In the midst of psyching myself up I saw troop of men approach from several sides. Front and the back door, some mingling just outside in the quad. Great, this was all I needed right this second. For a brief moment I wondered if they were forewarned soldiers of a private goon squad. Builds certainly looked the part... but no. House of Raktkalis had universally recognisable aesthetic and they didn't shy from it.

These common thugs, on the other hand, were trying to blend in and appear like any off-duty bodyguards. They have probably been dancing around me for days and I just ignored them as part of the scenery. After all, everyone and their little sister brought muscle. It was likely my conditioning simply subconsciously steered me away from potential danger. Still, I should have noticed before they have gotten the kill order.

I reflected on that as I climbed out of the window. Sat waiting for coast to clear and finally spied something promising. One of the servant girls scurried off into a building nearby to carry out some other awfully early errand.

I followed her. It was same girl with way too much conscience. I could have knocked her out, but needed the confirmation first. I was not going to go anywhere near those households without a damn compelling reason.

Noticing me, servant girl looked around nervously and spoke determinedly, "I can't talk to you."

"D-does he have my lapt-top?" I asked eagerly and far too loud, betraying my nerves and the anxiety.

Even though young girl's face contorted in empathy, there was no reply. Not verbal. Her hand went up in a gesture of self-embrace, she looked away. Guilt if I ever seen one. Healthy dose of trepidation too, of course. Who would want to snitch on a provider of their livelihood? Such noble one at that. I'd absolutely look after my own hide first.

Regardless. It was enough of confirmation for me. In a practised move I smacked frail child on the jaw and she flew off like a twig. My blow wasn't that strong. Dragged light body into one of the classrooms and put on the little woman's clothes. I was of a far healthier build than her. My skin tone wasn't sickly pale, either. Also, I had hair. Kalanta was heavily industrialised and one could not escape the appropriate look. A mere plastic gown barely masked all the discrepancies. No, that's wrong. It wasn't doing a thing. On its own it would be useless.

At the sink I wet my hair and soaped it up. Stuttering the curses, began shaving it off. Not a simple task to pull off with a utility knife, but I'd done it before. It helped that the tool was sharp. Result was not ideal but fairly passable.

Finding chalk by the blackboard, I drew on all my exposed skin, as well as dusted the top of head copiously. I could not have done shoddier job if I tried, but these were the materials I had on hand. Everything else was behind backs of at least ten murderous brigands.

Gliding out as demurely as humanely possible, I reached one of the dorms and climbed the stairs to the penthouse. I've never been here before, mostly due to healthy dose of self-preservation. However, that also meant I knew exactly who to avoid and where. Knowledge I always kept at the back of my mind was promptly coming to surface.

The top floor turned out to be obscenely roomy and this was but a landing. Two suites occupied an entire level, and both privileged occupants could have their platoons stand guard in a formation or even dance freestyle without ever touching.

Luckily for me, the security wasn't nearly in such overabundance. Whatever that was here, stood out of sight and away from the direct path. I could glide by without getting closely scrutinised.

I didn't know which of the suites were occupied by a right titleholder. Cultural differences helped me out again and I gently turned left. Handful of darkly-clad soldiers all stood tense but crowded away as if trying their best to be less of an eyesore. Perhaps it annoyed little lordling to have all this eager manpower underfoot. How insanely exploitable. Young Raktkalis must have thought himself invincible, certainly impervious to a direct frontal assault on his turf.

Well, it was the unthinkable. I was here because I had no other choice. However, that's exactly how assassins are presented their tasks too.

I crossed the forbidden threshold and stepped inside. The décor was predictably dark. Wide tinted windows, carpets only a shade less black than the glistening marble floor. Only the servants stood out in their discordant whiteness, floating around noiselessly like disembodied souls. By the looks of things the breakfast feast was about ready to be served. The living hall was not the place I wanted or needed to be at.

As quietly as the rest of the ghostly ensemble, I made my way up to the dais and glided towards the other rooms. One of these just had to be the office. Not a single servant lifted head to look my way, meticulously going about their own business. Again, suspiciously convenient.

This could end really badly. I'd be mistaken for a contract killer. They'll torture me to find out details I do not possess.

I felt my legs try to go numb on me out of fright, but this was not the time nor the place.

What the hell was I doing here? This was supposed to be simple, risk-free affair. I kept my head down and never even crossed paths with these people precisely due to danger they presented, regardless of associated rewards on anything related to the ruling elite.

Soundlessly cracked a first door open. Unused sparse bedroom. Following room presented with a soft growling of dogs. I bypassed it without checking. My fingers shook contemplating the options in the likely case my property was in there.

Not having much choice, stuck my nose into the following chamber. Weapons storage. Daggers and swords mostly, even though the precious contenders to the throne were permitted to carry firearms for self-defence purposes. Of course, the privilege extended to sworn swords too. There would be no opportunistic insurrections permitted.

Following door - the wardrobe. For lineage who's never even dreamed of wearing anything besides black, this was a lot of various shelves. I could bet they've lost at least one flamboyant cousin to whoever policed Raktkalises' dress code. I imagined the tasteful fellow just getting shot right at the dinner table in a family gathering.

Up next... I heard deeper exhales of near-wakefulness. The bedroom of lord princeling himself. Also not something I should encroach upon at any cost. Bless this beauty slumber.

Damn. If not for that whole other situation, I could have had access to my resources. Roll a vial of sleeping gas in and my peace of mind would be in hand – in so many ways. I was certain everywhere I frequented was being watched by one party or the other. Should have placed the essentials in locations besides the places I slept at – my mistake, influenced by a deceptively safe environment. A staggering oversight. It will end up costing me not only success but also the survival.

No. No visualisation of worst case scenarios. Learn from this.

Which left me with the final room. Corner. The office view that people craved, so it would be promising if not for the fact the inhabitant had something against natural light. However, I was in luck. I almost hadn't expected this eccentric décor to encompass an actual desk.

I hurried to shut the door behind me and began to rummage. The room was so tidy it bordered on an unused. For a moment I was afraid the cabinets would be empty, but an odd stack of books was revealed once in a while and carpet had scuff marks from the chair. Desk drawers contained no knickknacks. Orderly stacks of irrelevant schoolwork. Pity, had these been some documents I could have just walked out and been content.

State affairs being hidden away I could completely understand. More baffling than that were absent sundries. Where were the personal trifles? Even having servants didn't excuse this severe a lack of personality. There wasn't even a single quirky pen. The assignments didn't have doodles in the margin. I filled in a slur out of spite.

Missing likableness aside, most important quandary was blaring in my mind like a siren. Where was my laptop? I've checked every surface and recess here. Everything besides the safe, which I had no way of opening. Insipid young master did not jot down his passwords or conveniently left them out.

Worse, I heard him stir in the room nearby. Raktkalis had finally woken up and was walking around. The footsteps were heavy and determined. He obviously had no need to sneak around his own place, unlike the servants whom I suspected to be there too but had no definite proof of.

I hid, but echo of boots drifted off into the great lounge. At the window I pondered choice between just leaving and pushing my luck some more. The device I sought could have been with him in the bedroom. Unlikely, but not impossible. I would certainly try to crack the password and calculate my haul deep into the night. However, this asshole probably had other people for tedious tasks like that. Chances are, my property was downstairs in grubby hands of some duty-bound musclehead. Too late to go looking in that haystack now. Wouldn't even know where to begin.

Shook myself out of crippling inaction and stashed away the desire to be virtually anywhere else. Trying to time my expedition with stomps that were falling further away, I stepped out and snuck those unspeakably dangerous several steps into the bedroom.

Perhaps I had been wrong about servants eagerly attending to their lordling from the moment of his waking - the evidence of life had not yet been erased. Bed was unmade. Shirt lay on the floor and a drawer was left ajar. A phone had been ditched by the bedside. The sight actually let me breathe out in relief. So this was a person after all, not some monster that just lay ramrod straight and was still the whole night.

I hurried to rummage through the drawers in an otherwise empty room. Barely started when I heard remarkably low masculine voice ask, "Where's the report?" 

I would not have ever attributed that timbre to a teenager. Perhaps I was mistaken, the institute was open to all ages. A realisation which made this endeavour that much more dangerous. He could be a proper officer with all appropriate experience and personal resources.

One of the servant girls made a silent, nervous excuse. It wasn't here yet apparently.

"But you're all here," Raktkalis sounded terribly displeased about something and boy I did not envy the poor souls in his line of sight. There was something debasing about that tone.

Wait. All? He counted me in. How did he know? Were there cameras? Did he catch a sight of me sneaking? Was I being too loud? So many possibilities ran through my mind and all of them were utterly irrelevant. It was useful to have good hearing in situations like these. Extra time to panic.

"Come here," a much louder tone commanded, as if specifically aimed at someone in another room. Needless to say I wasn't about to comply. A servant of the household would already have been prostrated before the masters, because not a second later young lord got up and went looking for such blatant disobedience.

Heavy footfalls were getting closer without any hurry in them. He knew exactly where I was and that I had been cornered. So he still assumed this was but a meek attendant rather than trespassing assassin. Little miracles.

Grabbed the only thing of value in sight, the forgotten phone and tiptoed to the window. This was the fifth floor. Even a seasoned assassin would have hard time climbing down dressed in this scanty gown and nothing else. I was no seasoned assassin. With a little more time and less of a pounding pulse I could make my way down. I had neither luxury. Footsteps weren't already here only due to the enormous living room.

Controlling my breathing I bit down on the gadget, hung myself outside off the sill and pulled the window closed. Heard him stride in and ponder in confusion. Menacing presence then thundered out to check the other rooms. Confusion and doubt will buy me only so much time. I still needed to get off here and my fingers were starting to give up. I hadn't neglected training them per se, but turns out this easy-going campus life was disagreeing with me anyway.

Free-fall wasn't a viable option. Not if I wanted to keep my delusions about walking away scot-free. I would still need to sacrifice something for a favourable outcome and that would have to be my hands. I let go, immediately grabbing for sill of the floor below. Elbow hit concrete and shattered – or at least tried its best to give that impression. Fingers desperately clung onto the rough surface... but didn't manage to hold on as body weight pulled me down.

I reached out the grazed forearms to repeat manoeuvre, only to slam both wrists onto the hard surface this time. The pain I felt was always dull at the worst, otherwise I suspect it would have been blinding. The debilitated body had its upsides. This one I really liked, especially at crucial times like this.

The impeded fall was terrifying nevertheless. I felt myself on the verge of a scream or at least a yelp from each jostle. It helped that my teeth were clenched tight around a precious bargaining chip. Besides, there was the added incentive - if I don't do this exactly right, the suffering and fear will be much worse. I tried to cling with the profusely bleeding arms again and again, right until plopping down on the pavement.

I simply breathed without seeing anything besides white. Attempted to move and everything but the arms worked as it should have. I was alive. I could probably walk. I couldn't believe this worked.

However, this was far from over. Blinking vigorously and willing sightlessness away, I got up and inspected my palms. Blood pooled in the recesses. I flung it into the distance to lead the pursuit wrong way and hugging the wall I darted back into the building through a window I knew to be open. This place had a terrible problem with vandals.

The shower curtain of a gown predictably was awful at keeping the blood at bay. I was twisting the hem up and around my raw arms but ended up just smearing the fabric wet and losing grip on it. It was easily the worst article I've ever worn. I was convinced this body bag of a dress was determined to let me bleed out. What a convenient design. Raktkalis might get me yet – in a most unexpected way. At least the upturned hem contained all the dripping.

Sprinted towards communal shower. Needed to be rid of this reddening chalk. Perhaps nick a towel or even someone's change of clothes. There still wasn't a soul around, but soon this place would be swarming. Crowds were the best way to disappear.