Night on Treasure Island never truly slept.
But that night, more shadows seemed to drift through the narrow alleys, lavish residences, and damp dock district. A heavy, uneasy tension hung in the air, like the stillness before a storm.
In the Noble District, beneath a secluded Hunting Villa.
Candlelight flickered over the faces gathered around a rough wooden table, casting them alternately into light and shadow.
The air smelled of aged wine and cigar smoke, mingled with suppressed excitement and fear.
"Neharry has confirmed it. He wants to send people in to contribute to the plan."
A marquis with a carefully trimmed short beard spoke quietly. For some reason, he was so nervous that his foot kept tapping the floor, making a succession of faint knocks.
"It will be the evening after tomorrow. The king will hear the Royal Guard's report of their successful campaign against the Snake-Men in the royal side hall. There happens to be a gap in the guards' rotation there."
"The Palace Guard's deputy commander is one of my men. He assured me..."
A portly count dabbed the fine sweat from his forehead with a silk handkerchief.
"...that when the time comes, his men will be a few minutes slow to respond. Enough for our people to finish the job and withdraw."
"A few minutes? Are you sure that's enough?" A young viscount could not help questioning him, his voice growing shrill with nerves.
"If we fail..."
"We won't fail!"
The marquis cut him off, his gaze sharp and cold.
"Apart from Baron Neharry's men, the assassins we selected are our most loyal-and most desperate-men, prepared to die for this. Their families' futures depend on it. Besides..."
He paused, lowering his voice until it was almost a whisper.
"...afterward, amid the chaos, we will immediately seize