The Assassin Princess

A Foolish Kidnapping

Alaric didn't know why, but he felt panicked. Calira could protect herself; he knew that. She was also fiercely guarded by two other assassins. Yet, worry filled his gut.

What if they overpowered Calira?

What if they killed Wesley and Zarek?

What if they threatened Triscan?

Everyone that mattered to Alaric was in that castle. The haunting image of Calira strewn across the white marble throne room floor popped into his head. His heart always skipped a beat at the image and his breath left him. He didn't understand or know where the image had originated, but ever since he had learned of his betrothal to the blonde princess, it was there in the corner of his mind. He wondered if it were a premonition. He had never believed in such things before, but the level of detail was too much for him to have thought of it on his own.

The thought of Calira dead was enough to take his breath away. She was too much of a fighter to imagine dead. She was constantly in motion. The cold, immovability of death didn't match up with her at all. He had never thought he would feel so panicked over his unwanted assassin bride, but somehow Calira had become a necessary entity in his life, much like she had been when they were children.

"Your Grace, we're almost to the capital," Alaric was brought out of his thoughts at his general's words. He looked up and could make out the top of the palace's towers just over the top of the trees. Once he was home, he could put his panic to rest. He'd be able to see Calira and know that she was safe and sound with her overprotective guardians.

The palace was a welcomed sight, but the heightened guards at the gates alerted Alaric that his notice had gotten to the castle in time. At least that was what he told himself as they made their way into the palace courtyard.

"I should go and check on the princess," Alaric remarked to General Tyrus as he dismounted his steed and handed it to a nearby soldier. Tyrus nodded his head obediently. The old man glanced around, half expecting an excited noblewoman to come running out of the palace toward the sovereign, but no one other than a few of the palace servants and guards greeted Alaric.  Tyrus didn't voice his curiosity about the princess engaged to their new King. He had heard tales from messengers that she was a wondrous beauty that was reminiscent of the old royalty, but no one knew where she came from or how she came to be the Crown Prince's betrothed. The secrecy and mystery surrounding the soon-to-be queen was enough to pique Tyrus's interest. 

"I will coordinate with the advisers on the matter of the intruders," Tyrus remarked to Alaric's back. Alaric gave a confirming wave before he disappeared into the palace. Tyrus sighed and turned to command his troops to stand watch at the gates to provide extra security.

Alaric didn't notice the lack of maids scurrying around. In fact, he didn't notice the total lack of any of the usual servants going about their jobs. All he was focused on was making sure that Calira and his father were alright. Then he could focus on the breach of security at the border and how to keep the same from happening at his wedding. He stopped at the library, since he knew that was where his betrothed had been spending most of her time lately, escaping from wedding planning. All he found were tables filled with wilting flowers. He frowned.

Had Calira really blown off picking out the flowers? After all, she had offered to do it. Alaric frowned. Trust the assassins to do anything other than what was expected of them.

"Oh, you're back!" Alaric turned to see Wesley practically running down the hall toward him. Alaric's frown deepened. He had yet to see Wesley or Zarek separated from Calira, especially since the threats against her life had been heightened.