“Quiet!”
Norman hiccupped, swallowing his sobs.
“You’d better start by telling me everything from the beginning,” said the Old Girl. “And if you lie, I will know.”
“Well, it was like this. The woman, the one with the scar, she came up to me one night at the Pickled Heron, and she asked if I wanted to make some extra money and —”
“You were paid to help assassinate me?”
“No, no, no,” cried Norman, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that. She said it was a joke, she wanted to play a prank on one of the performers. Just a harmless bit of fun, she said. All I had to do was tie something she would give me to the top of the mast.”
“And you believed her?”
“I was pretty drunk, and…”
“Marchioness, can I please intervene,” said Cruikshank. “The boy is clearly an idiot. But despite his stupidity, I know he wouldn’t have meant any harm. His mother is one of my closest friends, I have known him since he was a baby. He’s a good lad, very proud of the Damsian independence, and his heart’s in the right place.” She swallowed. “Please be lenient.”
The Marchioness lifted a hand. “I’m not in the habit of executing teenagers, nor is stupidity a capital crime.”
Norman mumbled something about eternal gratitude, sniffling loudly.
“That said,” continued the Marchioness, “he will need to answer for what he did, but I haven’t decided on a suitable punishment yet. Have someone fetch his mother,” she ordered one of the guards. “Have them wait for my decision.”
The guard nodded and picked Norman up from the ground, taking him back out.
“The gods damn the Emperor,” said the Marchioness, slamming a fist against her desk. “He is even exploiting weakness in Damsian teenagers!” She rubbed her forehead. “Well, this brings me quite neatly to what I have planned for you both.” She turned back to Rory and Longinus. “I have never before resorted to underhand tactics like spying. I like to look people square in the face when I take them on, but I’ve come to realise that isn’t the way to deal with Airnia.” A brief smirk flitted across Lady Martha’s face, and Rory wondered how much of a hand she had had in that realisation. “You will both be the first of my spies; you will be my eyes and ears on the ground. You will sniff out any future attempts by this Myran and by the Emperor. If I need something done discreetly, you will do it.”
“Hang on,” protested Rory, “we ain’t spies, we’re assassins. We should be getting some reward for saving you and Lady Martha, not getting punished.”
“Your reward is not being sentenced to the galleys for the people you have killed.”
“Well, hang on a moment then, ’cause I only killed one.”
“That’s one too many. This isn’t up for debate, Rory. Cruikshank will be your handler as well as your supervisor, and you’ll be based in her workshop.”
Cruikshank stepped forward at that. “What? That’s not —”
“Your punishment for knowingly harbouring criminals, Eleanore. Don’t think I forget anything.”
“But I have my own work as a machinist to get on with.”
“Yes, and most of the time you won’t be interrupted. Your workshop is large enough to accommodate two more people. You can always set them to work when I don’t have need of them.”
“Now wait,” said Rory, before Longinus could speak up. She could see that his impassive expression was in danger of cracking. “We’re assassins. We can spy, but we ain’t doing no manual labour. Our hands gotta stay delicate on account of all the poisons we use, right.”
“Does the Viper ever speak?” asked Lady Martha.
“Only in case of dire need,” replied Rory. “Death should always be silent.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Longinus’ face twitch, and she felt pretty sure that was a good line. She wondered whether he would write it down later.
“One of my Varanguards will be in plain clothes going forward,” continued the Old Girl, “and he will relay any of my instructions. He is outside, and will escort you back to the workshop.”
The Marchioness stood up, to signify the end of the meeting.
“What if we refuse?” said Rory stubbornly.
“You know how persuasive I can be,” replied the Marchioness. “But I’d hope it won’t come to that.”
“No, it won’t,” said Longinus. Everybody looked at him in surprise. Rory wasn’t sure if it was her imagination, but his voice sounded lower than normal.
He sketched a small bow and turned on his heels, making for the door. He clicked his fingers at Rory, who glowered at his back, but couldn’t do much other than follow him.
When she stepped out of the Old Girl’s office and saw Rafe waiting there in plain clothes, she groaned inwardly and hurried after Longinus. She was relieved when Rafe fell into step with Cruikshank, leaving her and Longinus alone.
“I never thanked you for saving me, by the way,” she said to Longinus. She had meant to thank him earlier, but there had never been a right time. She kept her gaze carefully focused on the ground; it was an odd feeling to know she owed her life to someone other than herself.
“Say nothing of it.”
“No, I want to. Thank you. Really. For both times.”
“Yes, yes, no need to get emotional.” Longinus cleared his throat. “I saved your life because I shall be in need of an assistant and despite being a disaster, you do come in handy from time to time.”
Rory raised an eyebrow. “From time to time? Anyway, I ain’t your assistant, I’m the one who blackmailed you, so that makes me the one in charge. You can be my sidekick.”
“Sidekick? You are joking. The Viper is nobody’s sidekick. Anyway, if you were to stop being my assistant then my promise not to kill you is no longer valid.”
Rory stopped in her tracks. “What?”
“Well, I mean, if you’re not my assistant, what’s to stop me from killing you?”
“You mean to tell me you’re blackmailing me into being your assistant?”
“I guess so.” Longinus smiled, and Rory wasn’t sure whether to laugh or shout at him.
Note to the Reader
Thank you for reading! I hope you had as much fun with Rory and Longinus as I did writing them. To find out what happens next, you can sign up at http://celinejeanjean.com/NewReleasesList to be notified as soon as The Black Orchid comes out.
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Celine
Acknowledgements
There are many people who helped me in the journey that was writing this novel. Rebecca England, thank you for being my biggest cheerleader as well as one of my first readers. Silvia Park, Chris Weixelman, Nicole Brighton and Liz Hunter, your feedback was invaluable in making the book what it is now. Huge thanks to Jess Mersky, the best mentor a writer could hope for. Thanks also to my wonderful cover designer Ravven.
But most of all, thanks to my amazing husband without whom I wouldn’t be able to dedicate as much time as I do to writing.
m.Net
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