Chapter 233: A Promise

Author’s note: Hi guys.

Okay, guys, here it is, the last chapter of the prologue. But I dare say not the last chapter of Lament of the Lost.

Although the format in which the rest will be released will be completely different. What the last few weeks have shown me is that if you don't fully have your head in the writing, if it's forced, the story suffers. I learned this before, but now it's blatantly obvious. The prologue, while not entirely bad, doesn't hit as much as I imagined.

I'm not going to rewrite it - I don't have time for that. :(

What I'm going to do is take a lesson from this. And I'm also going to take the advice and words of many of you. I'll try to write Lament of the Lost when I feel like it - when the muse gives me a kiss - and not on a fixed schedule. My vision is to release a larger portion of the story, I can't say how big (several chapters long) at a time. But whether it will be once a month, two months or six months, we'll see.

In the meantime, I'll leave Patreon running as it is with billing suspended. Probably until the Royal Road chapters catch up with the current ones. Then I'll cancel paid Tiers altogether and I will continue to publish Lament of the Lost without paywalls just for the love of writing. (Although I still have to think this part through fully)

I can't tell you how grateful I am for your support throughout this time - I'll try though in a post at the end of the month (Sunday or Monday). I'd like to write a little farewell. Though as I wrote above, I'm not dropping Lament of the Slave completely, not yet :)

For now, though, this is all from me. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 233: A Promise - link: https://www.patreon.com/posts/125361066

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Chapter 233: A Promise

Ashe figured no one Birhane introduced could truly surprise her. That confidence didn’t last.

The meeting took place in one of the city's many back alleys - a usual, almost expected spot for dealings like this. Yet the figure waiting in the half-light didn’t fit. The kind of presence that demanded silk-lined halls, not the grime of the city’s veins.

"You've taken your time." Sweet as honey, yet thick with disdain, the voice left no doubt - this was a woman who expected the world to wait for her. Barely past twenty by appearances, but sigils told their own stories. With that many, she might have walked these streets for decades longer than she seemed.

[Attendant: 174 sigils]

Types like that never hesitated to waste a weave or two for a youthful glow. Yet despite the posture and air of one, that array certainly didn’t belong to a noble lady.

"Anyway, greetings, Miss Akene," the attendant said, hands clasped beneath her breasts. "A pleasure to meet you."

"You serious, Birhane?" Ashe sputtered, every muscle itching to drive a dagger into his ribs right then and there.

"Hey, hold your tits, all right? I didn't tell her shit."

"Mr. Birhane Robel speaks the truth, Miss Ashe Akene," the attendant said, smiling - a look that sent a shiver down her spine. The kind of smile all bastards and bitches wore when they thought they had her cornered. They never did. "I wouldn't approach you without knowing..."

"I don't give a shit!" A complete lie. The woman gave her the vibes of someone who knew who Ashe Akene really was - past the seeker from Hero's Sorrow, trying her luck in another labyrinth.

'How? How does she know? I could kill her. But then what?'

If there were no one behind her, a single strike would settle things. One clean swing, one less problem. But this woman wasn’t acting alone. Someone had sent her, and whoever it was could make staying in the city far more complicated. Refusing might be just as dangerous. That sort never handled rejection well.

'Fuck my arse! And fuck you, Birhane! This is the worst.'

"I understand your distrust, but such language is unnecessary and unfit for any woman," the attendant said, crisp and cutting.

"Bet you'd speak differently if you grew up in gutters."

'This is a waste of breath—just a pissing contest.'

"I can neither refute nor confirm such a claim, but..."

"What do you want?"

That snobbish, venomous smile flickered across the attendant’s face. "First of all, for you to stop interrupting me. It's very annoying."

"Not making any promises."

"Then I suppose you don’t care about getting your friend out of jail. What was his name again? Ah, Mr. Zander Denholm, wasn’t it?"

Keeping her face blank took every ounce of will. No tells, no satisfaction - not for this one. But the name hit like a gut punch, dread coiling tight in her chest.

"I'm listening."

"Finally," the attendant purred. "So, I come to you with an offer. In exchange for your friend’s freedom, you do some work for us."

'Of course.' Nothing came free, and the bitch knew damn well she had them by the balls. Didn’t mean there weren’t ways to shift the odds. "Us?"

"You will meet my lord if you agree."

'So, it was a lord.' No surprise.

"To do some work for... him. What kind?"

"Have I approached a seamstress?"

'Smartass, eh? Too much faith in the one she served.' The downfall of many. Sooner or later, they always ran into someone who didn’t give a damn. If not for Zander, that lesson would’ve been taught right now.

"You certainly act like you did."

"Is that a threat, Miss Akene?"

"And here I thought you were stupid."

A smirk tugged at Ashe’s lips as the mask cracked, irritation flickering in those sharp features. "Are you sure you want to risk your friend’s life, Miss Akene? Or the lives of your friends?"

"They're big boys and girls. They can handle themselves." That she knew of others didn't surprise Ash. After all, she was at the barracks to report that she was staying at the Broken Mug Inn. What Ashe couldn't figure out, though, was how they knew about them before their arrival in Castiana. There was no other explanation than that they had.

"What I can’t decide is whether I want to play along with someone who may be the reason Zander’s behind bars."

"Wait, Ashe. Don't be hasty..."

"Shut up, Birhane!"

"Mr. Robel's right, though. You shouldn't be hasty when we can just as easily approach someone else."

If they hadn't pried so deep into the group’s business, the lie might have held weight. "Sure, and I can just as easily become a lady. Let’s not kid ourselves - you came to me because you had no choice."

"Neither do you," the attendant shot back. "So, what's it gonna be, Miss Akene?"

"How do I know you can even get him out?"

A slow smile spread across the attendant’s face. "Actually, that part’s on you."

"You fuckers!" Ashe spat, daggers flashing into her grip. Everything clicked. "It was you!"

"Ashe, Ashe! For the fuck's sake, calm down. We don't have much time."

"Fuck you, Birhane! If I have to, I’ll carve you up too."

The attendant edged back, confidence slipping. "A-again, Mr. Robel is right. Time is running out. Our people can only keep Captain Rayden in the dark for so long. Once they find out who Mr. Denholm really is, they send him straight to prison in Fallen's Cry."

'Of course, Sahals had one here too.' No surprise. It would have been more shocking if they didn’t. It was too convenient. No way out, unless they let you. Toiling away for the rest of your life.

"And what’s your stake in this?" Ashe didn’t miss the implication. The attendant, and the lord she served, basically held the blade to Zander's throat. One word and...

"For now, let’s just say Captain Rayden isn't the type we'd want at the helm of the Castiana City Guards."

'Amateurs,' Ashe smirked, observing the woman’s glaring lack of experience. A little longer, and she would start boasting about the size of her tits. Exaggerated, sure. Still, people often reveal more than they mean to.

Apparently, the captain had become a thorn in this lord's arse, and there was nothing he could do to remove her. That was where Ashe came in.

"You plan to make her look incompetent - take the fall for failure."

"Something like that. The Lord will explain more."

Ashe raised an eyebrow. "You weren’t kidding? You want me to meet him?"

Not only was it clear they were behind Zander's arrest - well, maybe not the arrest itself, but she'd bet her arse those fools who provoked him had been paid by them - but they had made no qualms about taking advantage of their bond. Either insanely confident or downright stupid.

'Probably both.'

"Yes. He is eager to meet you.”

'Definitely both.'

No one in their right mind would leave anything to tie them back to her - much less this obvious. But they were the ones digging their own grave and she wasn't one to stop them.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Lead the way."

"Not so fast, Miss Akene."

"What? Second thoughts?"

The attendant didn’t answer, taking in her appearance from head to toe. "I can’t let you see him like this. Change into this."

"You fucking serious?" The thing thrust into her hands was a frilly dress, light purple with pink lace.

"Yes, and you should take it seriously, too. I'm doing you a favor, you know? My lord has a soft spot for good-looking women."

‘Old greedy horny prick. Big surprise.’ The thought stayed buried, and with a sigh, she swapped clothes using the outfit ring. It was better to let them think they held the strings for now.

'But when the time comes, Zander and I will make them regret everything. That’s a promise.’

END OF PROLOGUE

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Author’s note: The idea was that further intrigue would take place against the backdrop of the main story, brought to the foreground in the form of side stories.

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                                                     Glossary

                                                   Korra’s Grid

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