AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I could do nothing but trust her in this. My reputation would be in her hands. Suddenly, my taunting felt unnecessary. There was a seriousness in the set of her lips, a sincerity in the shine of her gray eyes.
“I’ll get you in the room—”
“There is a divider by the bookshelf, it’s hiding a portrait my father is currently having made. We can enter there if we are quiet,” Maggie interjected.
“Yes, and if you’d shut up you would know that I was getting to that.” I huffed a breath. “I will then have to return to the hallway so that I can appear as if I’m returning from the bathroom. You can’t kill him until I’m back in the room.”
“You’re going to make me wait?” Maggie gaped.
“That’s what I just said.”
“You two would have never worked out as a couple.” Jesseline looked appalled, watching us argue. “Can we just get this over with? I’ve got other pressing matters to deal with.” Her eyes flashed in warning. “Take this.” She offered her dagger, the insignia of the assassin’s guild pressed into its hilt.
Maggie didn’t give it a second look as she slipped it into an unseen fold in her messy gown. She looked at me impatiently.
“Fine,” I placed a hand on either side of Maggie’s arms. “Have you ever done this before?”
“No, but it’s easy, right? You do all the work.” Her voice was confident, but I could feel the goosebumps that formed along her arms.
“If you get dizzy, don’t blow our cover by throwing up.” I frowned. Magic dotted my skin, fanning out like a blanket I’d stretched out over us, and I felt her muscles tense as it began prickling over her skin. The hallways disappeared, replaced with splotches of fair skin and sandy blonde hair.
I nearly gasped when I saw the portrait before I registered that it was just the painting, as Maggie had suggested. The art was so spectacularly done, the painting already so lifelike…I had to take the moment to consider finding the artist for myself. A flimsy room divider kept us unseen from the King of the Obtune Court, but I dared not breathe and neither did Maggie. I kept my hands on her for a moment longer, steadying her as she readjusted to this space.
Mild terror showed in her wide-eyed gaze, but she nodded and I vanished before her chin had dipped back down. Jesseline waited for me, falling into step next to me as I returned.
“Are you ready for the performance of your lifetime?” She smiled.
“Knowing me, I’m sure there will be more opportunities to put on a show.” I rolled my shoulders, trying to work out the tension of my worry.
Together, we turned back down the halls, the guards waiting as they were. Jesseline put a couple of steps between us as we grew closer. I wondered how long we had taken and the likelihood that these two men, and the two inside the room, thought I’d run off for the largest shit of my life.
One guard leaned forward, twisting the handle for me and gesturing for me to come in. The room was quiet and still as I’d left it. Ottack sat curled on the couch looking over his shoulder out the window, his cup of tea likely gone cold in his hand.
“Have you put your head back on straight?” he said roughly.
“I’ve done the best I can to do that, I believe.” I brushed my hand over my sleeve, knocking off the dust of the dungeon, praying there wasn’t any more evidence on me. Pushing forward through the strain of my own personal dread, I glanced back toward the guard, quickly diverting my eyes back to the ground as I made my way to the couch. The cushions dipped at my weight, pulling me into their expensive comfort.
Folding my hands in my lap, I looked up at the soon-to-be-dead king. “What do you suggest I do going forward?”
“Honestly?” He turned back toward me.
“Yes.”
“Come here, boy, come look out this window with me.” He rose from the couch, drifting smoothly over the floorboards. His steps hardly made a sound, but as I stood and followed, mine creaked loudly. Annoyance spiked inside of me at being referred to as a boy, but nothing was going to change his mind about that, and it wouldn’t matter in ten minutes anyway.
Ottack stretched out a large muscular arm, hooking my shoulders and pulling me against him. He pointed one finger out toward his courtyard, to the city that surrounded it, and the mountain range not far past that. “What do you think makes a good king?”
“I don’t think our answers will be in alignment,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I glanced back at the guard, knowing he needed to not be between Maggie and the king. “Would you be so kind to grab me my cup?”
The guard looked to Ottack, who waved him off quickly. “If I am to shape you into a proper king, I need to know where you stand now.”
The guard's armor jostled with his every step and I hoped Maggie was listening. I closed my eyes, thinking of how to continue, listening for anything that told of Maggie’s presence. If I paid close attention I could hear the shallow whistle of her breathing.
“A good king keeps his people safe, fed, happy, and thriving.” I breathed, taking my cup from the guard. I took a small sip, crinkled my nose, and handed it back. “Add some sugar?”
His face remained blank, though I caught the slightest purse of his lips in displeasure as I treated him like a servant. Kings could do as they pleased, as I was sure Ottack was about to get to.
“You see, what you’re saying is all about the people. The people don’t know what they want; they don't know what they need. They don’t even know how to keep themselves happy, and will always find something to bitch about.” He leaned us closer to the window. “A good king leads his people to what they should want and what they should need. And you can’t do that unless you’re sitting comfortably. So fill your cup first, then theirs.”
