“You wish,” he retorts, examining his nails. “I have a little time before my next engagement though, so I’m happy to watch Master Waylen kick yours.”
“Remind me why we’re friends?” I tease as I continue toward the training room. We’ve been thick as thieves ever since his father, the ambassador from Maardune, came to court five years ago.
Alex catches up and matches my stride. “Because I’m so incredibly charming and your best excuse whenever you need one.” I think there’s a note of hurt in his voice, but I shake it off. Surely I’m imagining it.
Jabbing him with my elbow, I joke, “Sure you don’t want to reconsider? You’re getting a little soft.”
A gleam of challenge lights up his eyes, and he flexes his arm. “You jest. I trained just last week.”
I roll my eyes. “Exactly. Consistency is key, Alex.”
“Not everyone wants to have rock-solid abs like you, Kian.”
“Just keep telling yourself that.”
After a grueling trainingsession with Master Waylen and even convincing Alex to get sweaty, I make my way back to my wing to freshen up. I have important plans, and it’s going to be a late night.
After my failure at House Astoria, I’m more than anxious to find another lead. Gods willing, I’ll findsomethingto guide me to the next step in my quest, but first, I have a small caravan to rob.
Clad from head to toe in black, I take the servants’ passages out to the stables without seeing a soul. My glorious onyx stallion nickers happily as I sneak him a treat before readying him for the evening ahead.
Phantom’s coloring is dark as night but for the white crescent moon on his forehead. I dip my fingers into a pot of kohl, covering up his distinctive mark as always. Thankfully, Father has a stable full of black horses, and no one will be the wiser if we’re spotted.
Once Phantom is bridled, saddled, and ready to go, I mount up and race off into the night.
Father let slip that a small caravan of grain, fruits, and vegetables is arriving tonight, so I just need to catch it before they make it here. There are so many starving families in our city, and if he isn’t going to do anything about it, I sure will.
I have to admit, I’m slightly angry my brother, Colin, doesn’t seem to care about the people he will eventually rule. He appears happy to enjoy all the wealth our kingdom has to offer and ignore the plight of those he considers beneath him. I had highhopes his wife would be a good influence on him, but so far, nothing has changed.
Why do I have to care? Life would be so much easier if I could just enjoy the privilege I was born with and spend my days in the company of good women, fine food, and drink, but no. Something within me says,“Kian, you must do more.”
The darkest part of me wonders if an “accident” should befall my father or brother so our kingdom could be in better hands. Perhaps Colin’s child will grow up wiser.
I shake my head.Regicide? Really? I’m not that horrible of a person, am I?No. Killing must be a last resort.
I gallop down the king’s road and into the forest, hoping it’s not too late. I have very little time to get into position before the caravan is supposed to arrive. The forest is eerily dark and quiet when I slow Phantom to a walk. Perhaps I’m an utter fool to attempt this thievery all on my own, but the last thing I want to do is bring someone else into it who could possibly be caught and put to death. Nor am I willing to trust someone else to keep this secret. I made sure to spread rumors about a party I’d be “attending” this evening to avoid any suspicion. Luna willing, my ruse will hold.
Pulling out a long skein of fishing wire, I string it across the road. It’s practically invisible in the dark, and the wagon’s lanterns are not likely to catch it. Step one complete.
I retreat to Phantom and settle in to wait, pulling out my water flagon and drinking deeply. A yawn escapes me, and I reach into my saddle bag for some of my herbs. Chewing the somewhat spicy blend, I’m instantly more alert when they kick in. Thank the goddess Galyna that Margot, my favorite healer, told me about this stuff.
Before long, the rumble of the caravan filters through the trees. It’s small enough that I should be able to handle it on my own—shouldbeing the operative word. Two wagons pass by, andI tie my black mask around my head. Immediately, I’m more at peace. I’m ready.
There are four guards accompanying the wagons, two of them riding ahead and two behind. They should reach the trap in . . .
Three.
Two.
One.
The first two horses neigh as their riders are flung off their backs, the invisible wire taking them out. Just as I planned, the horses take off into the night, spooked by their invisible foe. I chuckle to myself. Like taking candy from a baby.
The wagons rumble to a stop, their drivers looking around frantically. I jump off Phantom and silently stalk toward the fallen guards. Stunned and disoriented, they don’t even put up a fight as I slam my fist into their temples one by one, knocking them out.
Now for the other two. Shouts ring out through the forest as I sneak between the wagons. One guard’s back is to me, and I leap onto it, throwing my arm around his throat and pulling tight. He slumps to the ground, and I duck as the almost silentzingof a sword zips over my head. Shit. That was way too close for comfort. I roll to my feet while pulling out my own sword, and it meets the guard’s with a clang.
“You’re not gonna get the better of me, you thieving piece of filth,” the guard taunts as we parry. His blade slices toward me and nicks my arm. I hiss at the sting but then quickly spin and have my blade to his throat before he can blink.
