The Last Dahlia

001

The average brothel patron would not expect his night of revelry to end prematurely with three metres of red silk wrapped round his neck, snuffing out the last ounce of breath in his lungs.

Unfortunately, the man who was now lying dead on the bed was no average fellow, and someone had put a hefty price on his head.

Sitting close by with her legs propped up onto the table in an uncouth manner, a young girl dressed in the rich, colourful silks of a courtesan slowly peeled an orange, unperturbed by the corpse lying less than couple of feet away from her. She popped a slice into her mouth.

"Not bad, but the blood oranges back home are much sweeter."

The little canary with its flaming red feathers that was perched comfortably on her shoulder chirped something in response, sparking a retort from the girl. "Excuse me, I've worked hard tonight. I think I deserve a good break and something to fill my stomach don't you think?" she said. "I could eat a whole cow right now, not just a handful of lousy oranges."

Opening her mouth, she spat a couple of pips into the air. Some landed on the exposed rotund belly of the man who was no longer breathing. The girl glanced sideways, sighing.

"I don't understand why there are some people who are able to stuff their faces until their stomachs can balloon to this sort of a size, yet there are those who are just skin and bones. Life is so unfair, isn't it?"

She finished another two oranges and tossed their peels over her shoulder. Standing up, she looked down at the cheap, gaudy clothes she was wearing.

"How could anyone wear clothes like these every day?" she snorted in disgust. "You can barely walk without tripping over yourself, and it's all so ridiculously heavy."

She quickly ripped the fabric with one swift motion, removing some of the unnecessary baggage that was weighing her down. Then, she walked over to the bed and removed the red silk ribbon that had been responsible for claiming the man's last breath.

"I'll need to give this a good wash now." She scowled as she looked at the amount of oil that was oozing out from the man's pores, giving his face a shiny sheen.

Stuffing the silk ribbons up her sleeves, she hopped onto the window sill, looking out at the serene night scene down below. The street was deserted, with the only sounds coming from the raunchy activity that was still going on in the various brothel rooms.

"Come on, Ember," she said to her canary friend with a lazy yawn. "I think it's time to go to bed. Sun's almost up." With that, she leapt out from the window and vanished into the depths of the night.

#

The next morning, the capital city of the kingdom of Jin was thrown into a state of disarray. The Minister of the Royal Treasury had been murdered, and news spread like wildfire.

His body was found in the wee hours of the morning by the owner of the Peony Pavilion—the capital's most famous brothel—and the poor lady was so traumatised by her find that she fainted on the spot. When she awoke, sounds of her pitiful cries would be heard for miles. Her prolific business would now forever be tainted by this one calamity and would possibly never regain its heights of glory.

"That blasted Phoenix!" she screeched at the top of her lungs, and in an instant everyone in the city knew who was responsible for this grisly crime.

Of course it had to be the Phoenix. There was no one else in the five kingdoms who would have the guts to lay a finger on the Minister of the Royal Treasury. The man controlled the finances of the wealthiest of the five kingdoms and by extension, had even more power in his hands than the king of Jin himself.