Prologue

Amidst the fierce snow storm, Alessia's bloody leather boots were buried in the thick snow at every step. Her open wounds were freezing just as much as she is despite her layers and layers of garments. Her teeth bared through the cold storm, determined to reach the palace and report her mission to His Majesty.

"Argh!" She grunted as the snowstorm in the meadows threw her to a nearby tree, rocking the birds and letting snow fall to her.  How is all the misfortune suddenly dumping on her? She begrudgingly rose back to her feet after huffing a heavy amount of snow that fell on her. The visibility was nearing zero around her because of the raging storm nearby which made it more difficult for her to return, and having the dozen men that came with her when she started this mission, she felt the responsibility of completing this mission heavier than the amount of snow on her back. She must return, for her men to be recognized for dying a heroic death. 

Finally, after the grueling torture of hell commonly called the woods, she reached the grand gates of the royal palace. With a limping right foot and hand over her bleeding left shoulder, she locked eyes with the guards and delivered a stare that shot right through their spine. 

Despite being unrecognizable with the amount of white snow that fell on her and the gross bloody clothes, her stare was enough of an introduction. 

"Open the gates! It's the King's Assassin!" 

Even at her state, none of the men had the guts to help her. She was a woman of great honor, and maybe greater pride, so the men around her didn't move an inch. All they did was open doors for her. Even the royal helpers that passed by her had the guts to shoot her a disgusted look. 

As the throne room's double doors opened, Alessia hung her head low for appearing in front of His Majesty in such a horrible state. But it was protocol that she report to him first after returning. 

"Your Majesty," she bowed with utmost respect. Her chocolate brown locks sticky with blood retained its mild glow as the sun rays met her hair. "Forgive me for the mess. The mercenary was a tricky target. He trapped us in multiple dangerous traps, every one of which deteriorated my troops. I apologize for only being able to return myself."

The King, clad in his formidable golden mantle while seated on his high-backed velvet chair and arm rest with a golden frame in the middle of the elevated platform as the flag of his kingdom — Caelum — was hung elegantly, nodded calmly. As if he expected it to happen. 

"Were they a burden to you?" His low, calm yet domineering voice reigned on all four corners. Alessia unconsciously gulped the lump in her throat. The men were kind and dedicated men, but they were a heavy baggage to carry around. They couldn't move unless ordered, they couldn't formulate their own strategies of combat, nor could they figure out teamwork. They were nice men, but hindered her from executing the mercenary cleaner than usual. She was an assassin, not a leader for soldiers. 

"Yes, Your Majesty." 

"Hmm. That was a test I tried and it failed." He nodded repeatedly and chuckled. Alessia's eyes slightly rose to him. "Make haste in healing yourself and embark on your next mission quickly. I assume this will take time in finishing." 

Her head rose but her eyes remained down. "Pardon me, Your Highness, but what mission am I to face next?"

From the tension in the room, she could already expect it'd be something about the entire kingdom's well-being again. He trusted her that much. If her shallow breathing isn't enough, her heart also starts to race. The corner of the King's mouth curled. 

"The Prince of the Dragon-borns is looming in the dark and will soon attempt to spark terror at the towns. Silence him, Alessia."