“Get on with it, then,” she said, raising her voice the slightest amount. If only the servant outside would hear her voice, realize she spoke with someone when she was supposed to be alone.
“Gladly.”
So close to her right ear she felt the heat of his breath on her skin. Her entire body tensed, and in that half second, she felt a tug on her blankets and movement beneath her pillow. Before she could react, Muzien ripped the dagger from her hand. A soft thud told her it landed on the carpet below, far out of reach. She thought to dive for it anyway, but a hand closed around her throat and slammed her back down atop her pillow.
“Now is a time to listen,” the elf whispered into her ear, “not make foolish plans to attack me, nor vain attempts to alert the servant outside your door. I killed her, Alyssa. She’s bleeding out in your closet as we speak, so before someone notices her absence, you and I must come to an understanding. Have I made myself clear?”
His grip tightened, and though she opened her mouth to answer, she could not make a sound. Her hands clutched at his wrist, fingernails scratching hard enough to draw blood, yet it relented not the slightest amount.
“I asked, Have I made myself clear?”
It loosened the tiniest bit, and she gasped in air.
“Yes,” she said, voice hoarse and painful to her own ears.
“Excellent.”
Gone was the hand, her bed shifting as his weight upon it was removed. Alyssa lay there, still covered by the blankets, and did her best to regain her composure.
“I saved you for last,” Muzien said, and by the way his voice traveled, she imagined him pacing before her at the foot of the bed. “Every other man and woman of power in this city, I have crossed paths with. No one may claim I came to Veldaren like a thief in the night. No one may feign ignorance or surprise by what happens tomorrow. For everyone, from the highest king to the lowliest serf, there are only two options: compliance or rebellion.”
“Compliance with what?” she dared ask, and it hurt her throat to speak.
“My demands,” Muzien said. “You see, Alyssa, the night is mine now. I own it and keep it in my pocket like I would a coin or key. No one will take it from me, nor challenge me for it. The Sun Guild has claimed every street, every corner, every shop, every stall. Even the king has agreed to look the other way, granting us immunity from his soldiers and guards. So, as you sit here, I want you to realize how alone you are. You’ve proven troublesome in your past, fiery and stubborn, but now is a time for wisdom, not passion. Can you do that for me, Alyssa?”
She wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but that would only make her night worse. Instead, she nodded and kept her mouth shut.
“Excellent. Quiet, obedient. You’re learning, so here is the next lesson. The deal you’ve struck between the Trifect and the thief guilds, this Watcher’s truce, it ends tonight.”
“You’d plunge this city back into chaos?” she asked.
“On the contrary, Alyssa, I would give it a proper peace. What you’ve created is a mockery of order, and it was doomed to fail whether I came here or not. But here I am, and I will not allow it to stand. The guilds are mine, all of them. The men who signed those signatures are either dead or bow their knees to me. We will do whatever we wish to do, take from whomever we wish to take. Only one thing will stop us: gold.”
“That’s it? You just want protection money? How is that any different from what we had before?”
She felt the bed sink the tiniest bit from the elf sitting on one of the corners.
“It comes down to power, Alyssa. There will be no enforcer beyond myself. The terms will be decided by me and me alone. You will hand over coin, and through my good grace, you will be spared any wrath. The same will go for every other shop and tavern and brothel that operates within Veldaren’s walls. No one will sell the smallest scrap of bread without my approval and my cut. Consider it a tax paid to the rightful king of our fair city.”
Alyssa was stunned by what she heard. The elf believed it, every word. He truly thought the entirety of Veldaren was his. The frightening part was how close to the truth it might actually be.
“You reach too far,” she said. “The king will call his armies from across Neldar. Lord Stern Blackwater in Angelport will hear of this, and he’ll prepare his own mercenaries. Even the temple to Ashhur will not stand for your enslavement.”
“King Vaelor could summon soldiers,” Muzien said, and he was close again, lurking, a cat playing with a mouse. “The priests might stumble out of their temple, hopeless to discover what is happening underneath their noses. Yes, even Stern might head north to protect his fellow members of the Trifect. But do you know what all those require, Alyssa?”
She felt his hand grab her face and turn it hard to the left. The skin was scaly and hot to the touch. It felt like the hand of a monster, and she whimpered at the pain it caused in her neck.
“What?” she asked as the silence lingered.
“Bravery, and I sense none of it in this forsaken place.”
He let her go, and she heard footsteps as he moved away, toward the door, she guessed.
“Tomorrow, I announce my presence to the city,” Muzien said. “My time of meetings and games will be over. This is your only chance, Alyssa; now give me your answer. Will you pay for protection against my might, or must I bury you like all others who have dared oppose me?”
She should do it, she knew. When Thren Felhorn had united the thief guilds, they’d been near impossible to destroy, and this elf seemed superior to Thren in every way … even in arrogance. It’d be so easy, too. All she had to do was whisper those simple words “I will” and she’d be in his pocket, no different from anyone else in the Trifect. No different from the other thief guilds or even their cowardly, infantile king.
No different …
“I never bowed to Thren,” she said. “I never bowed to the guilds nor the pressures of my title. I won’t bow to you, Muzien. Threaten me all you wish, but I’m tired of hiding in my home, trembling like a child.”
She thought he might react in anger, or even kill her, but instead, he laughed.
“Curious,” he said. “Daverik assured me the Gemcroft family would readily accept, yet that seemed counter to everything I knew about you, my dear Alyssa. It is good to know that my opinion of you was more accurate than that of a lowly priest.”
Priest? thought Alyssa. Daverik? What nonsense is this?
“You have your answer,” she said, doing her best to sit up straight and control the quiver in her voice. “Now leave me be.”
Muzien tsked at her from across the room.
“You’re making a mistake, Alyssa. No one must die needlessly, but then again, needless death has always been the mark of your house. As you humans like to say, ‘It is your funeral.’”
Something heavy landed in her lap atop the blankets, and she felt it with her fingers. The bronze bell the servants kept at the foot of her bed.
“You may summon your guards now,” Muzien said, and she could imagine him standing before her, so smug, so certain of himself. “It will be the last time they ever have warning.”
She heard footsteps, the sound of her door opening, followed by the shattering of a window in a distant room. Despite her hatred of it, she shook the bell with both hands, shook until she heard her door opening, heard the heavy boots of her guards rushing in. But one person, one whose footsteps were silent, arrived before any guard could.
“What happened?” asked Zusa, voice hovering just beside her.
“Muzien was here,” she said. “He wanted my allegiance.”
“What did you tell him?”
Soldiers were coming into the room now, and she felt their presence like a suffocating blanket. Still naked, she clutched her blankets tightly to her to preserve some modicum of modesty.