Chapter 96: A Game of Darts

THWACK.

A small plastic dart with bright red feathers vibrated in the dark wood paneling, three inches to the left of the large imperial map.

Amber lowered her hand, bursting into helpless laughter.

"Okay, that was terrible," she admitted, leaning back into the soft cushions of the study armchair. "I was aiming for the southern lakes, but I think I just committed us to a swamp."

Evren chuckled, setting his teacup onto the mahogany desk. "The Great Black Mire. Mosquitoes the size of teacups and poisonous mud goblins. Truly a five-star vacation paradise."

Across the desk, Zephyra stood watching.

"Your elbow dropped two degrees at release," Zephyra noted with complete seriousness. "And your center of gravity was tilted too far back on your left heel. If that were a poisoned iron needle, it would have missed the jugular entirely."

Amber laughed even harder, holding her stomach. "Zephyra, it’s a pub game, not an execution!"

Evren picked up a second dart, this one fitted with dark blue feathers, and turned toward the silver-haired assassin.

"Your turn, shadowblade," he said, offering her the dart. "Pick where we spend the next week."

Zephyra looked at the flimsy plastic dart, then at Evren’s outstretched hand. Hesitantly, she took it.

The moment her fingers gripped the shaft, her posture shifted by pure instinct. Her knees bent, her shoulders squared, and her grip locked into a lethal, three-finger throwing grip designed to pierce titanium armor.

"Whoa, easy," Evren said with a grin, holding up a hand. "You’re not assassinating the corkboard. And no mana acceleration. In fact, you have to do this blind. Close your eyes, spin around once, and throw."

Zephyra paused, her violet eyes going wide with uncertainty.

For more than ten years in the shadow corps, closing her eyes in a room with other people was unthinkable. Blindness was death. Surrendering control was fatal.

She looked at Amber, who gave her an encouraging, warm nod. Then she looked at Evren, whose confident smile made her chest feel strangely light.

Taking a slow breath, Zephyra closed her eyes.

She turned in a smooth, fluid circle, paused for half a second, and flicked her wrist.

THWACK.

Zephyra opened her eyes immediately, her hand dropping toward her waist where her daggers normally rested.

The blue-feathered dart was buried half an inch deep into the map. It was planted squarely into a vibrant blue stretch of ocean bordered by white limestone cliffs and lush green hills.

Above the dart, golden cursive lettering marked the region: THE SAPPHIRE COAST — AZURE BAY.

Amber sat up straight, clapping her hands together in delight. "Azure Bay! Look at that! You hit the most gorgeous coastal retreat in the entire Empire!"

Zephyra blinked, staring at the map. "Did I hit a hostile border? Is it safe?"

"It’s the opposite of hostile," Evren laughed. "It’s turquoise water, white sand beaches, five-star seafood, and year-round sunshine."

Amber turned her gaze down to Zephyra, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully as she took in Zephyra’s fitted charcoal combat jacket, dark cargo pants, and heavy combat boots.

"Wait a minute," Amber said, tapping her chin. "Zephyra... what do you have in your travel bag?"

Zephyra looked down at herself, then back at Amber. "I packed two spare pairs of dark combat leathers, three sets of reinforced undershirts, and... I added a knife I took from the kitchen just in case."

Amber groaned in mock despair, looking at Evren. "Evren, we are going to an ultra-luxury beach resort, and our girl’s idea of casual wear is Kevlar and a knife."

Zephyra’s ears instantly turned bright red. "These clothes are practical! They resist slashing and allow full range of motion!"

"They also look like you’re about to raid a cartel compound," Amber teased gently, rising to her feet and wrapping an affectionate arm around Zephyra’s shoulders. "The moment we get to Azure Bay, you and I are going shopping. You’re getting sundresses, silk robes, and sandals."

Zephyra stiffened at the physical contact, but she didn’t pull away. A rare, flustered expression crossed her pale face as she looked down at the floor, completely defenseless against Amber’s sisterly warmth.

"Alright," Evren smiled, clapping his hands together. "Get some sleep. We roll out at first light."

—

The morning sun lit up the estate as the engines of the three armored SUVs hummed together.

Leaving the gates of Imperial Crest Manor behind, the convoy swept past the outskirts of Veridia and accelerated down the wide, multi-lane provincial highway.

Inside the spacious lead SUV, Amber wore a chic cream-colored linen shirt and dark sunglasses, leaning back comfortably in the leather seat. Zephyra sat across from them, still wearing her dark jacket, though she had left her tactical harness behind in her suitcase.

At the junction of Interstate 1 and Highway 7, the lead security driver smoothly guided the heavy vehicle onto the southern coastal bypass.

Two hours later, the scent of pine and ocean salt began to drift through the vehicle’s climate system.

The convoy crested the final coastal ridge, and the world opened up.

Below them lay the Sapphire Coast.

Large white cliffs dropped into water so clear it looked like bright blue topaz. Palm trees lined the shiny marble walkways along the shore, while white yachts floated across the calm, sheltered bay.

The security driver steered the convoy down a winding, private road framed by manicured cypress trees and iron gates, arriving at the grand marble entrance of The Grand Azure Sanctuary.

The resort was a legend among the imperial elite... a multi-tiered palace of whitewashed stone, cascading water fountains, and exclusive cliffside villas overlooking the ocean.

A valet in a gold-trimmed uniform opened the vehicle door with a bow.

Evren stepped out into the warm, tropical breeze. He took a deep breath, feeling the tension of the last month finally roll off his shoulders. Amber and Zephyra stepped down beside him.

They walked through the soaring glass archway into the grand marble lobby.

Behind the lapis-lazuli front desk stood the chief concierge, a sharp-nosed man named Laurent wearing a tailored silk waistcoat and a meticulously waxed mustache.

Laurent looked up from his ledger. His eyes swept over Evren’s casual bomber jacket, noted the provincial Veridia license plates on the armored SUVs parked outside, and a polite but distinctly cool smile appeared on his lips.

"Welcome to the Grand Azure Sanctuary, sir," Laurent said in an overly smooth tone. "Are you inquiring about our standard garden accommodations? We have a junior suite available in the East Pavilion. Three thousand dollars per night."

"We’re not interested in a garden suite," Evren replied evenly. "We want the Royal Sovereign Peninsula Villa."