Chapter 117: Night attack

He was a middle-aged man, robust but not athletic, with neatly trimmed gray hair, a matching mustache, and dark brown eyes that, like a lake in an ancient, unvisited forest, gave an indescribable sense of depth. He wore a brown shirt with a red silk tie and black shoes that gleamed with a recent polish. His posture exuded natural authority and a habit of command; he seemed capable of reading people’s minds and intimidating them. His eyes were wrinkled, but I also detected a certain weariness in the lines around them. A powerful man under pressure.

—It’s becoming a habit. I wonder how many there have been so far —added the woman beside him with a slightly mocking tone.

This second person, more than his wife, seemed to be Daphne’s older sister. She bore striking similarities to my host but was more mature, with long blonde hair reaching her shoulders and calculating blue eyes. She wore a short-sleeved pink dress that, by its cut and material, I estimated would cost enough to feed a family for months, complemented by red high-heeled shoes that matched small details on her dress.

—Thank you for the lodging —I bowed slightly upon seeing them, acting courteously, carefully modulating my voice to project respect without servility.

—It’s fine, it’s fine. Act as if you were at home —the father replied with a dismissive gesture that I interpreted as a sign he habitually tolerated his daughter’s initiatives.

Daphne smiled carefree, opening her arms to emphasize her point. The older sister laughed at the scene.

—If we help others, happiness will come to us, right? —she commented with a tone oscillating between sincerity and irony.

—Sister! I don’t do it for that! —Daphne protested, her cheeks flushing.

—Just kidding —her sister flashed a radiant smile that didn’t fully reach her eyes.

—Come with me —Daphne bid her family farewell with a casual gesture as she led me to another part of the mansion —. You must be hungry, and while we eat, you can tell me more about yourself.

I followed her while assessing the family dynamic I had just witnessed. Certainly, they were a high-status, privileged family. The father, seemingly preoccupied with external matters. The older sister, slightly cynical. And Daphne, idealistic and possibly naive.

Her study turned out to be a circular room located in one of the mansion’s towers. Bookshelves filled with volumes lined the walls from floor to ceiling, and a bronze telescope—which I estimated was worth more than everything I owned—pointed toward the night sky through a panoramic window. In the center, a round table was already set with steaming dishes, fresh fruits, and a pitcher of what appeared to be wild berry juice.

—Sit, please —Daphne took a seat and gestured to the chair across from her—. I hope you like lamb stew. It’s our cook’s specialty.

I sat cautiously, noting the silver cutlery and intricately embroidered linen napkins. Even the plates seemed like works of art, with delicate hand-painted floral motifs. I estimated that a single set of this tableware could feed a family from the settlement I supposedly came from for an entire year.

—It’s very kind of you to offer shelter to a stranger —I commented, calculating the best way to steer the conversation toward useful information about the disappearances—. Is this something you do often.

—My mother used to do it —Daphne smiled with nostalgia as she served the stew onto my plate—. She said our fortune morally obligated us to share it. Since she passed away, I try to honor her memory by continuing that tradition.

—My condolences —I replied sincerely, recognizing the genuine pain in her eyes. Though my mission was the priority, I couldn’t help feeling empathy for her loss—. It must be hard.

—It is —she nodded, and for a moment, I glimpsed vulnerability in her expression—. But every person I help makes me feel like she’s smiling somewhere. My father tolerates it, though he’s more preoccupied with… other matters.

This was the opportunity I’d been waiting for. Careful not to seem overly interested, I crafted my next question while tasting the stew, which was incredibly delicious. The aroma of herbs and spices reminded me I hadn’t eaten properly in days.

—What kind of matters? —I asked casually.

—Times are complicated in Sherazade —her expression darkened slightly, and I noticed her fingers tighten around her spoon—. There are tensions. Disappearances. My father barely sleeps trying to solve these problems.

—I’ve heard rumors about those disappearances —I commented with a concerned but not alarmed tone—. Is it as bad as they say?

—Worse, I’m afraid, —Daphne sighed, lowering her spoon and looking out the window at the illuminated city—. Nearly thirty people in the last month. No apparent pattern: young, old, rich, poor… They just vanish without a trace. The Council fears it’s the work of insurgents from Danafor, but my father isn’t convinced.

Thirty people. The figure was significantly higher than the data Mica had provided before sending me on this mission. The situation had escalated, and I wondered how many details were being withheld from the public.

—And what does he think? —I tried not to show the intense interest I truly felt.

—That there’s a group of assassins targeting their victims at night, terrorizing Sherazade—she replied in a low voice, as if afraid someone other than me might hear—. They usually target high-ranking executives and the noble class.

A group of assassins. This information aligned perfectly with the initial suspicions Mica had shared before sending me on this mission. I needed to dig deeper, to get more details, names, patterns, but prudence dictated I proceed subtly to avoid raising suspicion. I decided that for now, I had gathered enough initial information and that the wisest course was to pause the conversation here, build trust, and seek more data in the coming days.

—Thank you for everything today —I said after finishing the delicious dinner, showing genuine gratitude.

—We all help each other —Daphne replied with a radiant smile—. —Do something good for someone too!

Her idealism was touching and, in a way, reminded me why I was undertaking this dangerous mission: to protect innocent people like her—and my siblings, who now depended on me—from threats they didn’t fully comprehend.

—Sure —I nodded, thinking of the irony that my way of «doing something good» involved infiltrating Sherazade’s most dangerous circles to uncover the truth behind the disappearances.

I bid Daphne farewell and followed the butler Edgar to the room assigned for my rest.

The guest room turned out to be nearly as large as a living room. A canopied bed, carved wooden furniture, and a window offering a perfect view of the rear gardens and, beyond, the city of Sherazade stretching to the horizon.

As I lay on the luxurious bed, more comfortable than any place I had ever slept, I thought of Mica and her final instructions: «Don’t fully trust anyone, not even those who seem friendly. Sometimes, the warmest smile hides the darkest secrets.»

The mission would soon begin, and Daphne and her family were caught in a hurricane that threatened to destroy everything in its path.