Chapter 15: The sparrows
The stale scent of candle smoke and dust tickled Orchid’s throat as she descended the narrow, spiraling stone steps. The muffled chaos of the throne room above faded, replaced by the deeper quiet of the palace’s buried veins. Behind her, the soft scuff of boots and rustle of silk marked her Sparrows – Mint muttering about uneven step heights, Basil a silent specter, Thyme humming tunelessly, Rosemary poking Thyme to shush. Sekiro’s warmth was a phantom absence at her side; he’d been pulled away moments after leaving the throne room by a harried-looking steward, a flicker of familiar duty in his diamond-spark eyes before he vanished down another corridor.
The war room door was unassuming oak, banded with iron, guarded by two impassive figures in the Shadow’s signature obsidian grey. They snapped to attention, eyes forward, as Lorenzo’s voice, low and precise, filtered through the thick wood even before Orchid pushed it open.
"…penetration is unacceptable. Every access point, every servant, every minor functionary." Lorenzo stood before an enormous, scarred table dominating the windowless chamber. A sprawling map of the Keytan Empire was pinned there, dotted with markers and scored with fine ink lines. Candlelight glinted off his blush-pink hair, pulled tight, and the icy planes of his face. His grey eyes swept over the assembled figures – a mix of Shadow operatives in grey and a few high-ranking military officers in formal blues. "Standard protocols are insufficient. We operate now under heightened parameters."
He didn’t turn as Orchid and her Sparrows entered, though the Shadow operatives subtly shifted, creating space. Mint immediately began assessing sightlines to the doors and the map table. Basil drifted towards the deepest shadows near a rack of scrolls, her amber eyes already cataloging exits and potential threats within the room itself. Thyme leaned against a stone pillar, pulling out her flask with a sigh. Rosemary flashed a bright, curious smile at a stern-looking captain who quickly looked away, flustered.
Lorenzo continued, his voice dropping a fraction, the temperature in the room seeming to plummet with it. "Primary safeguard: Crown Princess Orchid Light." His gaze finally flicked to her, a swift, assessing glance that held no particular warmth, only intense scrutiny. "Her security detail is hereby restructured and expanded. The Sparrows retain operational command under her direct authority, integrated fully with Shadow resources." He nodded minutely towards Mint, who straightened, pulling a small, leather-bound notebook and a charcoal pencil from somewhere inside her immaculate midnight blue jacket. She began scribbling instantly, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Protocol Gamma-Seven is now in effect," Lorenzo stated, his eyes sweeping the room, lingering briefly on Thyme’s flask before moving on. Thyme hastily tucked it away. "This entails constant proximity detail. Minimum two operatives within visual range at all times, excluding…" He paused, the air thickening. His gaze landed squarely on Orchid, then swept the Sparrows. "...private chambers."
Orchid felt a flush creep up her neck, remembering the linen closet, Sekiro’s possessive heat. Mint’s pencil paused for a fraction of a second, her lips tightening almost imperceptibly. Thyme choked back a snort, poorly disguised as a cough. Rosemary’s eyes widened slightly. Basil remained utterly still in the shadows.
Lorenzo’s voice hardened, becoming flint scraping stone. "The intimacy clause. Approved personnel for close proximity within the royal apartments are restricted solely to Prince Sekiro and her designated Sparrow unit." His glacial stare pinned each of them in turn – Mint, Basil, Rosemary, Thyme. "No exceptions. No substitutions. Not for maids, not for physicians, not for the Emperor himself without prior, direct authorization from myself or the Crown Princess." He let the weight of that settle. "Violation of this protocol by any individual, regardless of rank, will be treated as a direct assassination attempt. Understood?"
The silence was absolute, broken only by the sputter of a candle. Mint gave a sharp, precise nod. "Understood, Marquis." Her pencil resumed its furious scratching. Basil inclined her head a fraction from the shadows. Rosemary swallowed, nodding vigorously. "Crystal clear, sir!"
Thyme pushed off the pillar, her green eyes meeting Lorenzo’s with surprising steadiness. "So, just to be absolutely certain," she drawled, a hint of her usual defiance creeping in. "If some fancy-pants Duchess tries to 'accidentally' bump into the Commander in the powder room...?"
Lorenzo didn't blink. "Detain her. Question her. Report the incident directly to me." His hand, resting on the pommel of his sword, tightened slightly. "Discretion is optional if the threat is immediate. Understood, Thyme?"
Thyme’s smirk vanished. She dipped her chin. "Understood, sir."
"Good." Lorenzo turned back to the map, pointing to a sector near the northern border. "Secondary safeguards involve perimeter sweeps, rotated daily. Basil, coordinate with Captain Varek on silent surveillance patterns for the inner courtyards. I want eyes where palace guards cannot be."
Basil detached herself from the shadows, moving to the map with silent grace. She didn’t speak, merely tracing a route on the parchment with a slender finger, her amber eyes flicking to the gruff Captain Varek. He grunted, studying her proposed path, then nodded curtly.
A soft knock echoed at the heavy door. One of the Shadow guards outside leaned in. "Marquis, the herbalist from the Eastern District is here. Hana. She insists it’s urgent regarding the Princess’s tonic."
Lorenzo’s expression didn’t change. "Admit her."
The door opened wider, and Hana slipped in. She looked out of place amidst the martial severity. Early thirties, dressed in simple, sturdy linen dyed faded greens and browns, her dark hair pulled back in a practical braid. Her face was kind, strong-boned, with intelligent eyes that missed little. She carried a woven basket smelling sharply of earth and herbs. Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the map, the assembled Shadows, the Sparrows, lingering briefly on Lorenzo’s imposing figure with a respectful dip of her head, before settling on Orchid. Relief washed over her features.
"Orchid! Thank the stars," Hana breathed, her voice warm with genuine concern, cutting through the war room’s tension. She bustled forward, ignoring protocol, her focus entirely on Orchid. "I heard the commotion… well, everyone’s heard by now! The things they’re saying upstairs…" She shook her head, her expression shifting to fierce protectiveness. "Are you alright? The shock, the stress… it can’t be good for the babe. Or you." She patted her basket. "I mixed a fresh batch of that calming paste you like, the one with lavender and moonpetal. Stronger dose. And I brought willow bark tea for the headache I know you must have brewing."
Orchid felt some of the coiled tightness in her shoulders ease. Hana was a grounding force, a reminder of the straightforward loyalty she’d found teaching village children basic self-defense outside the garrison walls. Orchid had intervened when a vindictive local lord tried to seize Hana’s herb garden for a debt her dead husband never owed. The gratitude had been instant, the friendship deep. "Hana, you didn’t need to rush down here."
"Nonsense," Hana scoffed, already setting her basket on a clear corner of the map table, making Mint twitch at the proximity to pins and ink. "After what you did for me? Least I can do is keep you and that little heir from frazzling away." She pulled out a small stone jar, unscrewing the lid to release a wave of soothing herbal scent. "Now, let me see your temples. You look peaky."
As Hana dabbed the cool, pungent paste onto Orchid’s temples with gentle, practiced fingers, her voice dropped to a murmur meant only for Orchid, though Lorenzo’s sharp gaze noted the shift. "Also," Hana whispered, her eyes flicking briefly towards the Marquis, then back to Orchid, "I had a… customer this morning. Traveled far. From the Silverbark foothills, near where you were asking about." Her fingers paused. "He traded rare nightshade berries. Very specific request. Paid in imperial sovereigns, freshly minted. Didn’t strike me as a forager."
Orchid’s breath hitched. Silverbark. Where Sekiro had last been reported before going silent. Her eyes met Hana’s. The herbalist gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, her expression grave. The comforting touch continued, but the message was clear: a poison maker’s ingredients, paid for with imperial coin, sourced near Sekiro’s last known location.
Lorenzo’s voice cut through the moment, cold and final. "Hana." He hadn’t moved, but his attention was a physical weight. "Report. Fully."
Hana straightened, wiping her fingers on a cloth. Her kind demeanor shifted subtly, her spine straightening, her gaze meeting the Marquis’s with an unexpected steadiness that held no trace of her village persona. "Marquis. The individual matched a low-priority watch descriptor associated with minor smuggling in the western province. His interest in concentrated nightshade alkaloid, coupled with the fresh sovereigns, triggered my protocol. I’ve relayed his description and the transaction specifics to Operative Finch at the East Gate apothecary drop. Trackers are likely already deployed."
Mint’s pencil had stopped. Thyme’s flask was forgotten. Rosemary stared, her mouth slightly open. Basil’s head tilted, her amber eyes fixed on Hana with new, intense appraisal. The Shadow operatives exchanged brief, knowing glances. Orchid simply looked at the woman who’d brought her willow bark tea and calming paste, who’d defended her herb garden with a hoe, and who now stood reporting intelligence with the calm precision of a seasoned agent.
Lorenzo gave a single, curt nod. "Adequate." His gaze swept back to Orchid. "The poison maker’s request aligns with intercepted chatter regarding a specific, hard-to-trace incapacitant favored by certain… disgruntled factions. Your husband’s trail grows colder, Princess, but the nature of the threat grows clearer." He tapped the map, his finger landing hard on the Silverbark region. "We shift focus. Mint, cross-reference known sympathizers in that sector with apothecary purchase records. Prioritize recent, unusual acquisitions. Thyme, circulate through the lower city taverns near the docks. Find the ship that brought that merchant. Rosemary, leverage your… charms. The merchant guild treasurer has a weakness for pretty faces and gossip. Extract names of recent large-scale sovereign transactions. Basil." He looked towards the shadows where she’d returned. "You know what to do."
Basil didn't nod. She just… wasn’t there anymore. A faint stir of air near the door was the only sign she’d moved.
Hana picked up her basket, her expression softening again as she looked at Orchid. "I’ll leave the paste and tea with your maid, Orchid. Use it. Rest if you can." She offered a small, reassuring smile that held layers Orchid was only beginning to comprehend. "We’ll find him." The 'we' encompassed more than the village now. Much more.
Lorenzo dismissed the other operatives with a sharp gesture. As the room began to clear, Mint already muttering about procurement logs, Thyme cracking her knuckles, Rosemary smoothing her skirts with determination, Lorenzo fixed Orchid with his unblinking grey stare. The candlelight cast deep hollows under his cheekbones.
"The game advances, daughter," he stated, his voice low and devoid of inflection. "They use poison now. Subtle blades for subtle threats. Remember that." His gaze flickered over her, taking in the herbal paste on her temples, the tension still visible beneath her regal bearing. "Rest. Command. But never forget the shadows they cast." He turned back to the map, a forbidding silhouette against the parchment empire. "Your wolves have their scent. Let them run." The silence that followed was heavy, not with fear, but with the grim hum of the hunt beginning in earnest.
The grim hum of the hunt Lorenzo invoked seemed to vibrate in Orchid’s bones long after the war room emptied. The calming paste Hana had applied felt like a lie against her temples. Poison. Disgruntled factions. Silverbark. The words circled like vultures. Sekiro’s absence felt like a physical wound reopening, raw and cold.
She walked through the palace’s quieter upper corridors, the Sparrows a silent, shifting perimeter around her. Mint muttered about patrol rotations under her breath, her blonde brow furrowed. Basil was a ghost flitting ahead and behind, checking alcoves. Thyme cracked her knuckles, the sound sharp in the hush. Rosemary hummed a tense little tune, her blue eyes scanning every tapestry.
Hana walked beside Orchid, her herb basket hooked over her arm, her expression thoughtful. The revelation of her double life hung unspoken but thick between them. The sturdy village herbalist was also a sharp-eyed imperial operative, reporting directly to the Emperor’s Shadow. Orchid replayed Hana’s calm report about the poison merchant, the shift in her bearing under Lorenzo’s gaze.
They reached the sanctuary of Orchid’s private apartments – spacious rooms bathed in late afternoon light, filled with plush rugs and the scent of beeswax polish. Orchid sank onto a deep blue velvet settee with a sigh, the weight of the crown princess title feeling like lead. Mint immediately began adjusting the position of a vase on a side table. Basil melted into the corner near the balcony, her amber eyes watchful. Thyme sprawled in an armchair, pulling out her flask. Rosemary perched elegantly on a chaise, examining her nails.
Hana placed her basket gently on a low table. "I'll brew that willow bark tea," she offered, her voice warm again, the operative momentarily receding.
Before Orchid could reply, Thyme pointed the flask at Hana. "Hold up, Herb Lady." She took a swig, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You. Spy. Explain."
Rosemary leaned forward, her expression suddenly sharp despite the bright smile. "Oh, don't be crude, Thyme. Hana, darling, you must understand. We're simply dying to know." She fluttered her lashes. "How long? Infiltrating our dear Orchid's little village? Reporting back to scary-pants Lorenzo? Very clandestine. I'm impressed, honestly."
Mint stopped adjusting the vase and turned, her brown eyes fixed on Hana with unnerving focus. "Operative designation? Clearance level? Primary handler prior to direct Shadow liaison? Duration of deep cover assignment in the Eastern District? Frequency and method of encrypted report transmission?" Her voice was crisp, demanding.
Even Basil, from her shadowed corner, seemed to lean infinitesimally closer, her stillness radiating intense curiosity.
Orchid winced, rubbing her temples. "Hana, I am so sorry." She shot a look at her Sparrows. "They're... protective. Overprotective. Like a pack of territorial lynxes with organizational skills and hidden blades." She gestured helplessly around the luxurious room that felt suddenly too small. "This space, this team... it's always been tight-knit. Bringing someone new into the fold, even someone as obviously capable as you... it's not easy. It's a whole production."
Hana didn't look offended. A slow smile spread across her face, genuine and bright, transforming her strong features. She actually laughed, a warm, rich sound. "Production? This feels more like an initiation!" She put her hands on her hips, amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Don't apologize, Orchid. After that little reveal downstairs? I'd be disappointed if they weren't ready to dissect me."
Thyme lowered her flask, a genuine grin replacing her suspicion. "Ha! I like her. Got spine."
"Indeed," Rosemary purred, looking intrigued. "So, you're not running for the hills?"
"Running?" Hana shook her head, her braid swinging. "I've spent years digging roots that fight back and dealing with merchants trying to cheat me. A little friendly interrogation?" She met Mint's analytical stare, Rosemary's playful challenge, Thyme's assessing gaze, and even acknowledged Basil's silent presence. "Consider me excited. What've you got?"
Mint stepped forward, notebook already out. "Assessment is required. Standard procedure for adjunct personnel accessing the Commander's inner circle. Multiple vectors." She tapped her pencil. "You will be tested. By each of us. We need to understand your capabilities, your instincts... your fit."
"Tested?" Hana's smile widened, showing white teeth. "Bring it on. What's first? Herb identification? Poison brewing under pressure? Interrogation resistance? I’ve prepped for tougher."
Orchid sighed, long and deep, pushing herself up from the settee. "I tried to warn you, Hana." She crossed the sun-dappled room towards a sideboard laden with fruit and pastries, her amethyst silk whispering against the rug. "Told you they were territorial lynxes." She plucked a ripe apricot, biting into it with deliberate nonchalance, the sweet juice a stark contrast to the tension thickening the air. "Enjoy the... enthusiasm."
The Sparrows all looked at each other. A silent communication passed between them – Mint’s sharp nod, Rosemary’s predatory smile, Thyme’s wide, challenging grin. Their focus snapped back to Hana, unified and intense.
"Friendly interrogation?" Rosemary laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that held no warmth. She stood, smoothing her midnight blue jacket. "Oh, sweet Hana. Darling. No."
Thyme capped her flask with a decisive click. "Not even close." She pushed out of the armchair, stretching lazily, but her green eyes were narrowed, assessing Hana like a puzzle box primed to spring. "This ain't tea and sympathy."
Mint stepped forward, her notebook held tight, knuckles white. "These won't be little friendly interrogations," she stated, her voice precise, clipped. "They will be comprehensive evaluations. Multi-phase. Designed to simulate maximum operational stress." She tapped the notebook. "Combat readiness. Infiltration capability. Threat assessment under duress. Information extraction and resistance. Resource improvisation. Psychological resilience thresholds."
Hana’s confident smile faltered slightly. She shifted her weight, the woven basket suddenly feeling heavier in her grip. "Alright. Comprehensive. Understood. Standard Shadow protocols, I assume? I've run drills—"
"Shadow protocols are baseline," Mint cut in, her gaze unblinking. "We are the Sparrows. We operate beyond baseline. Our margins for error are zero. Our Commander’s safety, and by extension the heir’s, is paramount." She took another step closer. "The tests won't be easy, Hana. They will be brutal. They will be deceptive. They will exploit every perceived weakness."
Rosemary glided closer, her perfume – expensive jasmine – momentarily overpowering the lingering scent of Hana’s herbs. She tilted her head, blue eyes wide with faux innocence. "You’re requesting to join the most elusive, highly trained team in the Empire, darling. Not the gardening club."
Thyme snorted. "Yeah. We don’t just take anyone who can tell nightshade from nettles. We need to know if you crack when it gets real. If you freeze when the knives come out. If you can keep your mouth shut when someone’s peeling your fingernails back." She cracked her knuckles again, the sound like dry twigs snapping. "Physically and mentally."
Basil hadn’t moved from the shadowed corner. But her stillness now felt different. Predatory. Her large amber eyes, fixed on Hana, seemed to glow faintly in the dimness near the balcony.
Mint’s voice dropped, devoid of inflection. "You need to prepare yourself, Hana. Prepare to question every life choice that led you to volunteer for this." She glanced meaningfully towards Basil. "Starting now."
Hana swallowed, her earlier bravado evaporating like mist. The comfortable warmth of the apartments vanished, replaced by a sudden, icy prickle across her skin. This wasn't posturing. The casual lethality radiating from the four women surrounding her was absolute. "Starting... now?" she echoed, her voice tighter than before. She instinctively adjusted her grip on the basket handle, knuckles whitening.
Basil moved.
Not with a rush, but with impossible silence, a shadow detaching itself from the wall. She flowed across the luxurious rug, stopping an arm's length from Hana. Her short black hair framed a face that was still youthful, still unnervingly calm. But her eyes held the flat, assessing gaze of an apex predator.
"First test," Basil murmured, her voice soft as dust settling on a grave. She didn't gesture, didn't posture. She simply stood there, a small, silent storm in human form. "Surprise scenario. You have three seconds." Her head tilted, just a fraction. "Defend the Commander."
Hana’s breath hitched. Defend Orchid? From what? Orchid was casually eating an apricot by the window, bathed in sunlight. The room seemed empty of threat. But Basil’s stillness screamed danger. Hana’s mind raced – poison? Hidden assailant? Something in the basket? Her hand flew towards a hidden pocket sewn into her simple tunic, fingers closing around the cool handle of a thin, razor-sharp herb knife she always carried.
The air in Orchid’s sunlit chamber crackled, thick with the scent of apricots and rising panic. Hana’s knuckles were bone-white on her little knife’s handle, her gaze darting frantically between Basil’s unnerving stillness and Orchid’s oblivious back near the window. Defend the Commander. From what? The basket? The air itself? Sweat pricked Hana’s hairline.
Three seconds vanished like smoke.
Basil didn’t lunge. She flowed. One moment she was an arm’s length away, the next she was a blur of midnight blue streaking soundlessly past Hana’s left shoulder. Not towards Orchid. Towards the heavy damask curtains beside the balcony. Hana spun, knife raised, instinct screaming wrong direction! She saw it then – a flicker of movement behind the curtain, near the floor. Not human. Smaller. Faster.
A sleek, dark shape, low to the ground, darted from beneath the curtain’s edge – a shadow viper, its scales iridescent black, fangs like shards of obsidian glistening. It moved with terrifying speed, a silent arrow aimed directly at Orchid’s ankle. Basil’s boot came down like a hammer, pinning the serpent’s head to the polished wood floor a handspan from its target. There was a sickeningly soft crunch. The viper’s body lashed once, then went limp.
Orchid turned, unsurprised and too another bite of her apricot. Basil simply lifted her boot, nudging the carcass aside with detached efficiency.
"Point of origin?" Mint’s voice cut through the shock, clinical. She was already scanning the curtain, the balcony door frame.
"Gap in the lower lattice. Improbable entry vector." Basil’s voice was still that soft monotone. She looked at Hana, those amber eyes unreadable. "Reaction time: delayed. Threat assessment: inaccurate. Primary focus: incorrect vector." She paused. "You defended the basket."
Hana’s face burned. She’d looked for a human threat, a poisoned dart, something obvious. Not this. Never this. Basil had seen the flicker under the curtain she’d missed entirely. She’d been ready to fight Basil, not the real danger. Her knife felt absurdly small, foolish. She slowly lowered her arm, the blade trembling slightly.
"First test failed." Basil said then returned to her corner.