated indoors, Lenora remained glued to the window, forehead pressed against the cold glass.
“You’ve been standing there for over fifteen minutes,” Blade remarked, crossing his arms. “Aren’t you going to move?”
Her breath fogged up the windowpane as she whispered, “It’ll disappear.”
Blade blinked. “The snow?” Amusement crept into his voice.
Milani joined them, rolling her eyes fondly. “The weather is freezing, Lenora. That’s why we’re staying inside.”
Lenora didn’t seem convinced.
Blade turned away, heading to the small kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water, taking slow sips. An idea took shape in his mind before he had even set the cup down.
“If it’s snowing, there must be deer or some wild game around. We could use the fur to keep warm,” he said casually.
Milani’s gaze snapped to him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She crossed her arms. “It’s never snowed here before—at least not in my memory. I doubt we’ll find any animals used to this climate.”
“There’s no harm in looking,” Blade countered, already reaching for his worn black cloak. “Besides, fresh meat for dinner sounds like a fair trade.”
Milani exhaled sharply, stepping closer to adjust his cloak. “This won’t be enough for the cold.”
He smirked. “It’ll do.”
“Then let us come with you. It’ll be faster,” she suggested.
“No,” he said immediately. “Stay inside. You and Lenora.”
Milani sighed but didn’t argue further.
As Blade reached for the door, he glanced over his shoulder. “Stay safe. Both of you.”
And with that, he stepped out, vanishing into the snow-covered world beyond.
Milani lingered by the window, her fingers curling against the glass.
She knew he would be fine.
Still, she whispered a silent prayer for his safe return.
__________________________________________✍
Milani gathered the orange peels from their recent snack, piling them onto a plate before stepping outside to dispose of them in the trash can by the door. She had already taken out the garbage earlier that day, unwilling to let the souring stench linger any longer.
While waiting for Blade, she kept Lenora occupied by teaching her a few defensive moves—simple techniques to block an incoming strike. Lenora picked them up quickly, but when she tried to merge them with what Blade had previously taught her, frustration set in. The lack of fluidity between the two sets of movements irritated her, and Milani, unfamiliar with Blade’s methods, had no solution.
To lighten the mood, Milani tricked Lenora into eating more oranges, feigning reluctance herself until the girl gave in. As they ate, she shared snippets of her past—her childhood struggles, the reckless mistakes she had made, and the unnecessary trouble she had brought upon herself. Time slipped by unnoticed, and before they realized it, they had consumed ten oranges between them.
Lenora licked her fingers, then looked up eagerly. “Everywhere is boring, Aunty Milani. Why don’t we play a game? Hide and seek?”
Milani, mindful of the mess that could ensue indoors, decided to discard the peels before responding. She hit the plate against the trash can a few times to shake off the last bits of fruit, then turned back toward the house, locking the door behind her.
“Okay. Who’s hiding and who’s seeking?” she asked.
“I’ll hide. I’m really good at it,” Lenora declared with bright enthusiasm.
“Oh really? Alright, I’ll count to ten.”
“Make it twenty,” Lenora bargained.
Milani smirked. “Deal. My counting starts… now!”
Before she could react, Lenora bolted out the door.
It took Milani half a second to register what had happened before she rushed after her, but whatever reprimand she had prepared died in her throat the moment Lenora came sprinting back, her face pale.
The scent hit Milani before her eyes even lifted.
Visitors. Unwelcome ones.
Lenora whimpered, and Milani instinctively pulled her behind her, pressing the girl close to her back as she retreated indoors. In one swift motion, she shoved Lenora inside and slammed the door shut behind her.
A voice—one that grated against Milani’s nerves like rusted metal—rang out in the courtyard.
“Why? You don’t want her to greet her elders?”
Milani’s fingers curled into a fist as she watched Laya stride into view, arrogance draped over her like a second skin. Behind her, five Scarlett Blades followed in synchronized steps, clad in the unmistakable black garb of the Shadow Guards.
Then, as if the situation wasn’t bad enough, another figure emerged.
The Elder.
Milani’s stomach clenched as she recognized the man from that rainy night. The fedora perched regally atop his head, and trailing behind him were seven men cloaked in different colors—four red, two brown, and one black.
The black cloak stood out. Unlike the others, his hood and mask concealed his features, leaving only his eyes visible. A Black Robe.
A realization dawned upon Milani like ice water over her skin.
Both factions—Scarlett Blades and the Robes—had arrived at the same time.
A chance.
If she could pit them against each other, she might just be able to escape with Lenora in the chaos.
Her mind raced, but the Elder’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Is this how you train your students? No proper greeting for the elders?”
“Ignore her lack of manners,” Laya cut in, waving a hand dismissively. “She may be tactless, but she served her purpose well—luring that bastard away.”
Milani stiffened.
They were working together?
Her body trembled, but she fought to maintain composure. She couldn’t afford to lose control—not now. Her gaze darted around the room, searching for anything that could serve as a weapon.
Nothing.
She was unarmed, outnumbered, and standing against the most elite assassins from both organizations.
But she had to protect Lenora. No matter what.
Laya’s voice, sharp with impatience, sliced through the silence.
“What are you waiting for? Bring the child out.”
Milani feigned confusion, tilting her head. “What child?”
Laya’s expression darkened. “What child did we make a deal over?!”
Milani’s lips curled into a faux realization. “Oh! That child. Let me go get her for you.”
She turned on her heel and disappeared inside before they could react.
Laya didn’t take the bait. “Follow her,” she ordered the five guards at her side.
Milani heard their approaching footsteps as she reached for the door. She moved fast. The moment she was inside, she bolted it shut.
One of the guards attempted to open it, then turned back. “It’s locked, Mistress.”
Laya clicked her tongue, striding forward in irritation. “I hope that bitch isn’t trying to play—”
Her words were cut off by the Elder’s sudden, sharp movement.
At that moment, Milani burst through the door and flung a substance at the Scarlett Blades.
Then she struck a match.
Flames erupted in an instant.
Screams filled the once-still courtyard as the shadow guards flailed, fire consuming their uniforms as they staggered and writhed. Some collapsed into the snow, desperate to smother the flames, while two Red Robes attempted to help—only to suffer burns themselves.
Laya shoved the burning guards into the snow, and they rolled frantically, their bodies smoking like charred fish.
Elder Hans’ laughter rang out. “I told you she’d play games.”
Laya seethed, her fury palpable. She lunged forward, but the Elder caught her wrist mid-charge.
“Don’t bother,” he murmured, his eyes following the faint silhouette disappearing into the distance.
Milani was already gone.
And on her back, a basket.
Laya’s fury reached its peak. “I don’t care if you have to cross the seven seas—find that bitch. Alive or dead!”
