10. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Lillith
W ith the poisoned tea incident fresh on my mind and Prince Asher seemingly unharmed, I keep a close eye on everything that runs through my fingers. Someone has tried to kill him, and that someone is still lurking among us. I have to find the culprit, not only for the prince's safety but because my own twisted plans for his corruption hinge on his survival.
As I continue to serve the guests, my eyes scan the crowd, searching for any sign of abnormal behavior or ill intent. That's when I spot him—Mister Rotting Hand. He stands near the edge of the party, dressed in a butler’s uniform, a white glove covering his hands. I can see just the slightest bit of his injury peek above it on one hand.
"Excuse me," I murmur to the guest I’m serving.
I quickly set down the tray of pastries and follow the villain as he slips out of the grand hall. I trail him through the winding corridors of the palace, my palms sweaty as I try to keep up with his surprisingly nimble movements. Finally, he ducks into a secluded courtyard, the shadows casting eerie patterns on the cobblestones beneath our feet.
"Who are you?" I demand, stepping into the moonlit clearing. "And why did you try to poison Prince Asher?"
"Ah, Lillith," the rotten hand man hisses, his voice a low, raspy growl. "I should've known you'd be the one to foil my plan."
"Answer my questions!" I bark, my hands balling into fists at my sides.
"Now what fun would that be?" He grins wickedly. “If you think hard enough, you will remember me. I'm a bit offended that you've forgotten. And as for the prince, well, he's an obstacle in the grand scheme of things."
"An obstacle that only I'm allowed to tamper with," I retort, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Is that so?" the man sneers, raising his rotten hand and sending a blast of dark magic toward me.
I dodge the attack, leaping to the side as the energy crackles against the stone wall behind me. Despite my unwillingness to use my magical abilities I am determined to put up a fight. Magic will be my last resort. I lunge at him, aiming a swift kick at his midsection.
"Feisty, aren't you?" he taunts, blocking my kick with ease .
"More than you can handle, apparently," I shoot back, narrowly avoiding another blast of his dark magic.
We continue our dance of attacks and counters, each of us growing more frustrated with the other's persistence. I know I can't keep this up forever. Without magic, I am at a clear disadvantage, but I refuse to let him get the better of me or endanger my prey any further.
"Give it up, Lillith," he growls, panting from exertion. "You'll never win this battle."
"Never underestimate a woman who's got something to protect," I reply defiantly, even as my limbs grow heavy and my breath comes in gasps.
Just as I prepare for another assault, he throws down a smoke bomb, and a thick cloud of black mist envelops us. I cough and choke, my eyes stinging as I try to see through the haze.
"Where are you?" I scream, spinning around in search of my elusive enemy, but it is no use. By the time the smoke clears, the man has vanished.
"Damn it!" I spit, slamming my fist against the cold stone wall.
My frustration bubbles over like a cauldron left on the fire for too long, and I can't help but feel the sting of defeat. I have failed to catch the rotten hand man, and Prince Asher is still in danger .
But there is no time to wallow in self-pity. Clenching my teeth, I turn on my heel and sprint back toward the gathering.