Silk & Sabotage

Chapter 4.1: The Dahlia Directive

Part I: "The Bloom in Shadows"

Two years ago – Lina Loas, District palace of Auriel.

He arrived under the name Kael Venric.

But that wasn't who he was.

Not really.

In Rica, he had another name. Another face. In the war rooms of the underground intelligence division, he was simply called V-21 — operative, ghost, phantom. The man trusted with missions too delicate for warlords and too dirty for diplomats.

Operation Dahlia had been hand-delivered by Irina herself, sealed with the silver wax of Rica's covert council. A floral code name, ironic and deceptive — fitting for a mission that required seduction, surveillance, and slow psychological dismantling.

Objective: Infiltrate the inner circle of General Diego Veyra — hero of the southern campaign, guardian of Lina Loas' military secrets, and father of Mia Veyra.

Point of Entry: The daughter. The diplomat. The one no man could get close to.

At first glance, it should've been impossible.

Mia Veyra was known across both continents as untouchable. Cold. Calculated. She read people faster than she read intelligence files — and if she suspected even a sliver of disloyalty, she crushed it beneath five-inch heels and an iron tongue.

But Irina had chosen Mino Kael for a reason. He wasn't a brute. He didn't come in guns blazing. He entered like perfume — unnoticed until it lingered on everything.

---

His cover was crafted flawlessly:

A trade liaison from Rica's northeastern ports

Educated in Arrellian economics, fluent in Loa dialects

With a distant connection to an obscure ambassador who owed Rica a favor

His diplomatic papers were authentic. His accent, rehearsed. His memories, fabricated.

But the best lie he carried wasn't the identity.

It was the way he looked at her — Mia Veyra — as though he wasn't there to unravel her world from within.

Because even the way he looked at her was part of the mission.

---

He began small.

Dropped breadcrumbs.

A compliment here, a challenge there.

Let her catch him watching — not too long, not too eager — just enough to spark curiosity.

Then came proximity.

He positioned himself in places where her presence was inevitable:

A state dinner.

A late-night strategy briefing.

The back row of the eastern archives, where the war maps of the rebellion were stored.

Mino didn't need to push.

Mia Veyra invited puzzles to come closer.

And he made himself the most fascinating puzzle in the room.

---

Within three weeks, he had memorized the route of every internal guard rotation.

By week eight, he'd gained access to four classified documents via strategic misfiling, a borrowed access token, and two charming words whispered into a flustered officer's ear.

By week 20, he had retrieved a list of encrypted communication codes hidden inside a foreign treaty draft — disguised as a misplaced footnote.

But the real prize was Mia.

Not her heart.

Her habits.

She stayed late in the war room most nights. She met secretly with two military advisors who reported directly to her, bypassing her father. She had access to troop movements that not even Rica's outer intel branches had ever seen.

And worse — she was beginning to like him.

He could feel it in the way she turned toward him when he spoke.

In how she answered his questions with a smirk instead of suspicion.

In how her shoulder brushed his more often than coincidence would allow.

He should've been pleased.

But there were nights — quiet, still — when he'd sit at his desk, mission notes open, lips still tingling from the press of her skin, and wonder if he was still acting at all.

---

One night, the shadows bled too close.

He received a dead-drop signal embedded in a letter from a Rician diplomat: "Dahlia in bloom. Confirm extraction window."

His mission was nearing the final stage.

He was to obtain one of two things:

1. A copy of the encrypted supply routes for Lina Loas' northern defenses

2. Or… Mia Veyra's secure line access to her father's inner council — biometric-locked and near impossible to clone

Extraction was scheduled within 10 days.

But there was a problem.

He didn't want to leave.

Or worse — he never planned to stay. A mission meant to last a few months… he let it drag into a year. And deep down, he knew why.

---

Mia, meanwhile, had been watching him for weeks.

At first, it had been curiosity.

Then wariness.

And now?

Now it was something far more dangerous.

Because she knew.

Maybe not the full truth. Not the mission title. Not the layers of Rician command.

But she saw the tells.

The slip in his accent when he drank.

The odd phrasing in Loan dialect when he thought no one was listening.

The way he watched the maps too carefully.

The way he never touched the same door handle twice.

She knew he was deceiving her.

And she let it happen.

Because she needed to know why.

Because somewhere between suspicion and seduction, she began playing a game of her own.

And for once in her life, she didn't want to win it.

---

At exactly 1:00 a.m. that night, she intercepted a note meant for Mino.

Her own guards never knew.

The note contained a phrase embedded in a poem slipped between two historical documents:

"Dahlia bleeds before it blooms."

She read it once.

Then again.

Then folded it, locked it away, and walked to her mirror.

She stared at her reflection for a long time.

Then whispered to no one:

"Let's see what he does next."

---

That same night, in his chamber, Mino stared at a copy of her father's fingerprint-stamped seal.

He'd obtained it two days ago by faking a tea spill in the command hall.

The only thing left to do now…

…was decide whether to finish the mission.

His finger hovered over the hidden transmitter embedded in the spine of his leather notebook.

Just one press would confirm Dahlia's bloom.

Just one press would summon extraction.

But his hand trembled.

Because he remembered the feel of her breath against his jaw,

the taste of her mouth,

the sound of his name on her lips — the real one, whispered in the dark the night she first kissed him like she meant it.

He didn't press the button.

Not yet.