Amaskan's Blood, Raven Oak [read me a book .TXT] 📗

“It’s not as simple as that. I was sent here to do a job, which only ends if there is no longer a threat, or I fail. If I succeed, I will return home to await new orders.”

“You would, were you Amaskan. But you’re not now. There are no new orders for you.”

Adelei touched her finger to the scar on her jaw. Puffy but healed, it was a reminder. “I would still go home to await new orders. It’s my duty to the Order.”

“So it doesn’t matter what you want?”

“Does it matter what the father wants when the King must act?” When he frowned, she continued, “I thought not. It’s the same with me. I have a job to do, Amaskan or not. Part of what makes me the best is that I do my job because it is right—just. If it were any other way, you wouldn’t want me here to protect the Princess.”

King and father battled for a moment, his shoulders tensing as he shifted in his seat until he slumped forward, more defeated than ever. She thought the King had won out until he spoke. “How you are so wise at such a young age, I’ll never know. It couldn’t make me prouder, though I wish your sister shared some of that wisdom.”

It was a father’s joy that spread across his face, lighting up his eyes like fireflies and tripling the wrinkles around his eyes. It was a familiar joy. Master Bredych had been a wonderful father, if light on the praise at times, and now both men shared the same look. One before her, and the other in her memory.

“I’m sorry I brought you here under false pretenses,” he added, and his smile faded. “Ida mentioned an attack by the Tribor. Tell me about it.”

Watching this man shift from father to king so rapidly left a bad taste in her mouth. Her head was spinning. I never know who I’m talking to. Even worse—just when I feel like I’m getting to know the father, the King undercuts me and leaves me vulnerable and exposed. What a dangerous man he is. Adelei glanced up at the King through thick lashes.

He did it on purpose. The King moved across her father’s skin, a hidden creature just out of reach. When I think it safe, he strikes. No wonder people find him such a deadly enemy. She hated being used like that but admired the skill nonetheless.

“As we passed through the forest a day’s travel before Menoir, we were attacked by a Tribor assassin. I held him while we questioned him, but he gave us little information. All we know for certain was that he was sent to stop me from reaching you. Before we could get details, he killed himself on my blade.”

“So a real mark has been placed on Margaret’s head.”

“Not necessarily,” Adelei answered. “He was sent to stop me from reaching this city—the mark may well be on me. If it is, I can’t take Her Highness’s place in the wedding. It’ll put her in more danger if she’s me.”

“Margaret will be happy with that.” She shot him a dark look, and he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. She’ll be happy to be in the wedding again. I can’t see her rejoicing over your death.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she muttered.

King Leon drummed his fingers on the chair’s arm, the pads of his fingertips thumping the carved wood. “Why would they want to stop you?”

“They want this marriage to move forward, and they know that if I’m here, I’ll find out information that could lead to the end of the peace treaty. Chances are they were hired by the Shadian family to ensure things move forward, despite the rumors regarding Prince Gamun.”

“I assume this one bore the mark.”

Adelei nodded. “’Twas fairly new though.”

“Why the ankle?”

“Your Majesty?”

“Why the mark on the ankle?” he asked.

“The ankle is easily hidden. Unlike Amaskans, the Tribor wish to remain anonymous since they are hired to commit acts against the Thirteen.” Adelei’s eyes flashed as she stared at King Leon. “Amaskans are proud. They bear their mark openly and are not afraid to do their job.”

Footfalls moved outside, and Adelei held a finger to her lips. She tiptoed to the door, one hand on her dirk’s hilt. Adelei waved at her father then, miming talking with her fingers.

“Oh… um… that makes sense, I suppose, though I can’t see what the Shadians think they will gain… by such a plan,” he said.

She pressed her ear against the door. Outside, the guards still paced. Whoever it was, he or she was high enough in rank for the guards to maintain their silence and not be startled.

Adelei waved in her father’s direction again, and he cleared his throat noisily before speaking. “Do you think yo—the princess is in danger?” As he spoke, Adelei yanked open the door. She reached through it and seized the eavesdropper by the shirt. Adelei hauled the person into the room before slamming the door shut again. Without a glance, she shoved the would-be-assailant into the chair she had vacated, and it was only then that she got a good look at the person before her.

“Margaret. What are you doing here?” King Leon asked, color flooding back into his cheeks.

“I-I couldn’t sleep. A-and I decided to take a walk, when I saw her—,” she said, jerking a thumb in the direction of Adelei, “—come in here. And I thought you were in danger.” Margaret held up a small dinner knife, one used to spread jam and with all the sharpness of a hair comb.

Adelei burst out laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” Margaret dropped the knife in her confusion, where it clanged against the stone floor and skittered under a chair. King Leon’s lip trembled as he bit back laughter, which only served to make Adelei laugh harder.

Unable to breathe, she sucked in a gasp. “I’m sorry, but seeing you holding that