MALIA'S POV

I took my time in the room to get a perfect fitting cloth. All were good, but only one stood out. It had a silver zip Infront, dented in the black color of the jacket.

There were small blade pockets around, dip and wide enough to contain two slim blades. The servant rolled out a bag on the desk, gesturing to the blades arranged in them.

“Pick your poison,” she said.

My hand hovered over them, taking delight in every steel that shimmered under the sunlight. “I want it ...