Draconic Codex: Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Yuto Kiba crouched in the rafters, as silent as a wraith. He had been shadowing the nun since the night she first slipped into the abandoned church on Kuoh’s outskirts. 

From there she’d traced one forgotten Fallen hideout after another with unerring accuracy, moving with quiet resolve. Kiba had followed every step, always above, always unseen.

He wasn't sure what she was after exactly, but her dogged determination and curious methods earnt his respect.

Said methods were rather fascinating. He’d watched her casually summon blood golems with ease, each one drawn from a cut of her palm, and each carrying with it scraps of DNA—skin, hair, whatever she could implausibly find—that somehow, without fail, led her straight to the next hideout. The precision was unsettling. The way she’d ferreted out said DNA, inexplicable and rather annoying, if he were being honest. 

His guess was she was benefitting from some kind of divine assistance, nothing else fit neatly. At her apparent level, Heaven’s forces didn’t typically have a direct line upstairs, but they did benefit from ‘feelings,’ or sparks of inspiration that generally led them in the right direction.

The harder they prayed, the more pronounced the effect.

This young nun…never stopped praying.

She was also resourceful, far more than the naïve exterior and mannerisms suggested.

And yet, she was always alone. That was the detail he couldn’t reconcile. He’d never seen those of the Heaven faction travelling alone—she hadn’t once hooked up with any priests or exorcists. He had heard no whispered orders into a phone, no quiet coded calls to superiors. Just silence. A bizarre, solitary march through dangerous enemy territory, her goals—other than searching— mysteriously unclear. 

If she was truly an asset of the Heaven faction, and all signs pointing to that being an almost certainty, she was an anomaly.

Kiba’s sharp eyes tracked the motion as she bared the hidden blade in her cross. She slit her palm with a practiced flick, and crimson welled into the air. Another golem—again, a dove—took wing, its feathers dissolving into the gloom. The wound closed instantly. Always instantly. No weakness, no pallor, no lingering trace of pain or signs of anemia. It was as if she'd never been cut at all… 

The sight stirred the same unease he’d once felt with Issei—an intuition that what he was watching couldn’t be explained away by the concrete rules he knew. Sacred Gear, perhaps. Or something outside even that. It wasn’t Divine or Holy miracles…he’d have a much stronger reaction to that.

The nun moved with purpose, ready to initiate the next step of her hunt, but her awareness was flawed. Which was why Kiba caught the flicker in the high window before she did—two figures slinking into the abandoned warehouse from the smashed windows above, clad in black leather, their wings retracted but their nature unmistakable. 

Fallen.

He shifted slightly, ready to strike, but then the blonde nun surprised them all. Before the Fallen could spring their ambush, her head snapped up and locked onto the figures hiding in shadow, her expression serene and unsurprised.

Kiba stilled. How had she spotted the Fallen instantly, yet missed him? Had she overlooked Kiba completely… or had she simply chosen not to acknowledge his presence? The uncertainty was unwelcome. He prepared regardless. Rias would want answers, if not the girl herself.

No harm would come to her.


Except the harm she does to herself, apparently…

The first Fallen stepped forward, voice sharp and cruel, his lips twisted in a wicked smile. If only he had a moustache to twirl, this clown could complete the image…

‘You were lucky to escape the cell in Italy. You should have kept running. Instead you’ve wandered back into our grasp. We’ll be taking you and that Sacred Gear of yours again.’

The nun did not cry out, she didn’t tremble or quail in fear at the seemingly unfavourable odds. She adjusted her stance, dagger extended, her voice even.

‘Is that what you think this is, Mister Assassin?’ Her coolness under pressure was commendable. ‘Do you think I’ve spent months hunting you because I was…running? I… I sinned when I selfishly left those other prisoners in your care when I escaped. I intend to atone.’ Her eyes flashed, the grip on the cross tightening, ‘by any means necessary.’

The second Fallen gave a low laugh as she moved to the side, splitting apart from her partner in an attempt to flank, now that their ambush had failed.

‘How cute, the little nun has a spine,’ she mocked with a cruel laugh. ‘And you think you can stop us? Alone? We read your file, Holy Maiden, your Sacred Gear won’t save you here…’’

Before the nun could respond, the speaking Fallen’s partner summoned a spear of light and hurled it across the warehouse. While not a kill shot, should it land, it would immediately end the fight. Of that Kiba was certain. Even with this Holy Maiden’s magical healing.

He cursed, but the Knight of Rias Gremory needn't have worried.

The spear of light never touched her, though it came close. He'd have said perilously so, but the nun didn't even look phased.

The girl slipped to the side before the menacing projectile even left the Fallen’s hand, graceful and certain, her cowl ruffling as the holy javelin skimmed it in passing. From above, Kiba’s frown deepened. 

Precognition? Divine favor? Is that why they call her Holy Maiden?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t ordinary.

In a flash, she cut her palm again, thrusting her bloodied hand to the floor. This wasn’t the same casual blood magic he’d tracked across Kuoh. This time the air itself prickled against his skin as Aether surged.

The wall exploded. A colossal fist of blood smashed through the concrete and swatted the attacking Fallen like a fly, hurling him across the warehouse and through the far wall in a crash of stone and steel.

Kiba didn’t hesitate. Neither did the second Fallen. Even as the girl reset her stance, the woman was already rearing back with her own spear.

He appeared between them in a blur, crouched low, hand at his hip. The blade of a katana shimmered into existence at his waist just as the spear launched.

His strike was too fast for either of them to follow. One clean motion—draw, cut, return. The light spear was struck, turned, and hurled back with twice the fury. The Fallen had no time to even widen her eyes before her body split apart in a blaze of her own power, the katana at his waist sheathed before the counter strike had even landed.

Kiba felt the shift before he saw it—the remaining Fallen, circling low to ambush from the broken wall at the girl’s back. His katana dissolved as he summoned another blade with his Sacred Gear, this time a jian, still sheathed.

The ambusher burst through with a light spear in hand, thrusting rapid jabs. Kiba intercepted each with the jian’s sheath, every block ringing like a struck bell, every deflection brightening the scabbard until it blazed with near-blinding holy light.

The Fallen cursed and tried to retreat, black, feathered wings snapping open as he launched himself into the rafters. 

Mistake. 

The beams and rafters crowded his opponent, it was too tight for clean movement or the aerial acrobatics required to dodge.

Kiba took advantage and unsheathed his conjured sword.

The jian’s blade flared a blinding white, and from its tip a lance of holy light screamed upward. It pierced the Fallen mid-flight, punching a hole through his chest the size of a watermelon. His eyes wide with disbelief, he shakily turned to regard his killer in shock before choking on his own blood and crumpling lifelessly to the concrete below.

The bright glow faded and the sword dissolved. Kiba turned, expression calm, voice flat.

‘How long have you known I was following you?’

The girl blinked at him, wide-eyed, still trembling. Not with fear—adrenaline, he guessed. She might have been able to handle both Fallen herself judging by the power of her first spell, but Kiba didn’t want to risk a promising source of information on a hunch. ‘I… I didn’t?’

Kiba’s frown deepened. ‘Then how did you spot the Fallen so quickly?’

Her gaze didn’t waver, answering with such innocent certainty that it made his teeth ache. ‘Because they meant me harm.’

She spoke the nonsensical words as if they explained everything. 

Maybe they did.

He weighed her words in silence before choosing blunt honesty. Her type always abhorred liars and silver-tongued swindlers. ‘Would you be opposed to meeting my King? If you are hunting the Fallen in Kuoh too, our goals may align.’

Her shock softened into a frown. Cute, almost—though Kiba made a point not to notice. ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Why are you after these Fallen? I won’t be part of senseless violence or Devil territory disputes.’

Kiba stared into her shockingly green eyes for several tense moments, weighing the benefits of saying more versus not. In the end, the earnestness and openness that reflected back at him in her gaze won out.

‘These Fallen killed my King’s human fiancé,’ Kiba said evenly, not seeing a need to elaborate further. ‘Her motives are predominantly revenge and making sure they’re ejected from these lands. Will that be a problem?’

Her eyes widened. Then she crossed herself and whispered a prayer. Kiba winced in pain but let her finish. It might have been a lot more uncomfortable were he a newly-born Devil, but Kiba had been a part of Rias’ peerage for well over a decade, his strength having grown by leaps and bounds in that time.

‘There’s no need for that. He was resurrected. But he won’t be safe until the Fallen are purged from her territory.’

Her gaze flicked to the two corpses on the floor. ‘And by purged, you mean…?’

He turned and followed her gaze, the two Fallen’s corpses still warm.

‘Yes.’

She swallowed hard, but nodded resolutely.

‘You have my word, as a Knight, that you’ll come to no harm,’ Kiba continued, putting a hand to his chest and giving her a half-bow. ‘You clearly have a history with these Fallen. We only need your knowledge—their motives, why they’re here, how they’re avoiding our tracking.’

Slowly, she bowed her head. ‘Then… I’ll be in your care.’

He studied her for a moment. ‘You don’t need to report to anyone? You’re not with the Church?’

Her smile was fragile, almost broken. ‘No,’ she answered without any guile or subterfuge. ‘I was exiled many years ago. I’m alone.’

And yet she still prays to Him? Foolish.

The words weighed heavy in the air, but Kiba only nodded, motioning toward the exit. ‘My motorbike is outside.’

They started toward it in silence before the girl slowed, glancing at him. ‘I… never asked your name.’

‘Kiba Yuuto,’ he replied simply. ‘Knight of Rias Gremory.’

She bowed faintly, the cross and its hidden dagger still clutched firmly in her hand. ‘Asia Argento. And… thank-you. For your help.’

Not that you needed it.

Kiba only nodded before adjusting his coat as he led the way out.

He never thought he’d miss hunting Demons, but he was very much ready for this Fallen nonsense to be over with. It had already taken up way more of his time than he’d intended, and he’d been lax with his cultivation to compensate.


Thankfully Koneko, when she wasn’t meditating in the forest, was handling any outbreaks of Demons he had missed with his duties.

He sighed as the motorbike’s engine roared to life and, as the nun snuggled in close behind him, he took very special care to not note how soft her small body felt against his.

He hated everyone affiliated with the Church.


…even the cute ones.

-

Sona Shitori adjusted her glasses, gaze fixed on the laptop perched at the center of her immaculate desk. Her office was all clean lines and muted tones—white walls, black glass shelving, the faint gleam of chrome trim. Minimalist, efficient, modern. A deliberate rejection of the gothic spires and dark ornamentation that defined Kuoh’s architecture—and Rias’ tastes.

That’s what I get for paying Rias to use a ritual to build me the University…

From her seat at the top of the cathedral tower, the campus spread out beneath her window. Evening had settled over the immaculate grounds, painting the stone in fading amber and shadow. Students moved at an easier rhythm now—pairs returning from the library, friends drifting toward dorms where laughter already stirred, others vanishing into town for dinners or drinks. A quiet pulse of life she watched with cool satisfaction. 

Kuoh University would be the premier education institution in all of the worlds one day, and it would all be hers. Just as she’d dreamed since she was a child.

But first, I need to take control of Kuoh itself…

On-screen, the faces of local council members and community leaders filled her call. A half-dozen older men and women, each speaking in careful tones, deferred unconsciously to the young woman in her early twenties at the head of the conference. They nodded when she set the pace, adjusted when she redirected conversation. None of them remarked on her age. 

None dared.

She wore her authority well—tailored blazer over a pale blouse, slim black leggings tucked into sharp heels. Her hair, cut in a precise asymmetric bob, framed her face in dark, straight lines that mirrored her deliberate aesthetic. Efficient, elegant, but still beautiful.

‘…so yes, Councilor, I believe redirecting that funding toward local infrastructure will serve Kuoh’s long-term interests best. The university will absorb the cost of the student housing renovations. Consider it a gesture of goodwill.’

Muted thanks followed, polite assent. She inclined her head once, acknowledging them without breaking her neutral mask. The path to control was not through raw power, not through battlefields and spellcraft—but through influence, connections, and, as much as she loathed it, bureaucracy. 

Piece by piece, she was building her victory.

Her steepled hands hid her smirk. She rather enjoyed this game she played with Rias. She was really quite good at it. Maybe after she won, she’d ask after the video game version she had apparently based the rules on.

It sounded right up her alley, as opposed to the silly one with the plumber jumping into pipes and atop mushrooms…

Her phone buzzed once against the desk. She frowned, glancing down at the screen.

Rias: Can I come in?

Sona blinked. Had there been a knock at the door that she’d missed? She must have been too focused on the call. 

Rias knew better than to intrude without warning.

She tapped out a quick affirmative, then the air in her office was torn apart.

Though the verbiage she’d used was violent, the process was anything but, despite its world-shattering implications…

She’d have reacted a lot more violently had her friend not warned her first with a text, and were she not feeling her familiar, unmistakable Aether.

A ragged rent tore itself open in the space between the entrance and her desk. Power spilled through it, the Aether prickling her sensitive skin, but there were no other disturbances at the seemingly impossible feat of magic. And from it—composed, unhurried, as if she were stepping through a doorway—walked Rias Gremory.

Sona’s chair skidded back as she shot to her feet. Her palms pressed into the desk, knuckles white as they pressed into the reinforced glass top. Her wards were intact. She had designed them herself—no teleportation, no portals, no magical entry at all without an anchor set up beforehand. Portals were structured, rigid things. They needed circles, contracts, something fixed to pull from, an anchor at either end. That was how Ajuka Beelzebub’s network had been built, why every devil alive piggybacked off it to this day.

But this—this was anchorless. At least from Sona’s end. Clean. Effortless. And the wards had done nothing to stop it.

How?!

It shouldn’t be possible. Not from anyone their age, certainly. Not from anyone below the very highest echelon of the Elite. The Satans, maybe, but Rias?!

On the call, one of the community leaders frowned. ‘Chairwoman Shitori? Is everything all right?’

Sona’s eyes stayed locked on Rias. After too long a pause she snapped the laptop shut with more force than necessary after a hurried, ‘We’ll resume later.’

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, but her voice, when it came, was low and sharp. ‘What was that?’

Rias tilted her head, crimson hair spilling like fire over her shoulder. She wore sleek leggings tucked into ankle boots and a fitted tweed jacket that hugged her curves, the picture of casual aristocracy. Even when she wasn’t trying, even when she wasn’t dressed to impress, Rias couldn’t help but do just that. Her expression serene, she answered Sona’s question simply with a tilt of the head and a confused, mocking murmur. ‘What?’

Sona twitched, fury and disbelief gnawing at her composure. How had she bypassed the wards? How had she even created the portal in the first place? She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t witnessed the feat with her own two eyes, yet here Rias stood. She wanted to demand answers—but she would not give her rival the satisfaction.

Rias, of course, knew her too well. Rather than press the advantage, she let the moment slide, her tone turning businesslike though her eyes still danced with mischief.

‘Any updates on the investigation? How the Fallen managed to breach us so thoroughly?’

Sona clenched her fists against the desk, forcing herself to calm down. Of course Rias would turn the board, leaving her questions unanswered, her curiosity unsated.

With the shift in topic, Sona forced herself to breathe, promising silently that she would not let Rias’ impossible entrance go unanswered forever. But when the question about the Fallen landed, she winced inwardly, knowing her friend wouldn’t be pleased with what she had to say.

‘I’ve checked, and rechecked the wards,’ she admitted, guilt pressing on her words. ‘Countless times. I don’t understand how they slipped through without us noticing.’

Rias’ frown deepened, sharp enough to make Sona’s chest tighten. She winced again and added, reluctantly, ‘I even… asked my sister.’ The words tasted bitter on her tongue, and they stung her pride, her sense of independence. ‘She was no help either.’

That wasn’t strictly true, but she was so helpful that her help was meaningless, listing off dozens of ways she could have achieved the same feat.

The problem was, if their enemies were capable of even a fraction of the methods her older sister, one of the four Great Satans, had proffered, they were in a lot of trouble.

Thankfully, Sona had only put the question to her as a hypothetical. Had she not, she’d have had to deal with an over-protective Super Devil bunking with her for the foreseeable future, her obligations be damned.

Admitting her failure stung. The wards weren’t fortress-style, they were never meant to keep undesirables out, only alert Sona when they passed through. The fact that they had failed at even that had her considering tearing them all down and purchasing newer, more elaborate wards.

A horrifically expensive endeavor.

Rias clicked her tongue, annoyance sparking, though some of the edge dulled at the mention of Serafall. ‘If that’s the case, someone very powerful must be aiding them. Likely a magician. It would take absurd skill to circumvent something that complex. Those wards weren’t cheap…’

Silence stretched. Then Sona said, carefully, ‘Perhaps it’s time you contacted your brother.’

The glare she received could have cut glass.

Sona straightened her back, unflinching. ‘If I can swallow my pride to reach out to my sister, you can do the same with your brother. You know it’s sensible.’

‘It’s different,’ Rias snapped, irritation flashing in her eyes. ‘You know it is.’

Sona sighed, tired of pushing against the same wall. ‘Fine. There are other avenues. The local yokai are masters of illusory and detection wards. I could call in a favour.’

Rias only hummed noncommittally. The sound made irritation flare sharp in Sona’s chest. Her own update might have been less than ideal, but at least she was offering something.

No, she realised, her irritation wasn’t just directed at the illusive Fallen, or Rias’ aloofness. It was that entrance. That impossible portal. The way Rias had so casually managed the seemingly impossible. Sona was still desperate to know how, but pride kept her from asking again and seeming desperate.

Apparently when it came to matters of self-destructive pride, she was in good company…

So she changed tack. ‘How is your… fiancé coping?’

Rias’ entire expression transformed, a beam of happiness breaking across her face. The sight sent an unexpected pang through Sona’s chest—a quiet yearning for someone who might one day make her smile like that.

‘Surprisingly well, all things considered. He’s growing quickly. He’s focusing on his magic, and he’s doing amazingly to overcome his limitations. He’s no Tsubaki, but what he lacks in raw talent he makes up for in sheer determination.’

Sona narrowed her eyes and pinched her chin thoughtfully. ‘Overcoming his limitations? With your help?’

Rias’ smile turned mysterious. ‘Not in the way you’re thinking…’

Sona sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, irritation prickling. She hated when Rias dangled knowledge just out of reach. She could be so immature about such things.

Rias rolled her eyes at the look. ‘Oh, fine. It’s not like it’ll stay quiet for long anyway. Issei’s focusing on Cosmomancy.’

Sona’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That’s… unexpected.’

Cosmic Essence manipulation. One of the most esoteric, difficult schools of magic in existence. Its concepts were infamous for being near-impossible to grasp for novices.

Rias beamed with pride. ‘He’s already showing a lot of promise!’

Sona’s brows climbed higher. ‘He’s already managed basic manipulation? And you imply he doesn’t have my Queen’s raw talent?’

Rias flushed, caught off guard by her own loose tongue. Sona folded her hand over her mouth to hide a grin. For all her secrecy, Rias could be surprisingly careless when giddy about her other half.

‘Come now,’ Sona teased, voice smooth, ‘don’t be coy. You were just lauding your fiancé’s achievements…’

Rias pinched the bridge of her nose this time, cheeks colouring. She muttered without looking up.

‘He… managed to turn my breasts weightless.’

Silence descended. Sona’s years of iron discipline kept her face neutral, though she felt her composure strain.

‘Truly,’ she said, voice calm as a still pond, ‘a special talent.’

Rias lifted her nose in the air like the pompous princess she pretended not to be. ‘Jealousy doesn’t suit you.’

Sona snorted but offered no further comment.

Calming, Rias rubbed at her temples. ‘So… what are we going to do about the Fallen then?’

Sona let a sliver of her irritation colour her tone. ‘I’ve told you what I’m doing. What are you doing?’

The cheer drained from Rias’ expression. Her eyes sharpened, dangerous, and for a moment Sona was reminded how terrifying her friend could be when pushed.

‘Don’t take that tone with me. Your so-called infallible wards were breached by a Fallen foot soldier and almost got the man I love killed. This wasn’t how I wanted to bring him into the fold—just be thankful it worked out in the end…’

The menace in her words stung far more than Sona expected. They had been friends since childhood, their rivalry always playful, always tempered by affection. The subtle threat in Rias’ voice felt alien. Wrong.

‘If you must know, Issei found a lead and I had Gasper follow up on it.’

Sona bit her tongue. She didn’t want to goad Rias further by questioning Issei’s resourcefulness again. She’d looked into him, of course. A good enough student and an excellent sous chef, by all accounts—even if Rias had had her cover for his absences from work as of late. There was nothing in his file that suggested he’d be able to help in a supernatural investigation though…

‘We tracked the Fallen through a mundane company they use to cover their tracks based in Italy—through it, we’ve found possible sites where they are operated all over the world, but none of it was immediately useful to us. So I didn’t mention it.’

Sona frowned. While not useful to them, that information would be useful to her brother and Sona’s sister…

Before the tension could spiral, Rias sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Whatever. If you want something done, do it yourself.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

When Rias’ hand dropped, the anger was gone. In its place was smug superiority, an expression Sona knew far too well.

It never meant good things for her.

‘I’ve done it.’

‘Done… what?’

Rias’ smile grew. ‘I’ve created a Grand Ritual that will let me awaken Kuoh and bond with its Genius Loci. Let’s see the Fallen try and hide from me then.’

Sona felt as if a leaf could have blown her over.

The portal itself had been shocking, but this… this was something else. Bonding with a Genius Loci was a feat only the most powerful devil magi of the underworld had ever achieved. And never here, in the human world. The leylines were weaker, the land younger and lacking a history or awareness. The Church’s influence and interference made such things generally impossible too. 

Or so she thought.

‘You must be joking. This isn’t funny.’

Rias shook her head, smirking. ‘As much as I’d have loved to keep this a surprise, I’m not that immature. I couldn’t have you panicking and causing a scene when your incredibly useful wards start failing the moment I take control of the land.’

She tapped her chin as if remembering something important. ‘Oh, when are the mayoral elections again? End of the year? That’s a shame. My ritual will be ready within the week. I suppose that means I win our little contest, yes?’

Sona’s eyes narrowed into slits. Rias’ smile only widened.

‘Don’t worry, you’re a dear friend. I’ll let you stay in my territory once I’ve claimed it. I won’t even demand tribute. Maybe.’

Rias was clearly enjoying herself.

‘A bit early to be on your victory lap, isn’t it? Maybe complete this impossible feat of yours before you gloat.’

‘You mean my second “impossible feat,” yes?’

Sona grit her teeth in annoyance, her jaw aching from the pressure.

Rias’ laughter was light, almost giddy. A wild shift from the earlier tension. That was what troubled Sona most. Her rival truly didn’t believe there was any doubt.

The sheer power required was… astronomical. Sona had seen the heart of Rias’ manor, the pulsing crystal above the portal room. Even that reservoir, one she’d been cultivating for years, wouldn’t be enough. Unless… had she reached out to her brother for assistance? Her sister-in-law? 

Would she really swallow her pride for this?

She somehow doubted it…

Rias was glowing with pride now, her laughter still bubbling. ‘Oh, I love that look on your face. It’s so adorable. I can’t wait to see it when I finally win. This is checkmate, Sona.’

Before Sona could respond, Rias tore open another hole in reality, casually, as if she were opening a door. This time the portal opened face-on, giving Sona a direct view. Her breath caught as she saw beyond it—not the portal chamber, not a prepared anchor—but Rias’ own bedroom.

She’s showing off…

Before she could step through, Rias’ phone buzzed. She glanced at it, eyebrows shooting up at what she read.

‘Looks like we’ve had a breakthrough on tracking the Fallen,’ she informed, after quickly tapping out a reply. Looking up, she winked a beautiful blue-green eye and grinned. ‘Don’t worry Sona, I’ll keep you posted.’

And with that she stepped through, the portal sealing behind her. The wards, though so easily sliced through, were still perfectly intact. She could feel them, completely ineffective against whatever the Hells Rias had done…

Silence. Then Sona surged to her feet and slammed her fist into the desk, shattering it in an explosion impotent fury. Glass and steel scattered across the office, making a total mess.

Breathing hard, she straightened, brushing shards from her blazer. As far as she knew, only Ajuka Beelzebub and Mephisto Pheles could create portals freely, without anchors. How had Rias, a young high-class devil, managed such a feat?

She wanted to dismiss the Genius Loci claim as bluster. But her mind kept returning to the supposedly impossible portals. 

Impossible, utterly impossible!

She exhaled, smoothing her jacket. All was not lost. Rias had to complete these miraculous feats first.

‘Tsubaki.’

The door opened at once. Her Queen stood waiting—tall, poised, a long mane of dark hair spilling over her shoulders. She dressed much like Sona herself—elegant blazer, fitted blouse, tight trousers, stiletto heels. Her voluptuous figure only made the sharp lines more striking.

‘You were listening, then?’

Tsubaki flushed faintly. ‘I’m sorry, I—’

‘It’s fine. I don’t care.’ Sona waved her off. Tsubaki always monitored and snooped on her meetings through the intercom. Sona preferred it—it made her a sharper Queen, and an even better assistant. ‘Have someone clean this up.’

Tsubaki hesitated. ‘Should I call Saji?’

Sona’s lips twitched. She pictured her Pawn—devoted, fiery, eager to please. ‘Yes. And tell him to see me after. I’ll need to punish him for his poor performance.’

The wording left no doubt. No matter how well Saji did, he would suffer her discipline regardless. Sona needed an outlet for her temper.

And Saji was an ever receptive target.

Tsubaki flushed but bowed her head and said nothing else.

Sona swept past her into the cathedral’s shadowed hall, her heels striking hard against the stone. She carried herself with elegance, but her eyes were like twin chips of ice, her mood dark and brooding.