MALEVOLENT 25: Scarlet Party

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Like a good servant, Delilah slipped in without them noticing, her plain robes marking her status and making her invisible. Like any good assassin, she made no sound with her sandals against the marble flagstones, or as she circled the table looking for empty goblets to refill.

The rich merchants around the long table didn't spare her a glance. She only felt some hostile looks from the other two serving girls, which she ignored.

The men spoke of their mistresses – plural – and their wealth, new mines they had opened or deals they had made, and the calculation in their oily voices made her skin crawl. But they were clearly good businessmen, clearly top of the ladder, and it would be a waste to kill them all. She would kill only those bold enough to oppose her and let the others escape... Then, later, they would remember her and easily fall at her feet. Yes. This could benefit her more than she'd first thought...

Finally, a merchant tried the wine she'd poured and waved her over.

"Yes, my lord?" She hovered at his elbow.

"What is this stuff? I didn't try this before."

"Oddzian vintage courtesy of Lord Ern, sir."

"Lord Ern has finally recognised me, eh?"

Me. So this was Argo, he who was marked with death. Delilah let her eyes wander without settling, without lifting them too much or looking him in the face, wondering how and when best to do it. Not yet.

Argo demanded all his guests try the interesting new wine, and she had to work hard to keep the delight from her face as she carefully made a round of the table, filling each cup to the brim. She tried to ignore the predatory eyes that followed her despite the utter shapelessness of her dress.

The conversation wore on and Delilah remained in the shadows at the edge of the room, watching everybody drink. She carefully placed the jug down by her feet and waited. In her sleeve, her chosen dagger, the murder weapon, bumped against her arm.

She watched the mood shifting like a tangible thing above the table: the men growing sluggish after their food, and the wine slowly starting to take effect. She might have asked Nell to add a pinch of poppy seed extract. Their eyes began to grow glassy and their movements slower.

The other two servants began to clear plates and left, presumably to wash up, shooting Delilah furious looks when she made no move to help them.

Ungrateful urchins. Don't they realise I'm saving their lives?

Finally, she drifted towards Argo as adrenalin sparked inside her again. She reached over him as if to collect a glass, closer than she had been before.

He looked at her arm and, too late, she realised there was a spot of blood from her cut growing on the fabric.

There was a heartbeat of pregnant silence.

Argo started to move as Delilah flicked the knife out of her sleeve and drove it in. He'd shifted at the last second – instead of cleanly severing his throat, it punched into the space between his neck and shoulder, jarring against bone.

There was an uproar of movement as Argo shouted, chairs screeched, and people moved. Hands grabbed her and threw her away from him, still holding the knife, so blood began to flow from the hole she left.

"Seize her!" Argo shouted as Delilah twisted and lunged to get out of the way of the people converging around her. "She tried to kill me!"

Delilah's knife found its next home in a man's eye, driven up to the hilt. He crumpled, and when some of the more timid onlookers saw the snarl contorting her face, they bolted for the doors.

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