The Queen Who Fights Back (by Lily Hastings) novel Chapter 199

**A Symphony of Shadows by Evelyn Hart**
**Chapter 199**

“Kassano,” Nova uttered, her voice a delicate whisper that carried an air of detachment as she unveiled the man concealed beneath the Ghost-Hammer mask.

‘To be more accurate,’ she mused, her mind racing. ‘It’s Kassano Oyet.’

Kassano was no stranger; he was the operative who had embedded himself within the rebel ranks on behalf of Nova, Snowfang, Falcony, Ghost-Hammer, and Marlie during the tumultuous Battle of Millinger in Arion.

Before the chaos erupted, he had been strategically positioned among the rebels, a silent observer feeding information back to Nova and her allies.

When Kassano made his way into the Bloodblade Mercenary Corps, it was Falcony who had extended the invitation. The reason he hadn’t betrayed Nova, unlike many of his fellow rebels, was due to the profound influence Falcony wielded over him.

In the final correspondence Marlie had penned for Nova, she had made a point to mention Kassano, a name that lingered in Nova’s mind like a ghost.

She was aware that after Kassano discovered the tragic news of Falcony and Marlie’s demise, he had severed ties with the Bloodblade Mercenary Corps and vanished into the shadows of the underworld.

Since that moment, silence had enveloped him like a shroud.

Even Nova was left in the dark regarding his whereabouts.

“Well, color me surprised! The ever-busy Merc Queen herself remembers a nobody like me,” Kassano quipped, his tone laced with a playful sarcasm that danced on the edge of mockery.

His face was so unremarkable that he could easily blend into a crowd, yet at this moment, a smirk played on his lips—an expression that hovered between derision and arrogance.

Once Nova had taken in his features, he swiftly donned the Ghost-Hammer mask again, concealing his identity once more.

“Considering you were my superior once, I thought it only fitting to give you a little warning,” Kassano declared, his voice morphing into a gravelly, muffled timbre, the gritty allure returning as he spoke.

His gaze pierced through the mask, unwavering and intense, as he continued,

“You’ve got a target on your back.”

“And it’s not merely the traitors from the Bloodblade Mercenary Corps that you need to worry about.”

“Bloodforge,” he taunted, a sardonic edge coloring his words. “Who would have guessed that someone as cold as you could actually possess the capacity to care about family?”

A dry, mocking laugh escaped his lips, echoing in the air like a haunting melody.

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