Amaskan's Blood

by Raven Oak

  “Who are you to tell the King what to do?” Margaret hissed.

  Adelei sat in the chair beside King Leon and ignored Margaret completely. “Have you told her nothing of the Amaskans?”

  “She knows enough to know who they are and what they do.”

  “But nothing of the code of honor they follow, nor the work they do to ensure the safety of kingdoms.”

  The bubbling laughter made Adelei grind her teeth as she promised not to slit the spoiled brat’s throat. Margaret’s foolish grin could have set the calmest Holy Woman on edge. “A bunch of murderous thugs having honor?”

  “Stop.” The sharp word from King Leon ceased all talk, and he wiped sweat from his flushed face.

  “If I’m to protect her, she must be able to follow any and all orders. If she’s unwilling or unable, it may cost more than her own life. I won’t walk into a suicide mission, no matter what Master Bredych promised you,” said Adelei.

  He nodded. “She will follow orders. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “But she wants to take my place in the wedding. My wedding. It’s the day of my dreams, and now you’re both saying I can’t even participate.” The unlit candle she threw came within a foot of hitting Adelei, who made no move to dodge it.

  “Poppet, I know this is a lot to take in, but Master Adelei’s here to protect you. I’ve appointed her your sepier.”

  “I don’t want a sepier.” Margaret wrapped her robe closer about her and stood with her fists on her hips.

  “I’m sorry, but you need one. I need her here to protect you.”

  “What happened to Captain Warhammer?”

  “She has been stripped of that rank.” When Margaret opened her mouth, he interrupted her. “I’m not going to discuss this with you, Margaret. You must follow whatever order Master Adelei gives as if it is my own—it’s for your safety.”

  “But—”

  “Someone is trying to kill you. Do you think I wish to see you dead, like your mother?” The words zapped the air in the room, and Margaret startled upright, her face flushed as if burned. “Adelei will serve as your body double during the ceremony at the cathedral, though you may endure the rituals beforehand yourself. Master Adelei will be present to guard you during those. You will do this, by my order if I must make it so. On my life, you will do this.” Hatred in Margaret’s gaze reminded Adelei of the “fit” she had heard through the door when she had arrived yesterday—a spoiled princess throwing a temper-tantrum because she’d never been told “No.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Margaret was no wildfire today—she channeled Adelei at her best, a slow-stirring beast whose spit flecked bits of flame in warning.

  This appeared to be nothing new as King Leon merely shrugged before standing to place a kiss on Margaret’s crown of black curls. “Today’s a busy day of meetings, and I have much to attend to. Mind Adelei and Nisha as they watch over you today, and I’ll see you at dinner.” As he left, Margaret made a face at his back and retrieved the candle from the floor.

  How am I going to survive these tantrums? Adelei sighed.

  “You sound like my father.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you sighed just now, you sounded like him. And you will address me as ‘Your Majesty.’”

  She couldn’t help the second sigh and tried to shift her mind elsewhere. Margaret moved like a fragile person—no defensive stance, no awareness of her body at all. When Margaret stood, her flimsy nightgown parted to display long, pale legs with muscles used to slight steps when walking the castle instead of fighting or horseback riding. Poor Hero. I bet she’s barely even ridden that poor pony. I doubt she can sit a horse, much less anything else.

  Small footsteps took the princess to a dressing shade where she rang a bell. Several handmaidens rushed into the room to dress Margaret. They removed and retrieved clothing with a speed that left Adelei dizzy. “Do you enjoy watching people dress?” Margaret said, her tone insinuating a certain impropriety in Adelei’s watchful stare. “I’ve heard there are people that enjoy such pursuits.”

  Adelei ignored the jibe for what it was, an attempt to chase off the new bodyguard. Many deft hands wove the laces of Margaret’s corset, and when she stepped out from behind the shade, her narrow waist had lost several inches in the process. The princess sat on a stool before a tall mirror. A few sapphires decorated the mirror’s crown, and when Adelei’s gaze traveled further down, she caught Margaret’s reflection staring back.

  Margaret’s handmaidens brushed her thick, black hair as they counted the strokes. When her comment garnered no response, Margaret tried again. “My hair is most beautiful, would you not agree, Master Adelei? Women covet it. Or maybe you’d rather speak of my body—the body of a princess. But I doubt you’d understand such feminine things.” Adelei counted under her breath as Margaret tried to puncture the hardened exterior of Adelei’s shell. “Do you even have breasts under there? Oh Gods, I never even thought to ask—you are female, right? I mean, I can’t have a man in my bedchambers, let alone in my wedding dress.”

  “Leave us,” Adelei said. All at once, four pair of feet withdrew with a scamper across the stone floor.

  “Wait. Where are you going?” Margaret cried, and when her handmaidens ignored her, she fell back onto her creaking stool.

  Another unlit candle flew toward Adelei, and she caught it one-handed. Adelei crossed the room in half a dozen steps and set the candle back in its place before turning to Margaret. I need to stop thinking of her as my sister. She knows nothing of who I am, and besides, anyone this spoiled could no more be related to me than the goat in the stables. Besides, I don’t remember her at all. Blood does not family make.

  She leaned over Margaret, whose back pressed into the dresser’s hard wood. “I made it very plain that my role in your wedding was to remain a secret, something you just revealed to your handmaidens.”

  “They’re nobility. And besides, I didn’t tell them what role. They won’t tell anyone—”

  “Listen you stupid twit, servants—even ennobled ones—are the biggest gossips in the Little Dozen. Anything you say to them will spread across the land like a plague. Not even five minutes in, and you’ve told them that I’ll have a role in the wedding. Do you want to die, you fool?”

  Margaret sputtered, but Adelei didn’t give her the chance to respond. She withdrew her dagger and held it against Margaret’s bosom with a grand smile. “Here—if you really wish to die, I can make it possible. Isn’t it what I’m best at? Murder? You said so yourself. So if you want to die, let’s make it fast. I have a home to return to.”

  Princess Margaret tried to wriggle away from Adelei, but weak arms did little to move Adelei’s strong frame. Movement brought the dagger closer, so Margaret grappled with Adelei instead. Her fingers fought to find purchase in the silk tunic. When she failed, she tried to claw the dagger from Adelei’s grasp.

  Margaret released Adelei’s hand. “So will you watch as my husband makes me a woman on my wedding night? Is that part of your duties, too? Or will you take my place in that role as well?”

  The dagger inched closer to Margaret’s throat as Adelei’s patience wavered. The only way Margaret would follow her is if Margaret understood the risk as well. “No, Your Highness, that will be one of the few times you’ll be alone with your husband in these chambers. I hope for your sake he is not the assassin, for if so, you’ll be dead before the sun rises. Or maybe that would be a blessing if he’s the monster people say he is.”

  She dropped the dagger in Margaret’s hands, which fell through the softened fingers and into her lap. The blade tore a small hole in the overskirt’s light layers. “Go ahead, princess. If you want me gone, save the assassin the trouble, and I’ll be gone by noon.”

  “I don’t want to die. Stop it.” Margaret cried. She stared at the dagger as if it were a large spider, and she squirmed in place. When her fingers dared touch it again, Margaret swept it from her lap with shaking fingers. “Please. Pl
ease, get it away.”

  Finally hearing the word she wished, Adelei returned her dagger to its place. Sweat glistened across Margaret’s brow, and when she tried to stand on shaky legs, she fell back against her stool.

  “That’s better. You and I have no reason to like each other, and that’s fine. I’m not here to be your best friend. I’m here to save your life. You will do as I say, or I will have you bound and gagged. Whether or not you enjoy this experience is no concern of mine. I’m paid either way.”

  Margaret frowned, her fingers clenching the laces of her corset. “You called him a monster.”

  “Did I ruin your precious image of him?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just… I’ve heard things. Never mind, you must be mistaken.” Margaret smoothed out her skirts and frowned at the tear. “You said you have a home to return to. I’ve never heard of an Amaskan having a home before, yet you speak as if you have family and friends.”

  “I do, Your Majesty. Hard as it may be for you to understand, I have a father, too, and friends who miss me very much. If I die defending you, it is an honorable death, but if I die because of you, because you fail to follow my orders, they will not be happy. A blood feud may be declared.” Her sister paled at this. So she was at least aware of blood feuds. Good.

  “So how does this work, then? You’re protecting me?”

  “Most of the time, I’ll follow you, watching and listening for signs that someone is planning to harm you. At large events, such as your wedding, I will play you. If someone were to attack you, they’d really be attacking me.”

  “Why can’t you just watch and listen at the wedding, and… and take them out if they attack? I don’t understand why my day has to be ruined.”

  It was a petulant sob that escaped pouting lips, which Adelei ignored, much to the princess’s frustration. Good lord, if that normally works on Father, no wonder she’s so spoiled. To her sister though, Adelei said, “Large events have more people. More chance of attack. If someone came at you, you wouldn’t have the first idea how to fight off an attacker, but I would. If they assault me, I can diffuse the situation quickly and safely.”

  “How do you know I couldn’t escape them? I’ve had some defense training—”

  Adelei’s eyes rested on the unused candle beside her, its wax long dried from burning last night. She snatched the candle from its holder and tossed it at her sister’s head before Margaret had finished her sentence. Startled, Margaret saw it only after it was airborne. Too late to do anything about it. The hardened wax bounced off the side of her head with a thud before dropping to the floor.

  “That’s going to bruise.”

  “If I’d wanted that to hurt, I would have thrown it harder, and trust me, it would have left a mark. And that was just a candle.” Her fingers deftly moved and before Margaret could blink, Adelei held one of her throwing knives. “Imagine if that candle had been this.” Sunlight bounced off the knife, and sparkles danced along the wall.

  Margaret swallowed hard.

  “It’s good though that you have had some training, Your Highness. Some training is better than no training, though I intend for you to have more instruction in self-defense as well. We’ll need to clear a few things from your day.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as possible.” Margaret’s mouth opened and closed when Adelei raised a brow. “Is that going to be a problem, Your Highness?”

  “No, Master Adelei. Only, please don’t schedule it this afternoon. If possible. Please?”

  Much better. Adelei nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Now, what’s on your schedule for the day?”

  Gods help me, it’s going to be a very long day indeed.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Adelei ignored the shocked glances that occasionally came her way from the embroidering ladies; idle chitchat passed their lips in the afternoon activity that was Princess Margaret’s indulgence. With so many highborn women arriving with their lords for the wedding, Margaret felt the ladies “needed time to chat.”

  Embroidery over tea left them the opportunity to catch up without the formalities of the royal court. Though I bet everything said here will reach other ears as soon as they leave this room. Adelei balled her hand into a fist and resisted the urge to scratch the itch under her head scarf.

  If they continue discussing the wonders of Prince Gamun, I may go mad from sheer boredom and assassinate myself. She leaned back against the wall where she sat on a cushion thrown in the corner. Adelei crinkled her nose at the smell of wet dog exuding from the cushion, which probably belonged to some royal mutt or another. Fitting that they left it for me, though it’s another reason they stare beneath their lashes when they think I’m not looking.

  Margaret thought it a joke when she offered Adelei the cushion or a seat in the circle. “I’ve even brought an embroidery square if you wish, Master Adelei.”

  One look at the women who treated gossip as the latest morsel at the dinner table, and Adelei chose the dog’s bed in the corner. I think I’d rather be dead than sit as a member of this circle. She rubbed a hand along her lower spine. While the cushion was comfortable enough for the hound, the lack of feather stuffing left her lean backside aching after an hour.

  Lady Millicent tore at a stitch in frustration and avoided looking at Margaret, who spoke of the prince in dulcet tones. She knows this marriage is a bad idea, yet she lies before my sister.

  Lady Angelina hung over the sides of her chair, her elbows bumping with the women on either side of her. She, too, focused her attention more on the stitching and less on the conversation. No one else appeared uncomfortable with the topic as the ladies laughed at Margaret’s “precious naivety.”

  “What other reason could there be for the existence of husbands than to care for and protect their loves?” Margaret asked. Her fake smile eroded only when she glanced at Adelei.

  And so it went for the next hour—Margaret gushed over her upcoming wedding, while Adelei fought to keep her legs from falling as asleep as her mind already was.

  Most of the high court ladies were Margaret’s age or older, though one duchess from the hill lands couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen. She sat in her chair as manners dictated, but every so often, her legs bounced as she peeked at Adelei. Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, the young woman interrupted Margaret. “Your Highness, I’m sorry for being blunt, but I noticed the visitor with us. Might we be introduced to this person? Her outfit bears such a foreign look that I find myself curious about its origin.”

  Several ladies gasped while others chuckled. Adelei bit off a laugh as her royal highness tried very hard not to murder her needlework. The veins on her face stood out as they throbbed in rhythm to her heartbeat, and Margaret said, “Master Adelei, Sepier of Alexander, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Master Adelei. Now, on the topic of Prince—”

  “It is unusual in this country for a woman to be employed as a sepier. Such a manly role—” the young woman said, and Lady Angelina elbowed her in the ribs. “What? Well, it is.”

  “Hush. Captain Warhammer served as sepier for a long while. Plenty of women take the role,” Lady Angelina said.

  She’s not afraid to speak her mind. I like this girl already. Maybe I can get some information out of her, with a flapping tongue like that.

  “If the King feels the need for an additional sepier, especially one who sits guard in a woman’s own bower, things must be grave indeed.” Lady Millicent sought out Adelei’s face. “Tell us more about why you are here.”

  Margaret’s lower lip jutted out as she jabbed her stitching needle into the fabric. Brown eyes glared at Adelei across the head of a dozen women. “Big weddings tend to bring large groups of guests. I’m here as a precaution and nothing more. Please, return to your sewing, ladies.”

  “There now, nothing to worry about. Let’s move on to brighter topics.” Margaret’s voice cracked, but she rattled on about topics of little importance. While the ladies re
turned to talk of the courts, Lady Millicent stopped sewing altogether. She stared outright at the two sisters, an odd expression across her face.

  She thinks she knows something. Damn. Adelei stilled her tapping foot. I can’t see how similar we’d look with the amount of makeup I’m wearing or our clothing differences. Where Margaret was soft and warm, rouge scattered across her high cheek bones and light purples painted on her eyelids, Adelei’s face resembled stone: hard and unyielding with taupes and dark sages lining her lids and lips, leaving her cheek bones blunt and bare. The stark contrast of the coal lining the edges of her eyes darkened the brown of her irises until they resembled black holes rather than mud.

  Not even my posture is gentle like Margaret’s. I’m sitting on a smelly cushion on the balls of my feet in the corner of the room. And yet Lady Millicent’s convinced there’s something to see.

  The women paused briefly as a servant entered bearing a tray laden with fruit and light wine. Adelei took the opportunity to stand in a slow, full-bodied stretch, after which she stepped outside to watch the change of guards.

  Difficult enough to protect Margaret from an unknown assailant, but more difficult still to find out who he or she was when Adelei was busy playing nursemaid. There was movement behind her, but she ignored it. The footfalls weren’t hidden, only soft; she figured it for the servant and tensed when a hand touched her elbow.

  “Master Adelei…” said Lady Millicent and the partially withdrawn blade returned to Adelei’s sleeve. “Master Adelei, I must speak to you immediately. The marriage must not happen—”

  “Not here,” Adelei interrupted. With a finger flick, she called several guards over to the bower doors. “I need to escort Lady Millicent to her rooms. No one is to enter or exit the bower until I return, is that understood?”

  “Yes, Master Adelei.”

  “This way, my lady.”

  Lady Millicent followed Adelei into a tiny, rarely used room Adelei had discovered in her sojourn through the castle. Probably once used as a closet, it now held extra pieces of furniture and random bits of household goods. The lady paused upon entering the room, then uprighted an overturned chair and settled into it as if it were completely normal for someone of her station to be consorting with an Amaskan in a closet. “I’m sorry for the necessity of meeting here, but there are too many ears in this castle.”