My entire body loosens as I enjoy the comfort of the chair.
I think back to the train I used to take every day to the mountains and this high-quality leather surpasses every single fiber on the metal chair back there.
I gaze at the buildings speeding by but my thoughts think back to Gwen.
How?
How did she figure out that shotgun was mine?
There were many questions left unanswered in my mind.
But thank god I managed to make her lose interest in me as the attention of one of the main heroines would cause me trouble.
"Hey, Wyatt, easy on the drink huh, we don't want another girl to smell like sh*t, tonight."
"Shut the f*ck up, Kyle,"
Their chatter snapped me out of my thoughts.
I was currently in Mark's car which hovers a few feet from the ground.
I never thought it would be this comfortable as the first time I entered one was in the back of the trunk.
We were currently on our way to the grand celebration of the coldfeathers.
This past few days I started to cultivate a plan and also hone my skills.
I just hope that is enough.
"Oh, it seems we're here," I could feel the excitement in Kyle's voice.
It seems he really wants to have a taste of that expensive wine.
But as much as I want to try it I need to have a clear mind tonight.
As we go through the main gate of the elegant mansion.
From the window, I could see thousands of shimmering lights that pierces the night sky.
There were already a lot of people inside talking with one another on the balconies.
The car halted to a stop as we found a place to park.
I left the car and after seeing the numerous nobles around and above I feel my stomach churn.
I never really was a fan of crowded areas.
We all then made our way to the main entrance.
"Hey, is that guy a noble?" One of the knights of Coldfeather who was stationed at the front stopped us.
But before I could speak, Kyle took something from his pockets and handed it over to the knight.
Upon clearer look, it was a pouch,
The knight looked to it on his hand and back to us and soon spoke.
"Just don't cause any problems, you understand?"
"Sure, sure, come on, Troi,"
Being rich sure is nice.
As we enter the grandeur mansion.
I was taken aback,
Exquisite chandeliers, silver candles, golden spoons.
Everything and anything inside just screamed wealth at me.
On the numerous tables were different types of food.
I would've drooled and stood there like a country bumpkin if I hadn't composed myself.
"All right guys, you read-"
Without a word Mark, and Kyle immediately made their way towards where the expensive wines are.
"These f*ckers, hey Troi, you coming?"
"Nah, you go ahead, Wyatt, gotta go to the restroom real quick."
"Hmmm, do you even know where it is?"
"I'll ask around, just join them, I'll catch up later,"
"Sure, man,"
I asked a servant who was serving food nearby to guide me.
And soon enough I found it.
As I enter one of the stalls.
I utter a chuckle.
"Even the toilets are gold,"
I shook my head and thought back to the novel.
[Inside the grandeur mansion of the coldfeathers, nobles across the lands were enjoying the finest of food and the oldest of wine.
People were laughing, and others were building connections, It was a grand celebration honoring none other than the daughter and lone successor of Gerald Coldfeather.
Cassandra.
Her hair was colored in fiery flame and her allure figure made every man in the room entranced by her beauty.
But they could look all they want, her golden eyes were already set upon one man.
Her long-life childhood friend.
Rain or shine,
He was there for her.
Jonssen Craw.
The party roared onto the night, its shimmering lights piercing through the city, the commoners could only watch from afar and imagine the nobles eating different types of cuisine that would cost them a month to lick.
But among the cheers and champagne.
A person shrouded in grey sharpens a blade with the intention to make Cassandra the family head much earlier.]
I let out a sigh,
If I don't do anything tonight,
Gerald the father of Cassandra, will die by the hand of an assassin tonight.
And not just any assassin but none other than the
The Traceless Terror.
A legendary assassin that cost Reynold his arm and right eye to defeat.
In my current state, I would stand no chance.
But still, I have to do something as Cassandra would lose her mind from the trauma.
So after days of thinking,
I was left with one option.
I reached into the mark on my chest.
[
As my breathing became hushed and my steps go silent.
I wore the spare clothes I brought and the metal mask on my face.
It is time to go to work.