Royal Assassin

I could still sense him, waiting, but knew he was holding himself apart from my thoughts. My mind raced frantically. There were too many things to juggle. This was a thing I must do if I wished to win myself free from a life as an assassin. It was a chance to make all the secrets old secrets rather than an ongoing exclusion of Molly and her trust. I had to take it. But how could I do this, and keep secret from him Nighteyes and all that we shared? I quested toward Nighteyes. Our bond is a secret. I must keep it so. Today, then, I must hunt alone. Do you understand?

No. It is stupid and dangerous. I shall be there, but you may trust me to be unseen and unknowable.

“What did you do, just then?” It was Verity, speaking aloud. His hand was on my wrist. I looked down into his eyes. There was no harshness to his question. He asked it as I might ask it of a small child found carving on the woodwork. I stood frozen inside myself. I longed to unburden myself, to have one person in the world who knew all about me, everything that I was.

You already do, Nighteyes objected.

It was true. And I could not endanger him. “You must trust me, also,” I found myself saying to my King-in-Waiting.

And when he remained looking up at me consideringly, I asked, “My prince. Do you?”

“Yes.” With one word, he gave me his trust, and with it his confidence that whatever I had been doing would not bring him harm. It sounds a simple thing, but for a King-in-Waiting to permit his own assassin to keep secrets from him was a staggering act. Years ago, his father had bought my loyalty, with a promise of food and shelter and education and a silver pin thrust into my shirtfront. Verity’s simple act of trust was suddenly more to me than any of these things. The love I had always felt for him suddenly knew no bounds. How could I not trust him?

He smiled sheepishly. “You can Skill, when you’ve heart to.” With no more than that, he entered my mind again. As long as his hand was on my wrist, the joining of thoughts was effortless. I felt his curiosity and tinge of woe at looking down at his own face through my eyes. A looking glass is kinder. I have aged.

With him ensconced in my mind, it would have been useless to deny the truth of what he said. So, it was a necessary sacrifice. I agreed.

He lifted his hand from my wrist. For a moment I had dizzying double vision, looking at myself, looking at him, and then it settled. He turned carefully to set his own eyes once more on the horizon, and then sealed that vision from me. Without his touch, this clasping of minds was a different thing. I left the room slowly and went down the stairs as if I were balancing a wineglass full to the brim. Exactly. And in both cases, it is easier to do if you do not look at it and think about it so heavily. Just carry.

I went down to the kitchens, where I ate a solid breakfast and tried to behave normally. Verity was right. It was easier to maintain our contact if I didn’t focus on it. While everyone there was busied at other tasks, I managed to slip a plateful of biscuits into my carry sack. “Going hunting?” Cook asked me as she turned about. I nodded.

“Well, be careful. What are you going after?”

“Wild boar,” I improvised. “Just to locate one, not to attempt a kill today. I thought it might be a fine amusement during Winterfest.”

“For who? Prince Verity? You won’t budge him out of the Keep, pet. Keeps too much to his rooms these days, he does, and poor old King Shrewd hasn’t taken a real meal with us in weeks. I don’t know why I keep cooking his favorites, when the tray comes back as full as I sent it. Now, Prince Regal, he might go, long as it didn’t muss his curls.” There was a general clucking of laughter among the kitchen maids at that. My cheeks burned at Cook’s boldness. Steady. They don’t know I’m here, boy. And naught of what is said to you shall be held against them by me. Don’t betray us now. I sensed Verity’s amusement, and also his concern. So I permitted myself a grin, thanked Cook for the pasty she insisted I take, and left the Keep kitchen.