Rosalinda, one of the twenty-three assassins, stood before . Two ters behind us was her target, Lady Beatrice, closely guarded by Joséphine.
It wasn’t a deal—it was blackmail. She was threatening a massacre unless I allowed her to murder Lady Beatrice first.
Even more shockingly, she stated I was free to kill her right after she killed Lady Beatrice.
In an ideal scenario, this would be the perfect outco: she does the dirty work, I get 50 million Berries from the system, and over 40 lives are spared.
What should I do?
"Would you keep your word?" I asked.
Rosalinda maintained her smile, "Of course." She answered.
"Oom-pah-pah."
The piano’s lody floated gently beneath our voices. At the sa ti, the rhythm of footsteps on the dance floor mingled with hushed conversations, offering just enough cover for the exchange between Rosalinda and .
I extended my hand to her. "Join for a dance," I said. "I’ll decide after asking you a few things."
With a faint smile, Rosalinda slipped her hand into mine. "Sure." She guided to the dance floor, her movents deliberate, graceful, and difficult not to notice.
On the dance floor, Rosalinda rested one hand on my left shoulder and clasped my right hand with the other.
"So then," she said, her grip steady as we swayed to the music, "what is it you want to ask ?"
As we began to dance, she moved quicker than expected, her leg brushing close, nearly landing on my foot.
"Be gentle, this is my second ti dancing the waltz."
Rosalinda froze for a beat, blinking twice. Her lips parted slightly as she turned her eyes from mine to my footwork.
"That’s unexpected," She lifted her chin, eyes narrowing slightly. "You an to say Lady Beatrice was your first waltz partner?"
"Yes," I replied.
Rosalinda slowed her pace. "I don’t have much ti, be direct, what do you want to know?"
"Suppose I give you the chance; distract Joséphine, let you make the kill," I said quietly. "I need to know why. Why do you want her dead, and why offer your own life in return?"
Rosalinda twisted her body, and I matched her step for step, shifting with her into a new pocket of the dance floor. Monts later, another couple slipped into the space we’d just vacated.
"Lady Beatrice is the most evil woman in this city," Rosalinda said, her gaze flicking toward the gilded statue where Beatrice stood, chatting idly with a guest.
My foot slid forward as Rosalinda stepped back in ti. "Strange," I said, voice low. " I was under the impression a psychopath kidnapped your family and ordered you to kill Lady Beatrice or watch them die."
"Oom-pah-pah."
Rosalinda let out a soft chuckle, her black lips curling as she turned her gaze aside.
I raised a brow. "I never took you for a justice hero aiming to get rid of the city’s biggest evil."
Rosalinda’s grip tightened, her nails digging into my shoulder. "You think I’m insane, don’t you?" she snapped.
I broke eye contact, shifting my attention to Lady Beatrice behind us. She was holding a glass of wine, laughing softly with soone beside her.
"Convince she is evil, and I will allow you to kill her," I said.
"Easy," Rosalinda Replied.
With a slight nod of her chin, she pointed in the direction of golden figures nearby, each one clutching perfu bags.
My eyes drifted to Lady Beatrice. Glass in hand, mid-conversation, she casually returned a bottle of perfu into one of the bags.
"Did you know?" she murmured, gaze fixed on the golden figures. "The statues were once alive. Killed, dipped in gold, and frozen like ornants just to hold perfu bags at a party."
A subtle, pleased smirk played on her lips. "Are you convinced she is evil?"
My eyes stayed locked on the statues, tracing every detail of their frozen forms as my mind pushed itself to the brink, trying to make sense of the horror.
"Are those statues actually people? Could they have been transford into gold statues in the sa way Lord Henry tried to turn into one?"
’Thud-thud.’
I caught the sound of footsteps behind ; too close, too sudden. Before I could turn, a hand ca down on my shoulder.
"It seems soone is getting carried away?" a voice said.
I glanced over my shoulder only to find Cupcake standing next to . Rosalinda and I ca to a halt, our attention shifting to her in perfect unison.
Cupcake leaned in, her left fingers curling around my collar. Her other hand stayed raised, two fingers crossed.
"You belong only to . Have you forgotten that, darling?" she said.
Cupcake collapsed against my chest, and her pupils dilated like ink in water. "Don’t you understand? No one else gets to touch what’s mine."
"Calm down," I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. I tried to push her back, but she wouldn’t budge; her body was heavy like a boulder.
"I’ll have to remind you, won’t I? Remind you of where your loyalties lie." Cupcake glanced at Rosalinda. "Did her scent cling to you?"
"Leave Rosalinda out of this," I said, finally pushing Cupcake away.
Cupcake stood close, the sweep of her black gown brushing the floor, twin tails framing her face. "Who is Rosalinda?" she asked.
I gestured toward Rosalinda, "her."
Cupcake turned her gaze toward Rosalinda. "You’re lying to ," she said.
"Why would I keep her na from you?" I asked
Cupcake moved past like I wasn’t there. The black folds of her gown were swaying.
She stepped in close to Rosalinda, leaned forward, and breathed in the scent at her chest. "Are you Rosalinda?" she asked.
"Yes," Rosalinda responded, swiveling her upper body to face , her eyes conveying a clear ssage: get rid of Cupcake.
Cupcake’s eyes stiffened, her cold deanor darkening further. "I hate liars," she muttered, almost too quiet to hear.
"Tell ," she said, her voice low as she lifted her chin, eyes fixed on Rosalinda. "What’s your na?"
"I don’t know you," Rosalinda said, her tone flat. "So what exactly makes you think I’d put up with your creepy behavior?"
That’s when it hit : Cupcake had erected a near-invisible barrier boxing the entire event hall, and she once told she could detect lies inside her barrier.
Snap if I don’t do anything, Cupcake will figure out Rosalinda is an assassin.
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