Of Daggers and Ledgers
Copyright© 2026 by CyndNoxhill
Chapter 8
They never spoke of what happened between them and went on with planning their infiltration. Days were spent with dancing and etiquette lessons. Aoba continued with mending her dress for a better fit, and Soren was mostly out, collecting information.
“Here’s the patrol schedule,” he said as he walked in and handed her a piece of paper.
She studied the schedule and routes, referencing them against the blueprint to check for blind spots.
“I can work with this.” She wrote down some notes on the blueprint.
Soren turned his attention to her, his expression all business. “Our cover story is solid. Lord and Lady Mossworth. We’re reclusive, wealthy, and notoriously private. We’re in town to discuss a shipping venture with Caldris, which gives us a legitimate reason to be there. We have forged documents and even letters of introduction if the need to present one arises.”
“At least we’re getting help. I don’t think a person could pull this off solo,” she let out a sigh, crossing her arms.
“Caldris wronged a lot of people, but they all have more to lose if they retaliate, unlike us.” Soren gave Aoba a meaningful look, and she nodded.
“If we die, we die.”
He paused, his gaze softening slightly. “You’re the key, Aoba. The one who will get us into the study.”
He stepped forward, standing closer to her by the table. “Be the airheaded but coy lady. Mingle, flirt, gather information. Be the beautiful, distracted wife while I handle the business talks. This way, you don’t have to memorize anything other than the layout and focus on being the diversion.”
“I’ll do my best,” she moved to roll the blueprint, but Soren stopped her hand. He laced his fingers with hers, and she didn’t mind it. “If you’re looking for a repeat of the other night—,” she said before he cut her off.
“I do.” His eyes were intense, then he shook his head. “But not like that.”
“And not now,” Aoba reminded him, taking her hand away and rolling the blueprint. “We still have much to do.”
She walked past him, heading for the stairs. Then she paused, clenching the blueprint in her hand. She made a half-turn, not looking at him. “After,” she said, “If we both come out alive.”
“Deal,” he replied.
Three days before the gala, they traveled toward the luxury inn Soren had arranged for them to stay in. The inn owner was a supporter of the cause, having almost lost his property and his whole family to Caldris and his goons.
Inside the room, Aoba narrowed her eyes when she saw the king-size bed and glared at Soren.
“We’re husband and wife, Lady Mossworth. It would be suspicious if we slept separately.”
“Whatever,” she said, letting out a weary sigh. She took off her traveling cloak and put everything from her satchel into the closet.
Soren had already arranged for the dress and suit to be delivered on a later day.
“You’ll be taken care of tomorrow and on the morning of the gala. I’ll be out to clean up loose ends.”
By that, he meant emptying everything that was in the safe house. Burn their notes and dispose of anything that could be used to trace them.
Something tugged in her chest. The end was nigh, and Aoba hadn’t really thought about the aftermath. He’ll free her of her job, and the blood debt between them will be paid in full. They’ll probably spend a night together ... Then what?
“What is it that you’re planning to do with the ledger, Soren?” Aoba asked. The sudden question caught him off guard. “You never gave me a straight answer.”
He didn’t answer her immediately, then he tapped his fingers on the bed frame. “I don’t know. Take over his empire, sit on his throne.” He shrugged.
“You don’t...,” she let out a bitter laugh, running a hand down her face. “You once told me that you wanted to destroy everything he’s ever built. That’s why the extra time to get that fucking ledger. And now you’re telling me you don’t know?” She threw her hands up.
“I wanted to kill every single person listed in that ledger.” Soren’s voice was ice cold, his eyes were hard as steel. It’s been a while since she’d seen him like this.
“But,” he glanced at her, then looked away. “Maybe replacing him won’t be so bad. Because this is the final twist, Aoba.” He straightened up, bracing for her punches or even a dagger to be thrown at him. “Caldris is my twin brother.”
Aoba froze.
“Twins?” she backed to the wall. Her heart was pounding.
“That’s why this gala is the one I’ve been waiting for. A masquerade, finally.”
“You want to kill your own brother?” She was gasping for air.
“He tried to get me killed, to this day, he’s still hunting me down. I’m only returning the favor.”
They stood in silence. Aoba felt a new sense of dread washing over her. For almost two months, she had been with him, even shared an intimate night. She knew that he was capable of many things, but spilling his own blood wasn’t on that list.
“You scared of me now?” He broke the silence first, his eyes on her, unapologetic.
“Yes,” she admitted, but straightened herself up. “But ... I can’t ... condemn you.”
She pushed herself off the wall and walked towards him, her hand finding his, slipping her fingers in between his. Soren tightened his hand, pulling her closer, and held her head against his chest.
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