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I approach the room. The distinct female voice registers louder as I get closer. “Did you think you’d get away with it? You will lose your life for this treachery,” she says.
“Is reality not sinking in, my dear? You two are outnumbered. And it seems you’ve given me a great gift. It’s not against the law to kill trespassers if your life is in danger. When the Guard investigates and sees the weapons that were in your possession, I will be cleared of any wrong-doing. And with both of you out of the picture I will be able to step into the light without any resistance,” the male voice says.
“When our father returns, you, sir, will be hanged for your crimes against House Santana,” a familiar male voice spits across the room. Liam.
I lie back against the wall just outside the room’s entrance, listening intently to the exchange. What is Liam doing inside? He's supposed to be with Aiden. Is Aiden ok? My mind is swirling with more and more questions—spinning to make sense of what is happening.
“There will be nothing left for your father to return to. You and your whorish sister won’t, unfortunately for you, make it through the night. Your father’s lands will be seized by tomorrow afternoon. An emergency viva voce will commence as early as the evening, temporarily placing me in power in the absence of Fort Lowsan’s governing house, until I call for a dissipation of House Santana after your father never comes home. Your entrance to my home tonight has saved me a lot of trouble. I couldn’t have planned the sequence of events better myself,” says the male voice.
Someone yells, the sound of fury reaching me as if there wasn’t a wall between us. Heavy steps, the sound of grunts and bone against flesh leaving little to the imagination. I step from my hiding place, the distraction of the fight enough for me to peer into the room. Five unknown men, one of them most assuredly Sir Crane with his graying hair and drooping features, along with Tess and Liam Santana, occupy the space.
Why would they be here? I was supposed to be the one in the house. They were supposed to…
Realization soaks through me as if caught in a summer storm. I was supposed to be the distraction— my retrieving of three worthless items. They must have assumed my presence would divert Sir Crane. He was supposed to be in one of those rooms, my searching and presence alerting him. And my subsequent interception from the man would have allowed Tess and Liam to come unnoticed.
The picture begins to take shape, the obscure pieces finding their place. They never counted on me retrieving the items. Or me being able to sneak in undetected. Tess didn't think I could go unseen.
Part of me is impressed by Tess's cleverness, sending me in as the decoy. It almost brings a smile to my face. I knew there was more than meets the eye when it came to Tess Santana. But the other part of me wants to strangle the woman. She thought I lied about who I was, or at least embellished my abilities. And because of it she used me as a pawn in her game, and I walked right into it. My lips curl downward. And what a stupid game it was. They have been caught red-handed by the one person they wanted me to inadvertently entertain in order for them to avoid.
These siblings are not adept to fight off these men on their own in the middle of the night. Where is their backup? The twenty men that met us outside the tavern? Another glance into the space shows a now bloodied Liam, red oozing from his nose, and Tess backed into a corner by the heftiest of Crane’s company.
“Maybe we don’t kill this one right away. The night is young. Let’s have a little fun first,” the burly man says, ravenously fixed upon the Santana woman. I stifle the snarl rising within my throat. This man will be the first to die under my hand if it comes to a fight.
Tess draws a knife from her waist. “You come near me and I will cut off your most valuable asset.” The men only laugh at her remark, the kind of sound a starving hyena makes right before devouring their fallen prey.
There’s nothing I would love more than to let the Santana’s figure this out on their own. If they are going to throw me to the wolves to get whatever it is they are looking for, then I should return the favor. But something about the way these men were talking earlier, how they’re talking now— it feels as though it affects me as well. I don’t know how and I don’t know what my role is in their schemes. But for some reason it feels important.
I should turn and run. Save myself. But when have I ever been sensible?
The smell of death hovers close by. These men would have no problem watching the life slowly drain from Liam and Tess Santana.
I can’t take all these men out alone. Liam doesn’t look completely helpless, but Tess looks like a baby bird that just fell from its nest. Her long, graceful features would master a ballroom, but will do little to help her here without some basic training. She will be a liability in an all out brawl should one arise.
I’m about to step into the room, even lifting a foot from the floor to grab my dagger as I enter, when one of the men begins to speak. “Almost a decade in the making, Phillip. Can you believe we’re finally here? And we didn’t even have to lure the mouse in with the promise of cheese.” I freeze at the declaration, my brows scrunching together. Almost a decade? Almost a decade making what exactly?
The same puzzlement lies on the features of Tess. Liam is preoccupied with what is most likely a broken nose, either unable to respond or completely oblivious to the conversation.
His sister can’t help pulling at the thread. “What do you mean?” she asks, focusing not on the man who threatened her only moments ago, but the one who spoke of their premeditated plan.
“Let’s just say taking over one throne of power is no different than another. The stepping stones become easier to lay,” the man says. I grasp at the edge of understanding.
“Now, now. They may be living their last moments, Tamen, but there’s no need to give away the whole farm,” responds Sir Crane.
My eyes focus, taking in a deep gulp of air as all reservations leave me.Trust yourself, and you will win them all.Marg’s words ring through me as I step across the threshold.
My body moves in one fluid motion. I step carefully, hoping to make it as far into the room as I can before being noticed. But a noisy floorboard creeks underneath me, my once soundless path now giving away my presence. Tess spots me immediately, unsure of what to make of my appearance— neither joy nor fear crossing her face.
Before the horde can react to the noise, I jump behind whom I suspect is Phillip Crane. As the head of his house, his life would be most valued, and his word followed by whomever stands by his side. And if it came down to it, I wouldn’t hesitate to cut off the head of the snake slithering in front of me.
My blade is already in hand as I kick against the back of his legs. His feet fall from under him, landing him on his knees just as I wrap my arm under his own and secure my hold at the back his neck, rendering his left arm completely useless. The edge of my blade rests against his throat, the push and pull of my precarious hold solidifying that I’m no stranger to a killing blow. Every time he tries to back away from the pinch of metal against his sensitive flesh, he’s met with the resistance of my hand behind him.
He opens his mouth to talk, but I cut him off. “I don’t think that’s a good ideaPhillip, unless you don’t want to ever speak again.” I smile down at him, a maliciousness in the gesture that earns me a continued scowl from his men.
They advance on our position. “One more step and you’ll watch his life disappear before your feet.” I tighten my control on Sir Crane. An involuntary grunt escapes his lips, triggering him to raise his free hand to stop the progression of his men.
A small lantern lies broken on the floor in front of a large desk, centered toward the far wall. Glass shards are shattered in the area, scattered around by the chaotic steps of clumsy confusion. A large map is spread across one wall, dark wood accents claiming the majority of the space. For being a fruit grower, I see little to do with orchards, upkeep of land, or industry and commerce in what appears to be Sir Crane’s personal office.
I stare toward Tess, lying awkwardly in the grip of the burly man. “Now, Phillip. Why on earth would Tess and Liam Santana want to break into your home?” I ask. Tess looks between us, her chest heaving.
