Episode 5
Enoch’s face went blank. Jerel, walking over slowly, clicked his tongue at him.
Jerel knew how annoying it was to have to deal with a dead body in broad daylight. Even worse if there were witnesses. He gave a quick signal, and guys who seemed to appear out of nowhere flowed into the café.
They were neat young men in black suits with polite smiles. Politely, almost formally, they said, “Excuse us, guests. We’re closing for the day — could you please leave?”
“Uh—?”
“We look forward to seeing you again.”
“Uh…?”
Rania was stunned. This is my shop…? She jumped up to stop them — after all, who’d come back if she kicked customers out? — but before she could say anything, the patrons drained away like someone had spooked them. Tables and chairs were stacked calmly and efficiently. The open windows were shut. Jerel walked in last. It happened in a blink.
Robel — still sweating and held by Enoch’s hand on his neck — stared at Rania like he wanted to ask what was going on. Rania shook her head without thinking. I don’t know either.
Jerel, having taken off his glove, moved behind Enoch.
“We’re done clearing up, Master. We’ll control the streets outside.”
“Master? Control the streets?” Robel gulped.
Robel had always relied on his looks to get by, but he wasn’t dumb — he’d learned to sense danger. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t still be alive after making so many women cry. Right now alarms blared in his head: This is bad. Very bad.
Enoch, who’d been thinking of ways to make Robel suffer worse than death, smiled again.
“Take him away.”
“Not deal with him right now?”
“I’ve got a better idea. And something more important to do right now.”
Enoch glanced at Rania and reddened a little. Jerel’s face went pale. He knocked Robel out cleanly, passed him to his men, and didn’t show any more emotion. He’d taken off his gloves for nothing, maybe.
While Jerel dabbed his hands with a handkerchief, Enoch walked to Rania. And Rania saw it — the marks on the necks and hands of those brazen thugs who’d taken over her shop. The emblem stamped into their skin.
In this empire there were tons of guilds, so it’s hard to know every mark, but some emblems everyone recognizes.
First: the merchant guild with the scales and coins — t, the Golden Scales. Huge trading houses, suppliers to the palace and most noble houses.
Second: the information guild, the Whispering Observers — emblem is an owl with one eye shut. Rumor says they can find anything for a price, even secrets about the emperor.
Third: an adventurer guild that’s basically untouchable — officially they do escorts and monster hunts, but in reality they run weapon smuggling, black markets, and assassinations. They’re tightly knit and powerful.
The emblem Rania saw was the Night’s Eye — an eye overlapping a dagger. She realized with a chill: that was it.
“Hey, pretty. We meet again.” Enoch greeted, and Rania went pale.
“We’ve got a lot to talk about. Got some time?”
If she said no, it wouldn’t just be a refusal — it would sound like a threat.
Master… the leader of Night’s Eye… Rania remembered their night together and had to nod silently.
Clatter. Behind the counter, the men worked fast. They brewed the beans, mixed cream, set cups out — smoother and faster than Rania ever managed.
Soon a coffee with whipped cream was in front of Jerel, and a bottle of the fruit wine Rania had hidden sat in front of Enoch and Rania. This is my shop, my liquor… she thought dumbly, but she felt too scared to speak.
Enoch, leaning on the counter, looked at Rania with a small smile while she kept her head down. “Pretty,” he said.
Rania’s shoulders twitched. That was her nickname, right? She slowly lifted her face, remembering how he’d called her that. When Enoch’s red eyes softened, she blurted, “Y-yes!”
“Why so surprised? You woke up and no one was beside you — you must’ve been lonely. Don’t you remember? We had a hot night.”
Rania’s face went flaming red.
She didn’t remember everything. Actually, she remembered some — the wild animal she’d been, tearing his shirt, the way she’d acted like a maniac. She bowed her head like a criminal. “I—I remember… a little… yes…”
“See? You remember. You did all that, so of course you remember.” Enoch smirked at Jerel, like “told you so.” Jerel sighed, looking at the poor girl who didn’t know her own situation.
They claimed nothing bad happened overnight — they said they’d only drunk and sung until they were exhausted. If you think of it simply, it was a hot night, in the sense of burning liquor and loud merriment.
Jerel didn’t react much because he knew Enoch was teasing. But Rania nearly lost it. She couldn’t believe she’d lost control in front of such a handsome man. She felt like she had no dignity — same as Robel had done to her.
Enoch asked again, with that smile: “So, why did our pretty girl run away?”
Rania closed her lips tight. How could she in this without embarrassing herself?
She scrubbed her brain for a polite excuse. Finally, she mumbled, “I— I was embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed? About what? Throwing a drunken fit?”
“That, and… um—”
“You mean ripping my clothes, grabbing my chest and stomach, kissing me all over? Or crying that there wasn’t enough to drink and hitting me? Any of that would be embarrassing, yeah.”
Rania wanted to cry. What the hell did I do, past me? She would’ve paid a fortune to have her memory erased. People shouldn’t have to live with guilt, but then again, these guys were worse.
“Master.” Jerel — who’d been calmly savoring his coffee — glanced at Rania’s pale face and called to Enoch. He used the word “Master” unusually gently, deliberately; it pushed Enoch to get to the point.
Rania felt bleak hearing that word. Enoch took a sip of the fruit wine, licked his lips, and — despite Jerel nudging — grinned playfully. He spoke to Rania again.
“Don’t worry. Between us…”
“Between us what?” Rania wanted to ask, but she was a little person who played it safe. Asking might only bring regret.
She quietly hoped Enoch wouldn’t say something like “Are you scared of me?” or “Why are you so frightened?” — but her hope was wishful thinking.
“Are you afraid of me? Why are you so scared?” Enoch teased. It was inevitable — she was cornered.
