The Assassin's Seven Principles of Manipulation

Chapter 196: Chapter 192 — Ah...

He had destroyed bases filled with dangerous Ascendants, crippled entire towns, killed so many people; he had done all of this very consciously, having planned methodically before acting.

Yet Zephyrion’s presence in this office felt more unconscious than anything. Like he was still asleep. His body had simply carried him towards the imposing Discipline Line without any real reason why. At least, no reason he agreed with.

Entering his sister’s office seemed to have awakened him from that slumber. He froze, unsure of what to do. Then he remembered how oddly she had reacted when he thanked her at the banquet. She had helped during the tribunal. So, he had improvised, bowing and thanking her.

But as he lifted his head, he was met with an odd sight. Ingrid was staring at him, her pen subtly trembling between her fingers. Her face was an expressionless mask. One could even say her gaze was intense.

Yet why was her hand trembling?

Was she angry? At the party it had been glaringly obvious she was fishing for gratitude. Had he been wrong? Maybe she didn’t actually like being thanked...

Zephyrion frowned, suddenly feeling unsure of what to do.

Luckily, Ingrid seemed to snap out of her trance at that moment. She spun the pen between her fingers, though the motion wasn’t nearly as smooth as it usually was.

”...is that all?”

Zephyrion wanted to nod and say yes, then leave. But he didn’t move an inch. He couldn’t. Somehow, he knew he was lying to himself. He hadn’t come all the way here just to say thank you, not when he could have easily sent a letter.

Zephyrion inwardly exhaled, staring at Ingrid, who was now watching him with an odd sort of expectation.

”Can I ask you a question?”

Ingrid nodded so quickly the motion almost blurred.

”Why did you help me? You want to be Head of House, don’t you? It was the perfect opportunity to bury me, yet you helped instead. You even managed to anger the Sarakhel while doing it. You might have cost yourself their support in the future. Why?”

Ingrid was silent. The pen had begun spinning faster between her fingers.

Zephyrion frowned.

”Was it because you care?”

The pen shot from Ingrid’s hand, striking the wall with enough force to bury itself deep into it.

Ingrid leaned back in her chair as though nothing had happened.

”Hmph, don’t be ridiculous.” She folded her arms. ”I did it because the Sarakhel went after a Calderalth. The day we allow that to happen without consequence is the day we stop being the rulers of the South.” She tapped a finger against the desk. ”That is all. Understand?”

”...yes.”

Somehow, Zephyrion felt unsatisfied with her response. He had expected more.

”Why are you asking?” Ingrid asked after a moment.

Zephyrion watched her silently, thoughts churning through his mind. Then he glanced towards the ward standing sentinel by the door.

Ingrid followed his gaze, immediately understanding. She gave a slight nod and the ward quietly excused herself.

As the door shut behind her, silence descended upon the office. Zephyrion felt his heartbeat echoing in his chest. He had never felt so hesitant in his life. Part of him wanted to leave it alone. To walk away and bury the question where no one could see it.

But the weight on his mind had become too much. He had to ask.

”...do you think I made a mistake?”

Ingrid frowned.

”Mistake?”

”Supporting Lumi.” He paused. ”Do you think I handled it badly?”

Ingrid blinked, shocked. Then she leaned back slightly and fell into thought.

Zephyrion patiently waited. His heart continued to pound. A part of him felt irritated that he had even asked the question. Yet another part desperately wanted the answer.

Eventually, Ingrid emerged from her thoughts.

”I’ll answer that with a question.” Ingrid said. ”If it were Mom, would you be asking me this?”

If it were his mother, many besides Menias and Betty would lose their lives. Heads would roll. The church would burn. He would unleash carnage upon the world.

Zephyrion slowly exhaled. He realized Ingrid was still watching him and forced himself to calm down before answering.

”No.”

”Then there’s your answer.” Ingrid leaned back in her chair. ”What exactly is supposed to be different?”

Zephyrion went rigid.

Ah...

He had been blind. So blind. He had followed a complete stranger, joined an order of assassins, done something so dangerous and potentially stupid just because of his mother.

From the very beginning, his decisions had been driven by emotion. He had dedicated his entire life to gaining power to find out what happened to her. To control the world and ensure they lived peacefully.

It had all been emotion. It had all been for her. His mother.

So what made Lumi different?

He had stood up for Lumi because he wanted to. Because he wouldn’t allow himself not to. Zephyrion had been so torn and conflicted because he believed he had broken the rule and betrayed his mother for Lumi. However, as it turned out, he had never truly followed that particular rule to begin with.

And still he was here. Still standing. Still chasing his goal.

He would never have endured brutal training without emotion, just as he would never have dealt the Sarakhel such a devastating blow without it. Emotion was what drove him to act.

It always had been. Which brought him to one conclusion... maybe those rules weren’t as absolute as he’d always thought.

Suddenly, the burden weighing on his mind vanished. His thoughts felt clear. For the first time in hours, he felt light.

Zephyrion smiled. He felt so stupid. The expression seemed to startle Ingrid. Her eyes widened and she blinked several times in quick succession.

Zephyrion inclined his head.

”Thank you.”

”...”

Zephyrion lifted his head and found Ingrid staring at him, completely still.

”...are you okay?”

”Y-yes.” Ingrid straightened in her seat almost immediately and waved a hand dismissively. ”It’s fine... it’s fine.”

She adjusted her collar. Zephyrion could see a faint sheen of sweat across her forehead.

Was it hot?

”I see...” he said slowly. ”Then I’ll take my leave.”

Ingrid watched the door close behind Zephyrion. Only then did she release the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

A hand rose to her chest. Her heart was beating far too fast. Why? He had only smiled. He had only thanked her. Yet she had nearly lost her composure...

Lina entered a moment later, staring at her lady curiously.

”...what did the young lord say, my lady?”

Ingrid opened her mouth, then closed it again. She remembered how hesitant Zephyrion had been to ask the question in the first place. Somehow, it didn’t feel right to repeat it to anyone else.

”Nothing important.” She gestured towards the stack of papers sprawled across the table. ”Deal with this.”

Lina frowned but didn’t probe further. Instead, her gaze drifted towards the documents.

”Oh? So you don’t need them anymore, my lady?”

”I don’t.”

”How surprising.” Lina tilted her head. ”I would’ve thought the documents you asked me to retrieve from the archives the moment you heard the young lord was coming would be quite important.”

Ingrid slowly turned towards her ward.

”What are you implying?”

”Implying?” Lina blinked innocently. ”Nothing at all, my lady. I was merely making sure you were finished with them.”

Ingrid stared at her. Lina maintained the smile for all of three seconds before clearing her throat.

”Lina.”

”...yes, my lady.”

”Take the documents.”

”Right away, my lady.”

She quickly gathered the documents and retreated.

Soon, Ingrid was alone once more. Her fingers lightly tapped against the desk as a complicated look settled on her face.

A moment later, she opened a side drawer and withdrew a single slip of paper.

Stamped above it was the sigil of the Ferran Military Academy. An anvil and hammer, with a completed sword suspended radiantly above them.

Ingrid stared at the document for what felt like an eternity. Again and again, her eyes passed over its contents.

Yet every time they did, the words seemed to blur together with the image of Zephyrion’s face. Eventually, she let out a long sigh and rubbed her forehead.

Then she glanced down at the paper once more and muttered,

”What the hell are you doing Ingrid...?”

...

The thunder of hooves striking earth rang out. Wind rushed against his face, whipping through his hair. Zephyrion’s grip tightened on the reins of his horse as they neared their destination.

Ahead, the Whitesteel, Selis, glanced back towards him.

”We’re almost there, young lord.”

Zephyrion gave a nod.

Besides him, Lumi and Tobias rode alongside him. Lumi looked like a peanut atop a horse. Her short legs barely reached halfway down its sides, and every step made it seem as though she might be launched off at any moment. Yet she rode with an excited grin, thoroughly enjoying the wind whipping through her hair.

Tobias, on the other hand, looked uneasy. Zephyrion could imagine the boy still carried some lingering fear from the last time they had been here.