Page 7 of Cut of the Dark Elf's Blade

Because at this point, I have perfected the art of death, and I love my daggers more than I have ever loved my family.

I like killing. And the servants sense that.

That is why they avoid me at all costs. And that is why I can scare them so easily.

I cannot help but revel in the fear they feel towards me. The fear fuels me, and the further I walk into the house, the more my exhaustion vanishes.

I find my brother in my father’s study. He is studiously going over the accounts for one of the many businesses that he has tried, and failed, to start up in the past.

It looks like he is trying again. Hasn’t he learned his lesson by now? He’ll fail now as he has failed in the past. Why Father allows this is beyond me.

I do not feel much emotion. The emotions I do feel, however, are mostly a large ball of frustration, annoyance, and rage.

“Hello, dear brother.” I lean against the doorframe as my brother jumps up from his seat.

His eyes are wide with shock at seeing me.

“Luocre, what are you doing here?”

“That is such a strange question, don’t you think?” My voice is casual. “I am Luocre Ilnais, of the Ilnais family. And you, dear brother, are asking me what I am doing on the Ilnais estate, the home of my family? Where I grew up?”

“I just meant…” He fingers his collar nervously. I am delighted to see the beads of sweat welling up on his forehead. “I just meant, we weren’t expecting you.”

“Next time, I’ll send a letter ahead of my arrival,” I say sarcastically and then take a seat in one of Father’s armchairs.

Rhiucra’s body is as stiff as a board. His body is stiffer than Mother’s if that is possible. I grin at him with my smile, which I know is eerily bright and white.

“So, starting a new business, are you?” I cross one leg over the other and lace my fingers together in my lap.

To an outsider, we simply look like two brothers having a conversation.

We almost look alike. Almost.

I used to examine the differences between us a year or two ago. I used to look at pictures of us obsessively to see how far the similarities stretched between us. Our features are mostly the same. We are roughly the same height. I am more muscular than Rhiucra, though that is simply because I spend so much time working out. For all of those similarities, however, Rhiucra inherited our mother’s pale features, while I did not.

But I believe now that if we were to stand side-by-side, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell that we are brothers. Rhiucra doesn’t look like a predator.

I do.

“Yes. I’m trying to, anyway,” Rhiucra murmurs in answer to my question. He still has not sat down since I entered the room.

“Well, I’m sure it will work out this time,” I say cheerfully. I don’t miss the way my brother has started edging towards the door. “You really shouldn’t think about all the times you failed before.”

I call this after him as he practically sprints out of the room.

I start whistling as I look out of the window of Father’s study. I cannot deny that I am bored.

I am waiting for the next job, and until then, I have nothing to do.

You could always go back to the city. Enjoy some of the pleasures on offer in the Red District,I tell myself.

Maybe if Father was here, I would have someone to have an intelligent conversation with. He would actually spend time with me, even if it was just for an hour.

I get up from the armchair, still whistling as I make my way back downstairs.

One of the zagfers sees me coming and scurries away, and I burst into loud laughter. My laughter is rich and swells throughout the mansion, filling it until every single person in the mansion knows that I have arrived.

I can practically see my mother leaning against her locked door. I can see her wincing at the sound of my laughter.