Elise pulled Luther by the hand, gently leading him as they ran toward her room, trying not to make a sound. Her laughter, though muffled, was contagious, and Luther couldn't help but smile as he followed her.
"Hurry! Before anyone sees us," Elise whispered between giggles, glancing back to make sure they weren't being followed. Luther felt a strange warmth in his chest as he watched her carefree demeanor—something he hadn't felt in a long time.
When they reached the door to her room, Elise stopped, pressing a finger to her lips. "Don't make a sound, okay?" she said, her tone playful as she flashed him a mischievous grin.
Luther nodded, and they both slipped inside, carefully closing the door behind them. As soon as it clicked shut, Elise grabbed his hand again and led him straight to her bed. The room was dimly lit, with just enough moonlight filtering through the window for Luther to make out his surroundings.
"You can sleep here with me," Elise said casually, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot beside her. "I don't mind."
Luther, visibly uncomfortable, raised a hand in protest. "No, it's fine. I can sleep on the floor, really. I don't want to bother you."
Elise frowned, clearly annoyed, and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Stop being so stubborn!" Before he could respond, she grabbed his arm and gave him a firm push, sending him tumbling onto the mattress.
"Elise, wait—!" Luther exclaimed, startled by her strength. But before he could say anything else, Elise climbed onto the bed and leaned over him, their faces suddenly mere inches apart. For a moment, silence filled the room, their breaths mingling as they stared at each other.
Luther felt heat rise to his cheeks as he looked at her. Elise, blushing, quickly averted her gaze before whispering nervously, "Don't look at me like that…"
The tenderness in her words and the closeness of the moment made Luther act without thinking. In a single motion, he leaned forward and kissed her. The kiss was soft at first, but it quickly deepened, as if both were releasing emotions they had been holding back. Their lips moved in sync, and for a fleeting moment, the world outside seemed to vanish.
When the kiss ended, Elise pulled back slightly, her face flushed. Without saying a word, she pulled the blanket over her head, hiding her expression. "We should sleep," she murmured, her voice barely audible with embarrassment.
Luther, also blushing, let out a quiet chuckle. "Alright," he replied with a genuine smile. He settled next to her, feeling a warmth in his chest he hadn't experienced in a long time.
Still under the blanket, Elise slowly shifted closer, resting her head against Luther's chest. Without needing to say anything else, they closed their eyes, allowing the exhaustion of the day to take over as the world outside fell silent.
Somewhere in the capital of the kingdom of Ethelia…
The night air was deceptively calm. The soft glow of torchlight illuminated empty streets, while shadows slithered between the buildings.
A group of hooded figures darted across rooftops, moving with the agility of predators in the dark. Their black cloaks billowed in the wind as they leapt from one building to another with precision that bordered on supernatural. Each movement was silent, calculated, as if the faintest noise could betray their presence.
As they approached the castle of Ethelia, one of the hooded figures slowed and moved closer to the leader, identified by the number 4 embroidered in red on his cloak.
"Hey, 4, are you sure there won't be any guards?" the figure whispered, their voice tinged with nervousness.
"I already told you, everything's under control," Number 4 replied coldly without turning his head. His voice was low and confident, filled with disdain. "I delayed the guard rotation. We have exactly 15 minutes before they return."
Another hooded figure, with a harsher voice, chimed in. "You'd better not screw this up, 4. If you want to keep getting the leader's favor, you'd better prove yourself."
Number 4 nodded, though his jaw tightened in irritation. A dangerous thought crossed his mind: "When I take over this damn kingdom," he seethed silently, "I'll make every one of you bastards pay."
The group pressed forward until they reached a window high up on one of the castle's towers. Number 4 pulled out a small tool and deftly unlocked the latch without making a sound. One by one, the hooded figures slipped inside, moving like living shadows.
They descended a spiral staircase, their footsteps muffled by leather soles. Number 4 led the way with the confidence of someone who knew the castle's layout intimately. Finally, they arrived at a dark, damp corridor. Number 4 reached for a torch mounted on the wall and twisted it, activating a hidden mechanism. With a low rumble, a secret passage opened before them.
The group advanced silently, the narrow passage leading them directly to the king's chambers. The room was dim, illuminated only by the pale moonlight streaming through the curtains. At the center, the elderly king lay in a grand, ornate bed, his breathing slow and heavy.
The hooded figures surrounded the bed, their expressions ranging from contempt to indifference. Number 4 stepped forward, drawing a dagger from his belt. The blade glinted in the moonlight as he stared at the king with icy detachment. Without hesitation, he plunged the dagger into the king's chest.
The king's eyes flew open, wide with pain and shock. His mouth moved as if to speak, and with a faint, strained voice, he managed to ask, "Why…?"
Before Number 4 could respond, a noise shattered the silence. One of the hooded figures had tripped, knocking over a vase that crashed loudly to the floor.
"You idiot!" one of them hissed as the others tensed, their eyes darting toward the door.
From the hallway, a guard shouted, "Who's there?" The sound of hurried footsteps grew closer.
"Damn it," Number 4 growled through clenched teeth. He reached into his pocket for a small metal object but didn't have time to use it. The door burst open, and guards stormed in, freezing at the sight before them.
"The king! Assassins!" one of the guards shouted, drawing his sword.
"Move!" Number 4 barked, leaping toward the window as the other hooded figures followed him in a frantic escape. They disappeared into the darkness, running across rooftops with the same eerie speed they had arrived.
The guards tried to pursue them, but the hooded figures knew the streets and alleys of the capital far too well. Within minutes, they had vanished completely, leaving behind only chaos and uncertainty in the heart of Ethelia.