Forced To Kill The Prince

by Hollie Hutchins

  He'll want to extract everything from my head. Will he torture me? He's probably the type to do so, though I'd say Ronar was worse than anyone else. It's funny, because I've only heard accounts from other people, and seen the kind of faces he pulls when he looks at someone, like he wants to dissect them and see what's throbbing inside.

  Awful, awful man. And I'm an awful person.

  When I fall asleep, it's fitful and heated, because it's hard to fall asleep comfortable when your wrists are chained, though I can just about manage to curl, if I leave one arm stretched out behind me. It's not exactly ideal, but hey. I've already tried escaping, but it's impossible to get out of these manacles by myself.

  Waking up, I see that Aradin is sitting in a chair by my bedside. I've lain on top of the covers completely naked the whole night, and now this prince is here, giving me the impression he might have sat there for hours.

  “Morning. Food's here. Don't want you starving yourself just yet.” His eyes gleam with anticipation. Probably for the extended interrogation he plans to give me. Well, pity for him, because I don't plan to hold any of my secrets. I'll likely be dead either way, and the thief den isn't the nicest place to be anyway. I might have done reasonable jobs, but most people there don't. They hide in the shadows, slit the throats of those they want to steal from, and do sometimes despicable jobs for coin. Some hold themselves to a standard, but where I came from, there was no real standard that existed. Just the coin.

  I keep thinking about the five thousand coins. Ganned would have gotten five thousand as well, just for taking on the deal and passing it onto me. He won't be happy that I'm caught. Even if I got released, I'd likely be killed by my own guild.

  “Thanks,” I say, chain clacking as I reach for flatbread, chewing into it without bothering to use the butter.

  He watches me, his nose wrinkled. “You eat like a commoner, lady Charlotte.”

  “Yeah, well, we can give up the façade now, right?” I speak with my mouth half full, taking a small glee in how unattractive it must look to him. It's a shame, really. If he wasn't about one finger-twitch away from murdering me, he would have been a nice person for me to handle. I wish, in a way, I had more time to explore his body, to see what lies under that shirt, and to speak to him in that fanciful manner, and forget who I really am. Even though I complained, it was nice to pretend to be a lady. Wearing that pretty dress, with my hair brushed out and gleaming, my face rosy from the makeup.

  Now he sees me for who I am. And it's not lady Charlotte Keen. It's just Charlie. No last name. Never had the parents. Never particularly cared in seeking them out, since if they wanted to leave me in a ditch, then I highly doubt they're feeling any regret for it.

  Aradin appears faintly disappointed. “Oh, come on, now. You're not going to give up just like that? I was looking forward in vigorously extracting the information from you. Though of course, it might all be fake.”

  I twitch my lips in a thin smile at the shifter who wants to kill me. “The second you caught me, I died,” I explain. “Even if you somehow let me free – which I doubt – I won't have anywhere to go. If Ronar doesn't kill me, then my guild will. And I don't feel loyal to either of them right now.”

  “Hmm.” Aradin traces a finger over my cheek. The heat forms a kind of residual trail there, one I can trace with my mind. “What was your task, little Charlotte?” His sapphire eyes pierce me in that moment, and I forget how to breathe. I also forget just how vulnerable and naked I am in this moment. He's seen all of me. Right before he locked me up and threw away the key.

  Let's see if he believes me or not. “I was supposed to get in good with you. Then kill you and your two sisters, and injure Ronar in a convincing way so that people would think that everyone was a target. But obviously, he would live, so I highly doubt anyone would suspect that for even a second.”

  Aradin lets out a soft snort at this. “He expected you, a puny little human, to kill three dragon shifters?”

  “I would have been given a Dragon Heart dagger,” I say. Aradin shudders at this, as if the name itself is a weakness. “Provided, of course, by your wonderful brother, Ronar. Seriously, what went wrong in his upbringing to make him hate you so much?”

  He doesn't respond to that. He's not interested in casual banter. His eyes now trail over my naked body again. Taking everything in. He then closes his eyelids, takes a deep breath, and says, “How much did he offer you to destroy our family?”

  “Five thousand,” I say.

  “Five thousand?” His lips tremble. One hand clenches into a fist. “What an insult. That's pocket change to our family.”

  “It's everything to someone poor,” I whisper. “Others will try. But they won't be able to do the love con, since no doubt you'll be alert to any strange new women.”

  He nods, brows scrunched thoughtfully. “To think you commoners would be prepared to wreck everything just for pocket change.”

  “Greed does something to a man's soul,” I tell him, though it's a quote from Ganned. “Rich or poor, all have it. All are in danger of it. And you as well. Because you royals like to hoard up so much money, while the rest of us try to survive on half a copper a day – you might get people who'd kill your family for one gold coin.”

  The prince lets out a curse. “It'll be hard to track so many assassins. Especially if my dear brother gets free with his money.”

  I don't think anyone would have a chance to survive if they got enough assassins interested in killing them. Servants could be bribed, and unless they essentially lock themselves up in their rooms and never see the light of day again, I don't think the royal family can avoid assassins.

  “It probably won't make you feel any better, but I was having doubts about going through with the whole assassination.”

  Aradin stares at me disbelievingly, but waves his hand. “Go on, then. Tell me how you suddenly decided to change your mind, little Charlotte. Bearing in mind that you're in a position right now where I'll take liberties with whatever you'll say.”

  I roll my eyes. It sounds childish now. Of course he won't believe me. And it's not like I stopped myself. I was still going through with it anyway. “I probably wouldn't have stopped going through with it. I had my master whipping me at the heels to succeed, and my own self-interest will override anything else. He picked me randomly for the mission. I used to do small time heists. I killed people for my clients, but frankly, I didn't mind killing those people, because I thought the streets would be better off without them anyway. When my master said 'yeah, you have red hair, we'll use you.' I ended up in this huge scheme. Over my head, really.” I bite my lip, scowling.

  Aradin doesn't appear impressed by what I'm saying, but he doesn't interrupt.

  “Yeah, the money offer was nice. But it didn't really sit right with me. Like, I can kill people who linger in alleyways and rape the women that pass. No problem. But... destabilize a regime and let an absolute tyrant onto the throne? If he's prepared to murder all his siblings to become next in line, forcing that legitimacy... it's going to be a lot worse off. But I don' get a say in what I'll do.”

  “You could just have chosen not to get into the business in the first place.”

  Now I let out a snort. “Sure. Then I'd be dead. You want to know how they recruited me? I killed someone who was going to rape me. An eight year old kid. And master Ganned saw an opportunity in raising me up this way, because you don't get many kids who get that courage to beat up the adult in question.”

  “Hmm.” Aradin taps his fingers against the side of the wall, near where my chains hold me. “This doesn't in any way make me feel sorry for you. Given that you would have slit the throats of three people.”

  “Of course.” I cross my legs, since I feel rather exposed right now. “I deserve this. Doing something so big, I deserve to be caught for it. And I think a part of me wanted to be caught as well.”

  “True. That accent of yours really needed some work at times. Others might mistake you for ru
ral nobility, but I definitely heard a taint of the slums in there.”

  Not that this is the point or anything. Then, a suspicion comes to me. “I wasn't that bad. You have an informant in the slums, don't you?”

  He smiles at this. “Good. Yes. It's the only way I can counter most of the attempts on my family. I have to reach the people who would kill me first. And counter anything with my own men. Most of my criminals have a deal with me – that if anyone offers them money to kill someone important, they will let me match the price to prevent it. And if I find out they're playing me for money, then I'll simply have them killed by one of the other criminals in my employ.”

  I gape at him, amazed for a moment. “Why not kill your brother, then? Gods, if you already have contacts, you can easily counter his plots!”

  “It doesn't work like that. He's got the same protections against me. Besides, I need my brother so I can find out exactly where he's going, and claim those dens for myself. It's hard to track where he's going. I intend to eliminate every branch I can, and he's leading me to them. It might sound counterproductive to you, but it's in my best interest to keep my brother alive. We get about six assassination attempts a week.”

  His hand is teasing my nipple now, and I sigh. “I take it I'm either going to die, become a sex slave, or something else I haven't thought of.”

  He begins to chuckle. “Taking a woman when she doesn't want it isn't nearly as fun. I do have a plan for you, little Charlotte. One that I hope will satisfy your master as well. How would you feel about turning traitor?”

  Hope flares in my breast. The kind of hope where I assumed I'd be killed, and then find out that might not be the case at all. Hope can be dangerous too, since it's liable to be smashed on the ground. His proposal, if he actually decides to go through with it, will put me in a more awkward position as well. The kind I don't want to be in, since it effectively pincers me from three different sides. My boss, my client, and the one who wants me to turn traitor on them.

  “Depends. What you do intend for me to do if I start working for you?”

  He's nodding. “It's a shame you're a thief. I like your straightforwardness.”

  “Well, I'm still registered as lady Keen. They put a lot of money in that scheme to make me appear like a noblewoman.”

  “I'm sure.” He examines me for a moment, deep in thought. “What I desire is that you'll be my next informant in the thief den. Once this is all finished with. You'll continue doing your petty things, but if you catch even a whiff of a threat against my family, you inform me straight away. I'll pay you.”

  Reasonable enough. But there's one major issue. “How do we handle your brother? He has his fingers in that den. If he finds out that not only did we fail the assassination, but you're paying us to counter spy on him or whatever – I imagine he'll find a way to kill everyone there.”

  “Then you'll just have to keep an eye out, won't you? Because I don't plan to help thieves beyond how much they can help me. Lastly, little Charlotte, I'll declare that I find you interesting. I'll walk you around the castle, I'll let my brother think the plan is going well. But I want you to spy on my brother, too.”

  I begin sweating. “Okay. And how exactly do you expect me to pull off my 'failed' attempt in killing you?”

  “Easy. We'll make it public. I'll do something like throw you on the ground in front of an audience, yell something about how dare my brother sends someone to try and kill me. You won't say anything. I'll knock you out. And everyone will think that it failed. No one can blame you for it. And my brother will likely go hunting for more competent assassins afterwards. But obviously, we need to make it look like his plan almost works. So you'll get that dagger of yours.”

  “You sound so sure that I won't just turn on you and complete the plan myself,” I respond. This is such a desperate, tricky situation. I can't imagine how we'll be able to wriggle out of it at all without something going wrong somewhere.

  He wants me to almost succeed, but not. In a way, he's putting his trust that I'll stay true to his money.

  “I can tell you dislike Ronar. I should hope that will be enough incentive to accept payment.” He reaches into his pocket, and draws out a pouch. It clinks with that musical quality gold has, and I freeze. “One hundred gold coins. A fraction of the payment I offer you. And I give it to you now. Use it to buy yourself more dresses, keep up your noble appearance. I'll assign a maid to you.”

  He's got it all planned out. Unbelievable. Was this what he was working on, when he had me tied up here? He wanted to figure out how to turn his brother's weapon against him?

  The horrible thing is, even if I agree, there's a strong chance that Ronar will find out I've been compromised. Swords point to me from all directions. Death has me in its claws. But maybe it had me from the start.

  There's nowhere else for me to go.

  “I also want to test your loyalty and skill. There's three people I want you to kill.” He raises an eyebrow. “Maybe I'll have need of a personal assassin in the future.”

  Right. Can't test someone's loyalty unless you give them tasks to test it with. The one person I won't kill, no matter how loyal he wants me to be, is Ganned. For all that man's faults, he did take me in and he did give me a better life than before. He taught me to use others before they could use me. Because it's not a nice world down in the slums. Survival of the fittest takes control.

  And that's just the way things are.

  I take a deep breath. “Fine. Who are my marks? And how much are you paying me for each one?”

  He chuckles at this. Now he starts threading his fingers through my hair. “I'll tell you shortly. I think... should you prove to be loyal to me, we might enter into a very profitable arrangement together.”

  Those eyes raking my body leave me no doubt as to what additional arrangements he's considering. I respond to that attention with awkward heat, which spreads across my face and down to the tips of my toes. Part of me now wants him to take me. He's hashed out a deal. Why not claim his prize whilst she still can't do anything to resist?

  I might do it, if I was him. There's something addictive about having that kind of power over someone. It's a dark place. And there's a balance between power and abuse. Too many people who have power end up abusing it.

  He doesn't, though. He gives me a curt nod, then walks out of the room. He comes back with some clothes shortly afterwards, and tells me a servant will be here for me shortly, to introduce me to my new quarters. It will add more authenticity, that we're going through some kind of whirlwind romance, and we're going to be hopelessly falling for one another. People will ask questions, and it'll be best if I act like I really like him and I'm a little shy about it.

  It's all so devious.

  I put on my new clothes, which are not as flashy as the dress from last night. It's supposed to be day clothes, but even then, they have a fanciness to them that no ordinary day clothes in the slums could ever replicate. A simple white dress with drills and embroidered silver dragons along the sleeves and skirt hem. Representing that I'm under the interest of a dragon lord or prince.

  Meaning that I'm now permanently under his thumb.

  Chapter Four

  Killing the three people were easy. One liked to frequent brothels and aim for the youngest women there, and by youngest, I mean basically children. He staggered out weak and drunk, and I slit his throat with east, taking the silvers from his purse. The second was a little tougher. I needed to clamber in through his bedroom window at night during a storm, to mask the sounds of my approach, and almost got flattened by a tree during the whole process. He wasn't in bed yet, so I hid under his bed until I was sure that he was sleeping, and took him then. I didn't know what his crimes were, but when I went into the basement as a precaution, I found something awful down there.

  Something that convinced me he deserved the death that came to him. I still see those glassy eyes now, those dead people, those terrified survivors. A lair of evil.

&n
bsp; Aradin was clearly making me target the most depraved members of the minor nobility he could come up with. And how did he know such information? How did he discover the evils that lurked in their hearts?

  The third one was a woman. Even though women are just as capable of cruelty as men are, I still hesitated upon the idea of killing her, because I'm just so used to seeing men as the perpetrators. She made it hard for me. Right until I discovered what she liked to do in her spare time.

  She took orphans off the street and turned them into sex slaves. She made a tidy profit from this, since no one would be missing the orphans, and I must say, I took great pleasure in hearing her scream. I don't know what will happen to those freed from her grip, however.

  I had to spread out the assassinations over the two weeks, whilst maintaining my social bearing. I attended at least two more court parties, taking part in their inane conversations, pretending to be interested when I wouldn't have minded just ignoring everything they said.