“Daryl, please!”
Before a guard could punch Parker again, Daryl pushed the blade through his chest. Time felt like it slowed. Serena felt her heart drop at the sight. Daryl held the blade in two hands as he punctured his lover’s chest. The bloody blade protruded from Parker’s back as blood dripped off the tip towards the ground. Parker’s face was frozen in shock as he stared up at Daryl. A little gasp escaped his mouth as the blade sunk in deeper. Tears streamed down his face.
A chill ran down Serena’s spine. Death was here.
Daryl pulled the blade free, kicking Parker back. The move was devoid of emotion. She looked at his face, searching for the terror to be mirrored. It remained statuesque without a sign of what she knew he’d feel later.
Parker’s body fell as he coughed. Blood filled his mouth, escaping with his coughs.
“Daryl,” he said. His voice more of a croak. Daryl turned back, his eyes flashing with pain.
“Finish it,” the King said. Daryl’s rigid muscles moved as he pushed the blade through Parker’s throat. Daryl watched as life left Parker. The light in his eyes was gone. Parker’s head fell to the side, frozen in shock.
Again, Daryl pulled the blade free, blood dripping onto the floor. He turned to his father and offered him the blade.
The King snatched it and wiped it against Daryl’s arm to clean it. The blood-stained Daryl’s body as he stood still. He seemed unaffected by it. The King turned the blade over, inspecting it before sheathing it. He then grabbed Daryl by the throat. Serena nearly bolted to stop it. What more could the King possibly do to him?
“The next time I hear word that you are fucking a man, I promise you.” He said tightening his grip, his fingers cutting into Daryl’s chin. “I will kill the Captain and anyone else you care about. You will act like my son and the future King of Templaria if it kills you.”
The King released him and kicked him hard in the stomach, throwing Daryl into the side of the couch before leaving. Guards picked up the body of Parker dragging him out, leaving a trail of blood behind. The doors slammed shut behind the guards. The sound seemed to wake Daryl from his state.
He slowly sat up, his emotions rising to the surface. He looked at the blood as tears streamed down his face. Silent sobs rocked him. He covered his mouth, muffling the cries as they grew harder.
Serena gritted her teeth. A part of her wanted to help him, but what comfort was an assassin? They tried to train emotions away. Maybe the Captain could be helpful.
Serena released the breath stuck in her throat. Her anger heated her blood, warning her of an explosion. She shoved it all down. The sight of the bright and cheerful Prince who danced with her at the ball, in a crumpled ball, destroyed by the King angered her. Words no longer expressed it.
Fuck Gwayne. If another opportunity presented itself, she’d kill the King with her bare hands. She moved through the halls back to her room. She changed into her nightgown and put on a robe.
Someone needed to help Daryl. She walked to the doors of her room and opened them. The guards turned to her, blades drawn.
“Easy. I need you to tell the Captain to check on the Prince.” The guards stared at her.
“Just do as I ask.” She shut the door and returned to her bed.
◆◆◆
Chapter Ten
Bang!
Doors slammed open, abruptly waking Serena. After the events, she witnessed the night before she jumped out of bed and grabbed the nearby washbasin.
“Where is she?” The Captain’s voice boomed in the apartment. Serena could hear his heavy steps grow closer to the bedroom doors.
“Captain!” Mary yelled.
The doors to her bedroom opened, and she stood holding the bowl at the ready. The Captain stood in the doorway glaring at her with a crimson-colored face.
“How did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Did you kill them?” Who?
“I’ve killed no one!” Disappointment hung in her chest at the truth of her words.
“I’ve had enough problems the last few days without you creating more! Tell me the truth!”
“I already did!”
He took heavy breaths, the look on his face unnerving her. She saw that look many times before. Cold eyes that tried to pierce through her, the dark shadow of a judgment passed, and the need for punishment. Her stomach turned, warning her he no longer saw her as a person. No. She stood only as an assassin. A shade of the darkness he sought to destroy.
Let him try. She thought, pushing aside the pain from his lack of trust.
“Captain, she was here all day with me,” Mary said, with a smile to Serena.
“All night? Did you even take the maid costume from her?” he snapped at Mary. “Were you snooping last night?”
“It doesn’t matter what I tell you. You won’t believe a word.”
“I’ll believe the truth!”
“No, you won’t! You’ll only believe what you think happened. Whenever the guard went missing and was found dead doesn’t matter. You could’ve watched me yourself and still think it was me. Not everyone who dies in this castle dies because of an assassin. You have plenty of other horrible people here.”
He stared at her, his anger palpable but still, he stood silent. Several moments passed.
“He was your guard.”
“I was poisoned a few days ago. If I was to kill someone I’d start, there.”
“You’ve been out snooping, haven’t you? You’re why the guards told me to check on the Prince.”
“I have not been out killing.” He stepped closer, and she held the bowl up higher in warning. “You can stay where you are Captain.”
He froze and looked at her again. Taking in her clothes. Her form holding the bowl. A curse left his lips as he looked away.
“Get changed. We’ll discuss over breakfast,” he sighed. Mary snorted and shoved him out of the room to tend to Serena.
“The man acts like a child sometimes.” Mary scolded. She went to the wardrobe and pulled out a simple dress with lacework instead of a heavily bejeweled bodice.
“You can put down the bowl,” Mary said. Slowly Serena sat it down, still feeling the adrenaline pumping in her system.
No words came out at first. Mary’s hands rushed her to dress, but her mind swirled at the sight of the Captain. She wanted to trust him, but after that… there could never be trust. An assassin trusted no one. She already made that mistake once. Her heart pulsated with a moment of pain before she shoved it down, hard.
Dressed, she walked out to the table where food sat. She refused to look up at the Captain who pushed the food on his plate around. He took a deep breath before daring to look at her. She ignored him, eating, feeling better with a fork in her hand. A much better weapon than a bowl.
“I…” the Captain started.
“The food is great this morning, Mary,” Serena said. Mary smiled.
“I’m glad you like it. Made it myself.” Mary returned, straightening up the room.
“I’m sorry.” The Captain finally managed. Serena stared at him, a dark chuckle escaping her lips.
“Sorry?” She huffed, looking away from him. “You can be sorry all you want. It doesn’t change the fact you woke me up and accused me without proof of anything. Gods, I even helped you and your Prince.”
“My job-”
“I have a job too and I’m not accusing-”
“You accused Georgina-”
“I at least had some measure of proof.”
He pulled out a maid’s headscarf.
“This was found near the body.” He said. “His family deserves closure and justice.”
“No one gets that in this world. Acreans lost more than their family and got neither. Why do you think he deserves it more than anyone else?” She shoved a forkful of food in her mouth.
“I’m not saying that. Everyone deserves closure and justice.”
She snuck a look at him, seeing his contorted featur
es mixed in pain and sorrow.
“Even the savages?”
“Don’t say that.” He said. “No one is a savage except for maybe the King. Acreans deserve it too. I’m just not the one who helps you get it. My life depends on me protecting the royals.”
“Be faster to just kill the King,”
“Don’t,” he warned. “That’s treason.”
“I’m not wrong.”
“It’s not as easy as you make it sound. There’s the nobles who support him, the council, the General… it’s more than killing a man.”
“That’s not mine, by the way. Mine is in the wardrobe. I only wear it as a cover, but most maids will not wear one, since they’re Acreans, and covering our hair like that is putting a barrier between us and the Gods. Even if we don’t worship, it’s like a wives’ tale. You’re most likely looking for someone who didn’t look enough of a maid without one or someone who wanted to put doubt into your mind about me.”
The Captain took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry for my rash judgment. I know better.”
“It’s fine. I’m used to judgment.” She said finishing her plate and getting up. He grabbed her hand.
“Serena,” he started gently looking up at her. She could see more than an apology in his eyes. He wanted to take away part of her darkness that his actions brought to the surface. She pulled her hand free.
“You should find out who knew about me having a maid’s costume. That’s not common knowledge.” Serena said. He got up with a sigh.
“I appreciate your candor.” He said before turning to the door. She watched him leave and turned back to the room. Perhaps she could get a chance to train more. Before she could settle on an idea, the doors to the apartment opened again. This time Daryl stood in the doorway. The crumbled form of the man from the night before was gone. He smiled brightly at her. His hair slicked back and his jacket and trousers matching the appearance of a royal.
“Good morning, Serena!” he chimed.
“Daryl, what are you doing here?”
“Is it wrong for me to want to spend time with a friend?”
“The last time I was seen with you, someone tried to poison me.”
His face dropped, his smile disappearing for a moment. He took a breath, quickly recovering.
“I’m sorry about that. The women get a tad crazy.” He looked over the room. “It seems Mary has you set up well.”
“Drop the facade why are you here?”
“Wesley mentioned you wanted a book. I figured I could help since I have access to the library and he doesn’t.”
“I owe him a letter in return.” She sighed, walking over to the paper and ink on her vanity. Quickly she rushed an apology letter and blew on it to dry the ink. She folded it up and Mary took it.
“I’ll seal it and make sure the Captain gets it.” Mary offered.
“Thank you,”
“Good then let’s go,” Daryl said, holding out his arm. Serena took it, excited to be leaving the room.
He fell silent in the halls, leading her with quick purposeful steps until he reached a set of large oak and golden doors. Two guards stood on either side with pikes crossed in front, barring entrance. Upon seeing Daryl, they both stood upright and moved their pikes away.
“Here is the library,” he said, releasing her arm to push open the doors. She walked inside the library, marveling at the rows and rows of books. Massive twenty-foot ceilings were covered from floor to ceiling in books with a balcony full of even more books. Ladders rolled on tracks around the bookshelves. Several tables and comfortable sitting areas littered the ground before a gigantic fireplace took form on the far wall.
“It’s amazing isn’t it.” He said with a smile. “The King luckily didn’t destroy the collection that was here prior but only added to it. The General was adamant that it be preserved and used against the natives. The book you wanted should be here.”
She walked farther into the room, a feeling of longing filling her chest. How much of her culture was written in these pages? How much of who they had been could be rediscovered? She thought it was all lost. All that was left were the oral stories told by elders in town. She knew well, some of those tales were embellished, or the details lost. Now she could read the originals. The history of a thousand-year rule. The great Acreage line that defended its borders for so many years. The Acreage that kept the Templarians out. The land where magic was free. She could only imagine what a childhood full of magic would have been like. How much her life would have been different if she had been born in another time. How she wished to know the truth of how Templaria managed to conquer Acreage. Were there problems within the Royal family that made them weak? Did the Gods really abandon Acreage as some suggested?
She walked closer to the nearby bookcases, curious what truths they could tell her and noticed the titles were in Acrean and not Templarian. She felt tears rise to her eyes at that. It was her language. Her people’s history.
The Prince held out a handkerchief to her.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the actions of my father. We never should have come here. Your land did not need civilizing.”
“When you take over, you have to fix this.” She said turning back to the books. He put his handkerchief away, listening. “Your father stole our land, our culture, our history from us for what? To steal resources? To destroy magic? These books hold the answers to who we are. Anyone of Acreage descent should be able to read these.”
“I promise,” he said with a small smile. “I don’t think I can ever fix what my family has done, but I can try.”
She smiled back and nodded.
“It’s a start,” She returned to the books wondering what secrets they held. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Daryl’s face drop again. She turned to him.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said softly. His face lost all the chipper emotion as he stared at her.
“What? How?” Fear rose on his face.
“Easy. I was snooping.”
“Serena, that’ll get you killed!”
“I’m not dead, though, am I?”
“Why… what…” Shame filled his face as he looked at the ground, tears rising in the corners of his eyes. She could feel his emotions as if they were hers. Too many times she experienced the need for survival outweigh her heart until she learned to shut it off.
He took a shaky breath, trying to steady himself. Serena took his hand in hers and squeezed.
“You shouldn’t have to do things like that.”
He pulled away. “I need to sit,” he said, his voice still full of emotion. Quickly finding a seat, Serena followed him over.
“I don’t know how any of you do it. Kill people… it makes me sick!”
Serena sighed, wishing she had an answer. Some way to tell him how to shut it off. How to not feel the taint of such actions.
“We live in a world where we do the unthinkable to survive.” She said finally breaking the silence. Daryl took another deep breath, getting back in control of his emotions.
“You were looking for a book.” He said again pulling himself to his feet. He walked down a few aisles looking around at the various books. He pulled off a book with black binding and dusted off the title. “Legends of Acreage, right?”
She took the book from him, looking back into his eyes. The blue orbs still swam with things he did not want to talk about.
“Yes,” she said simply. She looked down at the book and noticed the frayed edges of the pages. She opened the book, the smell of dust rising. Turning the yellowing pages, she noticed notes written in the margins. Symbols. Not just any symbols. Magika.
“What language is that?” Daryl pointed to the symbols.
“I don’t know,” she lied. “Could I take this to my room to read later?”
“Of course. I would just caution you to keep it hidden. If people heard I let you borrow a book of Acreage, there might be more problems. Otherwise please feel free to use
the library at your leisure. I just have one small request in return. Tell me more about yourself.” He said with a smile, moving to a chair. He sat and gestured to the one across from him. Slowly she walked to the large cushioned chair and placed the book on her lap. Its tall back was crafted from a dark wood that overshadowed her. The legs seemed to look like roots, like an homage to their Goddess of the Earth, Wixora. She wondered if they knew. If they knew, they lived on the remains of her culture.
“There isn’t much I could tell you.”
“That’s a lie. Tell me about your life.”
“I was orphaned as a babe. My parents both died towards the end of the war.”
She couldn’t remember what they looked like or who they were. Adrian refused to answer her questions as a child and punished her for pestering. Rumors in Klona guessed her parents were warriors. Most of the orphans were the children of such people. No names. No pictures. Her name even was something from Adrian, not her family. She wondered what her mother would’ve named her. Was there a family name? Did she have siblings once?
“I’m sorry,” he softly said. She looked down at the floor, not wanting to see the pity on his face.
“The assassins are one of the few places that will take in orphans. Most cities and towns after the war didn’t have the extra food to feed orphans. I was one of the lucky ones. It was a better option than being left on the street to die, but it wasn’t much of a childhood.” She continued thinking back. She could remember being nine and wanting to play in the streets with the other kids. She was told no and to continue learning about poisons. Adrian, her Master Assassin, beat her for crying. There was no time to play as an assassin. There were no dresses. No fancy dinners. It was eat this. Eat it quick and go. The constant pressure to be worth the food and clothes provided was always there. You could not disappoint because if you got kicked out for not being enough, you were on your own. She knew kids who were considered not good enough and kicked out. Most died. Some tried to join the mercenaries, but they had no interest in children.
The Death Sparrow's Shadow: The Assassin of Acreage Book One Page 12