by Raven Oak
Ida nodded. “I expected as much. Will ya give it to her instead?”
“No. I can’t trust her either.” King Leon removed the silver circlet from his brow and stared at the thirteen amethysts as they pulsed in the sunlight streaming through the window. He felt the circlet’s weight like he carried his horse across his brow, and for a moment, he resisted the urge to dash the object upon the stones outside. Instead of chucking it out the window, he set it aside and massaged his temples which pulsed with the beginnings of a headache. “I’ll make her Margaret’s sepier for the time being. Maybe the ranking will help her finish the job, so she can return home.”
“Give it time, Leon. Give her time.”
Time was one thing he did not have. Leon cupped his head in his hands. “The blood on her hands must not touch Margaret. We need the treaty that this marriage will bring. Iliana’s identity must remain a secret, even from my advisors.”
“Do ya doubt her ability?”
“Not at all. That’s the problem. I want my little girl back,” the father said. “I miss the little girl I sent away and grieve the loss of her all over again. This person who has returned is hardened and angry. I worry how much of this anger is directed at me. Did I make the correct choice in having you bring her back?”
“Only you can know that answer, Your Majesty, but I’ll say who better to protect Margaret than her own sister?”
“Iliana doesn’t look upon Margaret as a sister. When we spoke upon her arrival, she acted as if Margaret’s a piece of cattle she’s protecting. It’s unnerving, the detachment.”
“It’s necessary, Your Highness. Emotions are a weakness on the job.”
“And you would know?” He internally cursed the grin he felt grace his lips. Ida rested a hand on Leon’s shoulder, her fingers tracing circles across his tunic. It was a gesture he’d missed of late. She betrayed you, his mind spoke, and he argued back. Yes, she did.
“Adelei will protect Margaret, no matter her personal feelings.”
He sought out Ida’s face and saw a tiredness living there that was new. Neither of us is getting younger. I wonder which of us will go first? With this poison in me, I figured it would be me first to die. Leon knew well the scars that decorated her body, but there were new ones along her face that reminded him of the dangers of being sepier.
A position I’m giving to Iliana.
He ran a wrinkled finger across the light welt above her brow. “Who has been using you as target practice, hmmm?” It was a touch driven by instinct, and he pulled away as if burned.
“Tribor.”
Fear washed over him, then anger as images crossed by—the women he loved in this life fleeing and having fled such monsters. His fingers sought her wrist and tightened their grip. “Were you followed?”
“No, Your Majesty. Your talented daughter made very sure of that.”
The statement did not relieve him. If the Tribor were involved, maybe there was more to the rumors about Prince Gamun of Shad than he had originally given credit. Maybe this wedding was the disaster he had worried it was.
Ida interrupted his thoughts, her smile as fake as his own. “This wedding should be a joyful occasion—the joinin’ of two families. If it is advice ya seek, I would tell ya to forget all else for the time and allow Master Adelei to do her job. Enjoy the time with your daughter.”
Of course, if you’re betraying me still, you would say that. You would want this wedding to proceed. But her smile hung crooked, and her muscles tensed beside him. She wanted this no more than he did.
She left him alone in the room, alone to press the circlet back into place, its weight none the lighter. He stood then, shoulders back as he pushed his personal feeling aside. Today he must be king as he met with his advisors. He must be king first, and father second, if only for a brief time. Then he could enjoy time with his daughter, as Ida had recommended.
It was then that he realized she hadn’t said which daughter.
The serving girl who entered screamed as her foot connected with Adelei’s bed in the dim light that streamed in from the hallway. Furniture in the wrong location and a glint of steel sent her voice higher. The young girl’s dark outline was all Adelei could see in the darkness.
The girl’s hunched shoulders spoke her fear, and Adelei relaxed. An assassin wouldn’t be afraid and certainly wouldn’t trip over her bed. Adelei slid the dagger beneath her pillow. The servant’s eyes caught the blade as it moved, and she stumbled over something else as she backed out of the room.
Adelei groaned as she fell back against the bed’s mattress. Two guards dashed into her room with swords drawn. “Are you all right, Master? We heard a scream.”
“That would be the serving girl,” she muttered, her arm thrown over her eyes to block out the light. She listened to their footfalls withdraw and the door close behind them. Only after they retreated did she allow herself to fall asleep.
The next knock on her door arrived after Adelei had dressed, her clothes a mix of swordsman gear as she donned black leggings and a deep blue tunic. Instead of a hood, she wore a scarf wrapped around her head. While the look was Sadain, it didn’t scream Amaskan or so she hoped. At least these were styled after the Amaskan fighting gear. Just to be sure, she moved both arms and legs to test the outfit’s stretch and flexibility. It’ll do.
When the next servant entered, it wasn’t the frightened girl but a woman more than three times Adelei’s age. The woman braced thick feet in the door frame as she frowned at Adelei’s rearrangement of the furniture. I guess they decided to send me someone’s grandmother in hopes I wouldn’t kill her on sight.
“Name’s Charleena, master. I’m to see to your needs today.”
The servant’s lips pressed together in thin, grey lines as she eyed Adelei’s attire. “I’ll be needing a new chair.” Adelei pointed at the crippled chair in the corner.
While Charleena nodded, her lips remained pursed. “Anything else?”
“There are a bunch of knickknacks in the trunk here. See to it they’re removed.”
“As you will, master.”
Adelei thought back a moment to her walk of the castle grounds the night before. “Has His Majesty spoken to the staff about watching the guests?”
“Yes, master. We’re to keep our eyes and ears open for anything suspicious.” The old woman leaned close to Adelei as she waited.
Curiosity killed the serving girl, or it will if she continues to stand in my personal space. Adelei hid the smirk behind her hand. “I assume the wedding dress is already made?”
“Well,” Charleena played with the edge of her apron. “It keeps going back for adjustments. The Princess doesn’t eat much these days.”
“Is she ill?”
“Oh no. Just nerves, master.”
Great, that’s going to make it even harder for me to fit into her dress. Hopefully she’s not lost too much weight. “How would you describe Her Highness’s frame?”
“Master?”
“Her build. Is she fat? Thin? Tall?”
“Oh. She’s a bit smaller than you, master. Less… broad in the shoulder, bit thinner in the thigh. But she’s about the same height.”
Adelei released the breath she was holding. “I need someone to take my measurements and have the dress adjusted to fit them. Can you arrange this?”
“I don’t understand—”
“Can you arrange this?” Adelei repeated. When the woman nodded, Adelei continued, “Tell no one of this. Understand? Her Majesty’s life may depend on it.”
The woman drew a fluttering hand to her chest. “Truly? Is that why we’re to watch people come and go?”
“I can’t answer that, only His Majesty can, but I speak the truth when I say that you can’t tell anyone, no matter how much you think you can trust them. This stays between us.”
“Yes, master.” The servant gave Adelei a hesitant smile. “Is there anything else I can help you with, master? Breakfast can be brought to your room, or somethi
ng else if you have need of it?”
“What is Her Highness’s schedule today?” The serving woman rattled off a long litany of wedding plans, meetings in the audience chamber, and afternoon tea in her bower with noble ladies. The list continued, and before Adelei could pull her teeth out in frustration, she held up a hand to stop the breathless expression. “I understand. She has a busy schedule then. Are her days normally this busy?”
“Yes, master.”
Adelei took a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. I’m going to regret this. To the servant, she said, “I need to speak with the Her Highness as soon as possible.”
“I’m afraid Her Highness is still asleep. She likes a good lay in and won’t be rising for another hour. And after that, she has an appointment with the Duke of—”
“Yes, yes, I know. Busy day. But I must insist. Wake her up now if necessary.”
The servant shook her head. “I’m sorry, master, but Her Highness left strict orders not to be disturbed.”
And she outranks me, at least to you she does. Adelei strode past the woman and into the hallway. The door itself was locked, and she ordered the guard outside to open it.
“Master, I can’t. It’s the royal bedchambers.”
“I don’t care if it’s the royal bedpan. His Majesty left orders for you to follow any and all commands I give, and I said open the door.”
The guard nodded and knocked. When the knocks went unanswered, he tried the doorknob. Three shakes and the door remained closed. “I’m sorry, master, I don’t have the key, and the door won’t open.”
“What would you do if it was an emergency?”
“Master, we’d knock the door down. Is this an emergency? Should I get Captain Fenton?”
Captain who? Must be head of the guards. Adelei shook her head. “I’ll take care of it. Step back.” With the roll of her palm, Adelei pulled a small metal rod from a hidden pocket in her sleeves. The lion’s mouth served as the keyhole, and she rolled her eyes. Not exactly the best disguise for a keyhole.
Careful fingers threaded the rod toward the roof of the lion’s mouth until she felt the spring. The metal rod bore narrow notches across the top and when pressed upward, the spring compressed until a light clicking sound announced the unlocking of the door. Behind her, Charleena gasped, and the door swung open to reveal a room more purple than anyone had a right to enjoy.
Adelei shut the door behind her and glanced around the giant room. Amidst a sea of lilac and royal blues, her sister slept in tangled covers. Her pale, smooth legs stuck out from beneath the mass, one hanging over the bed’s edge. Adelei didn’t recognize the room but figured its decor had changed in the fifteen years she’d been absent from the kingdom. Changed as much as her own room in Sadai over the years, if not more so considering the money at the kingdom’s disposal.
The face before her was like her own, so much so that Adelei’s outstretched hand shook as it halted over her sister. Margaret truly looked like her twin. And my brain remembers her not. A slight pang caught her off guard, and Adelei ached to touch her sister’s face to see if her eyes were the same brown as Adelei’s own.
Would Margaret know her? Would she scream to see her own face before her? Even bald, the two women would look similar enough to pass for one another. By the look on Charleena’s face, she had maybe four minutes before the King himself arrived. Maybe less. Do I tell her who I am? Or will that only make guarding her more difficult? On the one hand, Margaret’s knowing might make it easier to accept Adelei’s orders, but knowing would paint a bull’s-eye on her back. A target for every enemy Adelei or the Order had.
Margaret shifted in her sleep, the innocence on her face giving her the blessing of youth, whereas Adelei’s face bore scars and lines from a life of hardship and violence. Maybe not yet. This is going to be hard enough for her as it is to accept.
Adelei gave Margaret’s shoulder a brief shake. Her mouth flew open, and Adelei clamped a hand over it. Breath warmed her fingers as Margaret tried to both exhale and scream through the hand. “If I remove my hand, will you remain quiet, Your Highness? Your father sent for me. Take a good look at me,” she said. Margaret’s gaze landed on the dagger at Adelei’s side.
Margaret nodded, and Adelei loosened her hand. “Why has my father sent for you? And who are you to be in my bedchambers?”
“My name is Master Adelei of Sadai, formerly of the Order of Amaska.” A blank stare met Adelei’s words. Then Margaret’s eyes flitted to the bolted door of her bedchamber, and she sucked in a deep breath to scream. Adelei clamped a hand over her mouth again. “Do your people not talk of the Amaskans here? Great Gods, if I wanted you dead, you’d already be so; now hush, we don’t have long.”
“You are… an assassin?”
“Amaskan,” Adelei corrected. “Your father sent for me to protect you.”
“You’re here to kill me.” Margaret tried to move too quickly and slipped. When her hands grabbed for the bed curtains, several boxes and glass figurines tumbled to the floor.
I don’t have time for this. Adelei seized hold of her sister by her shoulders and leaned close to her ear. “Look, I’m not here to kill you, you ninny. The King brought me here to protect you as your body double.”
Margaret’s breathing stilled for a moment, her round eyes reminding Adelei of a tempest, a dark black whirlpool amidst a sea of brown. “Truly?” Color returned to Margaret’s face with a flash of pink.
Wow. She goes to trusting that fast? We’re definitely going to have to work on that. Still gripping her sister by the arms, Adelei braced herself for the protest to come and spoke again, a hushed whisper amongst the footfalls outside the bedchamber door. “There’s a real threat on your life—an attempt has already been made. It’s because of this that I’m here.”
“Surely not. No one would be so foolish as to attack me. With Father—”
“Can you recall when you met Prince Gamun of Shad?”
At just the mere mention of this name, Margaret flushed bright red and her lips parted in a sleepy smile. “Of course, his hair—”
“Please spare me his accolades. Do you remember how quickly you were forced from the drawing room?”
Her sister’s smile faltered, and her brows furrowed in exactly the same layout of lines that spread across Adelei’s own face when worried. “Y-yes, but they said the Prince took ill suddenly and—” She stopped and stared at Adelei. “Oh. That was why they hurried me away?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Your father brought me here because I’m the best. I can protect you like no other.”
“As my body double.” She stumbled over the words and paused as her gaze traveled across Adelei’s face. “How could you resemble me so? You have rougher skin and scars, but your similarity is bewitching.”
A pounding on the door caused them both to flinch. “Listen,” said Adelei, “My looks aren’t important. Right now, I must tell you something. Something no one else can know, not even your father. Your life may depend on it.” Guards attempted to knock down the solid wood door and failed. The thud shook Adelei’s teeth.
“I must take your place in the wedding.”
“No.” Quiet words whispered between something hard dashing against the door. Margaret crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at Adelei.
“I’m taking your place in the wedding, Your Highness. You’ll be present, but hidden. This is not optional, and if necessary, I’ll make it a royal order.”
Margaret’s quivering bottom lip stuck out. “You can’t make it a royal order. You’re not royalty. You’re nothing more than a dirty assassin, a murderer. I should call for the Boahim Senate right now.”
Don’t think about it. Deal with the job. Something slammed into the door again, and she withdrew her dagger. “It will happen, with or without your help, Your Highness. If you want to live, you’ll keep this knowledge secret.”
It’s probably the guards, if not His Majesty. Probably summoned by the servant. But j
ust in case, I can’t take a chance that it’s the Tribor. Adelei held her dagger as she unlocked the door. As the knob turned, she put her back to the wall and waited.
Three men wearing royal guard uniforms rushed in, their own swords drawn. As one of them passed, Adelei tripped him and used the distraction to grab the second one from behind. She twisted his arm behind his back, and the third man skidded to a halt.
King Leon followed, his feet still bare and hair damp. Behind him, Charleena poked her head around his arm. Adelei kept her dagger available, but bit back laughter as her father slid a small kitchen knife in his robe. “Put up your weapons,” King Leon ordered everyone.
The guards listened. Adelei didn’t.
She released the guard, but positioned herself between the group and Margaret. “Captain Michael Fenton, this is Master Adelei of Sadai, and sepier to Princess Margaret,” King Leon said to the tallest of the three guards. The man’s blue uniform bore not only the royal insignia but also the trio of swords, showing him as the Captain of the Guard.
Captain Fenton bowed. “My apologies, Master Adelei. This woman swore there was an enemy to the crown present.” Fenton nodded toward Charleena, who bowed deeply and fled.
King Leon frowned at the dagger still in Adelei’s hands. “It was a misunderstanding, I’m sure. Captain, if you would make sure that all of your men know of Master Adelei’s new rank so that this doesn’t happen again. I was in the middle of a bath.”
“Yes, Sire.”
“Master Adelei, I am not the enemy,” said the King.
“Everyone is a possible enemy, Your Majesty. Until I know who is a danger, that includes kings.” She ignored Margaret’s gasp behind her and sheathed her dagger. “I apologize for that show of force, but it’s necessary to prove the point. I owe my allegiance to Princess Margaret and the protection of her life.”
“Leave us,” the King ordered, and Margaret sniffed loudly. When only the three of them remained in the room, Adelei gestured for the King to sit without thinking much of the action. Yet King Leon raised an eyebrow at the role reversal.