Chapter 19 Sword Light Under the Moon
The sharp blade clashed against Anne's weapon as she blocked the attack.
The assassin jerked his head up, staring at Anne in disbelief.
With his skills, how could he possibly fail to deal with a sheltered noblewoman, especially when she clearly had no weapon.
Wait!
The assassin's gaze shot toward the wall.
Noble families generally liked to hang various decorations, and on the wall beside Anne, the decorative sword and shield now only had a silver shield remaining. Looking at Anne's hand—wasn't that the unsharpened sword!
Though the assassin felt things were going badly, he still didn't take Anne too seriously. After all, his employer had told him this woman came from nobility and usually only read and wrote. Her blocking his attack just now was probably just luck.
With this thought, the assassin turned to the right, preparing to thrust his dagger from the side of her chest to kill Anne directly.
But Anne was surprisingly calm, showing no panic or worry. More like it came naturally to her, she twisted and blocked, once again stopping the assassin's attack.
After several exchanges, the unease in the assassin's heart grew. He couldn't believe that after all his years as an assassin, he couldn't even handle a noble lady in a long dress!
This was utterly humiliating!
Anne showed little expression, but when her gaze fell on the blade, she couldn't help revealing a hint of nostalgia.
Ever since she agreed to Holden's proposal, her mother had never let her use a sword again, and the sword her father gave her in her youth had been left at Virlet Manor.
In her dreams she had picked up that sword countless times, following her father into battle, competing in dueling grounds, but after waking, Anne could only be a perfect wife.
Nobility didn't need wives who wielded swords. They only needed them to be beautiful and graceful, to bring prestige and honor, to bear children, to manage household affairs.
Now Anne gripped this decorative sword in her hand. Though it was just an ordinary ornament without a sharpened edge, the trembling from her soul couldn't be faked.
She still longed to pick up her sword.
Wherever the blade pointed, she would not lose!
Anne's sword moves gradually became sharper, though her footwork remained elegant. Moonlight fell on the flickering cold gleam, like spirits surrounding Anne, dancing with her in the beautiful and cold moonlit night.
The blade pierced through his shoulder. The assassin knelt on the ground, looking up at Anne in disbelief. "You... this sword clearly has no edge, how did you..."
Only then did Elisa step forward, coldly stomping the assassin down. "Really? Haven't you heard that the Virlet family has two blade masters?"
Elisa had grown up with Anne. She naturally knew about Anne and Skoda learning swordsmanship, and was well aware of just how excellent her young lady truly was.
But this news left the assassin dizzy and dazed.
Two blade masters in the Virlet family—he knew the rumors.
One was the deceased Duke Skoda, and the other had suddenly gone silent three years ago, with no news since.
Three years...
Three years!?
Before losing consciousness, he realized in panic—three years ago, the Virlet daughter had married into the Titan family.
Meanwhile, Trion sat in her room, her heart suddenly beating uneasily, as if something major was about to happen. She was about to ask her husband when she heard what sounded like metal clashing outside. Listening more carefully, it sounded more like sword blades colliding.
She had gone with her brothers to watch sword competitions a few times, so she wasn't unfamiliar with this sound. But at this late hour, why would people be fighting in the manor?
Trion was about to open the door to look when Mephist saw her movement and hurriedly grabbed his wife's waist, placing her on the bed.
Their room wasn't far from the corridor where the assassination was happening. If Trion went out and got caught up in it, or even got used by Anne as a human shield, that would be the end of everything!
But Trion had no idea what was happening outside. She pointed anxiously toward the door. "Darling, outside there's..."
Mephist didn't dare tell her. He could only lean down and kiss his wife's forehead. "Probably just a servant accidentally knocking into the decorative sword and shield, so it fell and made a loud noise. You always think the worst of things."
Trion blinked. She lay on her back on the bed, about to agree with her husband, when she heard an even more intense collision. "Listen!"
Mephist couldn't have missed such a piercing sound, and it didn't sound like something falling to the ground either!
But the usually timid Mephist was unusually firm. He pressed Trion directly onto the bed, his hand sliding along her skirt all the way to her thigh. "I don't want to hear those sounds right now, darling. I only want to hear your voice."
He thrust his hips against Trion, his meaning clear. Trion hesitated for a moment, but ultimately hooked her legs around Mephist's waist.
She couldn't refuse her husband. Mephist forced her mouth open, thrusting deeper. Her moans drowned out the noise outside as she clung to him, kissing his stubbled face. But her unease only grew, even as he brought her to climax. Afterward, trembling against him, she stared through the curtains at the cold moon outside.
Somehow, she suddenly thought of Anne. Then Trion found her own speculation laughable.
How could someone like Anne, a refined lady from a distinguished family, possibly know how to use a sword?