“Choi, you seem to be misunderstanding our intentions.” The voice comes from behind Zai Tianci like an ice-cold blade dripping with hot poison, this wife of his speaking in a tone that draws souls to utter terror. It’s a mountain bear tearing into the belly of a pregnant ibex, the crack of a bullet being racked into a rifle’s chamber; each word from the mouth of Sophia Elise the Eighth seemingly made to unravel and annihilate any semblance of civilization in this hotel lobby. “You believe this to be a business transaction: something auditable, something with paper trails that you can reference. You are incorrect.”

  The hotel manager is off put to a concerning degree, taking a sharp breath as she tries not to tremble. “What is that supposed to…”

  “Silence.” Sophia doesn’t even blink as she stares down this animal. “We are not here to be auditors. If we were, you would not be here to even speak to us. We are here to establish ourselves in this town, and this dump that you’ve let decay under your stewardship is our first step. Your owners, those you bend your knees to, are inconsequential in this scheme that you think you’re playing.”

  She takes a measured, cold step from the shadow of her husband and into the light; this war-crime-worthy political weapon zeroing in on the wedding ring clinging to the hotel manager’s finger. “You have a family Choi. You have a mother, you have a father. You have a spouse, a child. You have people you care about, who care about you. If you were to disappear today, you would have people grieve for you. You have people that if… removed from your life you would grieve for them too. You have a beautiful life here, don’t you?”

  There’s long silence, this threat processed for as the distant sound of crashing ocean waves echo through this lobby.

  Guardsman Mori Fushimi, still wearing that stupidly colored shirt of hers, hides a traitorous level of surprised laughter under an uncharacteristic seriousness. Words cold, put to an order to this now single target of interrogation. “Answer the Mistress.”

  “I-I-...I do.”

  “Then you have something to lose.” This wife of Jin Zhou stares her down. “You think you have power, whatever little happiness you’ve carved for yourself in this place. That happiness is not yours. We can take it away from you, with or without your permission. Do you understand?”

  This peasant looks away, trying to take a breath.

  “Look at me.”

  And she has to stare at this ensolian monster, at those lifeless blue eyes that reflect nothing but primordial terror like a lioness eating a wounded deer alive.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  The thing continues. “I want you to understand: we are here to conduct business. And your involvement with that business is your decision. You have a choice in this matter. So make it.”

  Silence.

  Because in the face of this terror, that’s everything the world could come up with.

  And the Internal Monologue of Sophia’s gives a small scoff as it takes its sweet time to process the words that just came out of her mouth. The bark of sarcasm in its statement to the consciousness committee. We just terrified both this poor Hotel Manager and our husband probably. Great work as usual everyone!

  Sophia screams at her mind, keeping this social mask in front of her face. Where the hells did that come from?!

  She doesn’t get much of a chance to dwell on it, with the hotel manager simply lowering her head towards this couple of outsiders. “I-if you wish to see our financials… then I’ll bring them out.”

  Zai Tianci cuts that offer down, riding on the wave of Sophia’s pressure. “No. You will bring us into your administrative offices. There, we will look at your financial documentation on our terms.”

  There’s power in his words, beyond that of just wealth. Something born within his soul, a command of something near-divine. These were the orders of a Dominion that has ruled its people for thousands of years, of a lineage that has existed for eons come now to extract this sorta vital financial data from this decently well paid employee of some pretty much unknown town with an ocean view.

  “Y-yes sir.” She shirks away, quickly bowing. “I-if you will follow me.”

  Sophia Elise is paralyzed in her own morbidity, those words coming from her mouth still echoing in her brain like the trauma of a public execution. This Fourth Princess can’t move, can’t even think as she just stares with that cold scowl.

  Guardsman Mori Fushimi chuckles, quickly leaning into her ear to snap her out of it. “Nice work.”

  Sophia barely gets the words out as this Dominion Guardian takes her by the shoulder, forcing her to walk in pace with Zai. “W-what?”

  Mori really keeps the words quiet, avoiding any sort of eavesdropping. “You’ll do well in the High Court with that attitude. Keep this up and that husband of yours will have no choice but to keep you around~”

  The Fourth Princess doesn’t know how to take that, keeping her head low and eyes forward as she walks like some mechanical machine a few steps behind her husband of all people.

  She bites her tongue, almost enough to draw blood. Just remind yourself that after all this is over, you’ve got a dozen egg custard tarts waiting for you. Those utterly creamy, delicious little pastries ready for you to inhale in less than two minutes. Yes, think of all those pastries once you’re done with this mess.

  Her imagination manages to keep her on track, still sane as her social battery reads completely drained after just one conversation. Because she’ll need this sanity to eat those pastries, to have enough of her psyche alive to power through this dreadful day of hers and into a better tomorrow.

  She hides an utterly exhausted, panting look on her face with that usual cold, emotionless gaze. Goddess above, please please please keep me alive for another two hours…