The estate was smaller than Vale Manor, but warmer. Cozier.
Built of pale stone and dark wood, the affiliate house sat at the edge of a quiet cliffside overlooking the forest valley. The wind here smelled like pine and morning dew. The villagers nearby greeted Noah with cautious bows and curious glances.
The strange part?
They looked at him like he was someone important. Someone dangerous.
Even though he wasn't.
Not really.
He stood near the veranda, sipping warm tea while watching the breeze ripple through the tall grass.
Yuni walked beside him, arms folded loosely.
"They treat me like I'm special," Noah muttered.
She looked at him. "Maybe you are."
He scoffed. "I don't glow. I don't command soldiers. I don't even have a sword worth swinging."
"But you have presence," she said softly.
Noah didn't reply. He didn't know how.
As the sun began to dip behind the clouds, Noah turned to the group of maidservants preparing the dinner trays. Their laughter floated through the open garden path.
"I think it's time to head back," he said, stretching.
One of the servants nodded. "It'll be dark soon. We can take the long trail down or the faster path through the east woods."
"Faster," Noah said. "We've got Yuni. What's the worst that can happen?"
The wind shifted.
And far above, the clouds began to break.
It started with a few drops.
Then a drizzle.
Then the rain fell hard—so sudden, so loud it swallowed their footsteps.
Noah pulled up his hood as the group moved quickly through the narrow forest path. Trees leaned in from both sides, leaves hissing with each raindrop.
"We should've brought a cloak," one of the maids mumbled.
Yuni was quiet, her eyes scanning ahead.
Then… she stopped.
Noah nearly bumped into her.
"What is it?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
Her eyes were locked ahead.
There, slumped against the base of a tree, was a figure.
Small. Still. Cloaked in deep black, soaked in rain and blood. The earth around her was stained dark red. Her chest barely moved.
A dagger rested just out of reach.
Her face was hidden behind a broken mask.
"Someone's hurt," Noah said, stepping forward.
"Wait—!" Yuni grabbed his sleeve, but it was too late.
He crouched beside the figure.
"Hey," he said. "You're alive?"
The woman didn't respond. Just a faint breath escaped her lips.
"She's dying…" one of the servants whispered.
Noah pulled off his outer cloak and draped it over the woman's soaked shoulders.
He had no idea who she was.
No idea what she'd done.
No idea that this blood-soaked stranger… was The Black Thorn—a legendary assassin wanted across five provinces.
The same one his uncle had hunted for over thirteen years.
And now, bleeding out at his feet, she had come to him.