Isabel’s blue eyes examined me. She stood in the doorway, a dead silence hanging in the air. Finally, she said, almost as if it was a normal thing to say, “You don’t look like an assassin to me.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed.
“That’s what they all say.”
“So your real name isn’t Aella?” she asked.
“No,” I shook my head, swinging my legs. “It’s Adalia.”
“And you were an assassin for the king of Astodia?”
“Formerly, yes,” I confirmed.
“What . . . what was it like? Killing people? Working for the king? Didn’t he die?” Her eyes widened. “Did you kill him?”
“No.”
“How did he die?” she pressed. I shut my eyes, pained, as if she were reopening a fresh wound.
“I don’t––” I took a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about this, Isabel.”
She nodded. “Of course.” She walked into the room, standing a few feet away from me. “But did you kill the prince of Astodia?” I froze, my heartbeat accelerating.
“I worked for the king,” I snapped.
“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” she asked, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder. I slapped it away.
“Don’t touch me.” I got to my feet. “One of us is going to have to leave the room, and I’d prefer it wasn’t me.”
Isabel scowled unapologetically. “Fine.” She turned on her heel, walking out in frustration. The door slammed shut behind her.
I shook my head with a scoff as I leaned against the bedpost. A short laugh escaped my lips. She asked if I killed the prince. The thought seemed too silly. I had killed him in a way, but how would she ever understand?
Moments later, someone knocked on the door. “Aella—Adalia,” Jax corrected from behind the wood. I heard a crinkle of paper, and imagined it to be the poster with my face drawn onto it. Somebody who knew me had drawn it, for it was fairly similar to my face; the cheekbones, hair, gray eyes . . . the unsmiling lips. “Isabel’s gone. She didn’t answer when I asked where she was going. Did something happen?” I didn’t reply. The doorknob turned, and Jax stepped inside.
“Hello,” he greeted.
“She’s right,” I nodded. Jax watched me, confused. “Yes. I did kill him. It was my fault, anyway.”
I signed up for fighting in the Ring Battles. My name was there, still Aella.
Below my name was Jax’s, and below his, much to his protest, was Isabel’s.
“I hope the princess notices us,” Jax said to me as I strapped on my boots. We were heading out to the Rings to meet the rest of the players today, and I knew Isabel had more questions to ask about my past, but I was thankful she didn’t mention any of them. She had cooled down, and told me it didn’t matter how I had spent my days before I met her a dJax—what really mattered was how I chose to move forward.
“I don’t care if she notices us or not,” Isabel shrugged, slipping her sword in her sheath.
“It would certainly make our lives easier,” Jax shrugged. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a muscular chest as he changed into another one.
“Anyway,” I rolled my eyes as he flashed me a grin, “Whether the princess notices us or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that we’re doing this for—”
“Practice?”
“Training?” Isabel suggested.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m doing this for myself.” I stretched out my arms and legs, sliding a few knives into my belt. I cracked my neck, and then my knuckles.
“Ready?”
They nodded.
There were many men. A few women, but men of all regions scattered around the arena. I took a good look at them, and then whispered, “See that man?” I pointed to one with muscular arms and a thick body. “He’ll probably use an axe as a weapon.”
“To chop heads off, right?” Jax said with a lopsided grin, teasing.
“Killing is against the rules,” Isabel said quickly, as if that would clarify things.
“Accidents happen,” I shrugged. She shuddered, rubbing the back of her neck. “That woman over there,” I pointed to a thin redhead, wearing a black suit, “she’s fast with her knives. If you’re put up against her, run in a zigzag pattern.”
They nodded, listening closely.
“The blond man has skills with the sword.”
“How do you know all this?” Jax asked. “Just by looking at them?”
“I was trained for this.”
“You never cease to amaze me.”
“I know.”
Jax gave me a look, and I realized with a jolt that I had a problem. I couldn’t be sympathetic. I had to be snobby and rude with a big head, but I couldn’t help it. I had been the king’s assassin, and now that he was dead and gone and they knew, I realized how big of a luxury it had been. And I’d thrown it all away.
I adjusted my mask and the twins mimicked my actions. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Horn Blower approaching us.
He introduced himself as Amherst.
“The Ring Battles begin in a week,” Amherst said. The Rings, for now, will be training grounds for our twenty-six fighters,” he explained. “Each of you enter with one weapon of choice. There shall be no killing or maiming before the Battles begin, but small quarrels cannot be stopped, eh?” He grinned at the crowd that stood before him. “As you all may know, this is a tough match and there is a big prize at the end of it. I’ve chosen the best of all the fighters I’ve met and I do not want to be disappointed.” And with that he was finished. I glanced at Isabel who shrugged. Jax seemed to be surveying the crowd, trying to learn their specialties.
“It won’t help,” I said.
“What?” He turned to me, snapping out of his trance.
“Watching them. It won’t help. I do it because I’ve grown up watching people like these—it comes easy to me. You, on the other hand, can’t prepare for a fight with street fighters like these. The best you can do is when you’re in the Rings against one of them,” I explained. “Watch their movements. Think from their point of view.”
“Right. I should listen to the best,” he nodded with a teasing smile. I rolled my eyes.
This didn’t look like a tough crowd. I could handle them.
I let my eyes drink in my future opponents. One of them stood out to me in particular. His hood was pulled down to cover his face and he didn’t bother to assess the challengers. He sat there as if he knew exactly what he was up against.
I shook my head. The fighters with ego were always the ones who were defeated first. I turned from him, only to come face-to-face with the fiery red hair.
“I hear you’re something to be feared,” she said, a smirk on her lips. When I didn’t reply, she continued. “Well, I guess I’ll see how great you are in the Rings.”
“Of course.” The answer was short, clipped.
“My name is Jennifer—I prefer Jenna.”
“Aella.”
And the conversation was over.
I slipped into Sleeping Drakon’s. It was oddly quiet tonight. I needed something before I stepped into battle—one that determined whether I could still live up to my old expectations. Two years—I’d spent two years searching for a place to settle down. It was painful, the first few months. I’d lost people. Prince Xavier died. So I left, wandering for two years trying to reset my life. After I met the twins, I decided to settle in Crea, where we wandered upon the Rings.
I sat at an old table and took a breath, letting my head rest on my forearms.
“May I get you anythin’?” The woman wore a black dress, red lipstick drawn across her lips. Her green eyes twinkled. I shook my head.
“No, thank you.”
“Are you sure you’re in the right place, honey?” She put a hand on my shoulder. I tried not to cringe at her touch.
“I’m fine.”
“Would you like a—”
I slammed my fist against the table. “I said I’m fine!” She t
ook a step back on one heeled shoe, surprised. She scrunched up her nose.
“I heard ya the first time.” She turned, her shoes clicking as she disappeared into a dark corner to irritate someone else. I stretched my legs, leaning against the back of my chair, when the door swung open.
A tall man with auburn hair entered the room. I took one good look at him and knew what he was here for. I slipped my hand under my cloak, my fingers tightening around a knife. He made a move for his sword, but in seconds the blade of the knife was buried in his chest.
A groan escaped his lips and the red-lipped woman gave a shriek of dismay.
“Shut up,” I hissed at her, taking a step towards the man’s body which lay spread eagled on the floor. He made a feeble attempt to pull the knife out.
“Don’t try that. If your lung has been punctured, you will die immediately,” I warned. He moaned, letting his hand drop to his side. Scrambling, he got onto all fours and grabbed at his sword. He swung it towards me. I sidestepped, slamming my boot against his fingers. The sword landed to the side and his eyes met mine as he clutched his hand.
“Why are you here?” I asked. “Who sent you?” I sat on my haunches in front of him.
“Everyone across the kingdoms are looking for you,” he said with a hoarse laugh.
I grabbed the knife, giving it a push, and he shouted a stream of curses at me, writhing in pain.
“Don’t come after me again. Do you understand?” I said through my teeth. Not waiting for a reply, I exited the tavern, leaving the blade in his chest. I heard his muffled cries for help, and let the red-lipped barmaid do as she pleased. Whether he lived or died today would not be on my hands.
It wasn’t long before Jax came looking for me. I stood over the bridge, drinking in the silence. The water passed smoothly through the rocks, wearing them down. Over time there would be nothing left except small stones.
Over time, just like the rocks, I would be forgotten—which in my case was probably a good thing.
“I knew I’d find you here,” Jax said from behind me. I turned to face him.
“I killed a man,” I blurted out. He froze, his hand halfway to the wooden rail behind me. “I mean, I didn’t kill him. I think I did. But I know I shouldn’t have. I just—”
“You don’t need to explain to me,” he waved his hand.
“Don’t do it.”
“But I shouldn’t have done it. There’s a part of me that wanted me to sit down and relax and handle it with my words but I stabbed him, Jax. In the chest.”
“You’re being hunted. It was self-defense.”
“You don’t understand.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “I don’t feel guilty. But my conscience is screaming at me to tell you.”
“I don’t want to understand,” he said.
“What are you thinking?” I said.
“You killed someone,” he repeated slowly, mulling over the words.
“I said that. But he may not be dead.”
“Do you regret it?” he asked, his cold blue eyes narrowed. I opened my mouth to answer, but thought otherwise and shut it. “Well?” he pressed.
“I . . . no.”
“Alright.” He rubbed his chin. “So, do you want me to fix you?”
“You can’t fix me,” I said, taken aback.
“You’re right. Because there’s nothing to fix,” he said.
“Jax.” He was wrong. I was completely broken. Every piece of me had fallen apart. I couldn’t name a part of me that was left complete.
“Alright.” He brushed a thumb against his chin, as if trying to think of something. Finally, his cold blue eyes met mine. “Stab me right here,” he pointed at his chest.
“What? No!” I said, appalled. Was he out of his mind?
“Go ahead. Do it.” He pulled a knife out of his belt and took my hand, wrapping my fingers around the hilt.
“I’d never do that.”
“Why?” he asked. “Explain why you’d never stab me.”
“Because you’re my friend,” I said boldly, taking the
chance, even though the truth made me blush.
“Case in point,” he smiled. “You were using self-defense when you stabbed him. You wouldn’t hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.”
“Oh, you deserve it,” I crossed my arms over my chest.
But his words made sense. I let them linger in my head and relaxed.
Self-defense.
SIX
One of my earliest memories from the castle was at one of King Sadim’s parties. It was the first grand ball I’d ever been invited to, and I felt drastically out of place. A flurry of skirts brushed against me as I made my way to the king’s balcony where he stood, watching from the top of the room. As I approached the spiral of steps, a boy stepped in front of me. Dark hair brushed his golden eyes, falling just below his ears. He bowed, a small smile playing on his lips.
I knew him all too well. Prince Xavier Cane stood before me. Trying to hold down my panic I curtsied, and he gave me a small bow in return. “May I have this dance?” I didn’t have an answer, so he did what he had to do. He took my arm, sweeping me to the center of the giant ballroom. He had my first dance. The whole time, I kept my gaze on his shoes.
“You have one life, Adalia,” he said then. “Don’t use it all up doing something you don’t enjoy.” His eyes flickered to his father who sat waiting for me. At first I hadn’t understood those words, but looking back now I knew exactly what he meant.
Switching back to reality, a sigh escaped my lips.
I fingered the hilt of my sword as I stood in front of my opponent. It was Jenna.
“It’s ironic how Amherst pitted us against each other after he saw us interacting,” Jenna said with a laugh.
“I was expecting him to do so.”
Her thin lips curled. “I won’t go easy on you,” she made sure to add quickly, her eyes examining my sword.
“Neither will I.”
The crowds cheered loudly, but I’d learned to block them out. I heard the name “Aella” chanted repeatedly, and was relieved to hear there were people rooting for me. I pulled my sword out of its sheath just as Amherst approached us, going over the rules. “No maiming, no killing.” Injuries were allowed.
My knuckles were white from gripping the hilt so tightly. I waited for Amherst to step back, feeling the blood pounding in my ears.
I charged.
My sword sliced against the air as her arms moved fast, razor blades flying towards my skin.
I tilted the blade so it could deflect the flying knives, and felt a slice against my left cheek. Wincing, I reached up, the tips of my fingers brushing against my face.
“Too quick for you?” Jenna laughed. I was surprised to hear it was lighthearted, as if she were actually enjoying this.
I let out a laugh. “I’m just warming up.” As she went for a new supply of blades in her belt, I slashed my sword against her arm. She scowled and dropped a few, cursing as I swiped them off the floor. I held them up between my fingers.
“Too quick for you?” I mimicked, and she grinned. I was going to win. I could feel it in my stomach, my chest. As she reached behind her and threw a shuriken that went whizzing past my ear, I made a decision. She charged at me and as I tried to sidestep her, I tripped, landing on my arm. She took the chance and grabbed her knife, holding it at my throat.
She won.
I smiled as Amherst.
Surprised, he held up her arm as the champion. He watched me as if he couldn’t really see me.
“Didn’t know you would go down this easy, Miss.”
I shrugged as I got to my feet, wiping dirt off my clothes.
“Even the greatest must fall at some point,” I said, sliding my sword back in its sheath.
He nodded. “I’ll see you around.”
“Maybe.” I pulled my cloak over my head as I met Jenna’s eyes. She knew I let her win, but then she turned, waving at the crowd as she was awarded her next opponen
t. One step closer to the prize.
When I got home, Isabel and Jax stood waiting for me. I groaned.
“I don’t want a lecture,” I told them, pressing my palms against my ears. A part of me thought they wouldn’t argue, that they knew what I did was my choice. But then Jax stomped his foot and let out a frustrated groan.
“Really?” he said in anger. “You! You could’ve beaten her! You’re so stupid! I can’t even believe you just let her win by tripping over yourself.”
I turned to Isabel with a pleading look in my eyes, begging her to understand, but she shook her head, shunning me.
“What a disappointment,” she sighed. “I wouldn’t have expected this from you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, staring the both of them down.
“This is my problem. And I didn’t even need the prize, anyway.”
“But we did!” Jax walked towards me. “We needed it. We were going to split it, idiot. Now we’re still poor because none of us have a chance to beat the greatest fighters in all of Crea.” He pointed to himself and Isabel.
“Speak for yourself,” his sister said, narrowing her icy blue eyes.
“Well . . .” I trailed off, trying to find the right words.
“You two are capable of great things. I’m sure you can win if you put your mind to it—”
Jax’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Put your mind . . . Put your. . .” he sputtered. Isabel slowly reached forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the room.
“Let me talk to him for a second,” she held up a finger as if telling me to wait. I nodded, taking a seat on the bed as I waited for them to talk it out. Moments later, the door opened but only Isabel stood behind it.
“Aella—Adalia,” she said, correcting herself for what seemed to be the hundredth time. I rubbed my eyes wearily, too tired to correct her.
I’d learned it the hard way; I’d always be Adalia, no matter how much I didn’t want to be.
“I’ve known you long enough to know you’re going through something right now. I don’t want to talk it out because I know you won’t want to discuss it. So, it’s alright if you let her win. I’ll talk to Jax.”
The Four Kingdoms Page 3