The Assassin Princess

The First Night

Alaric stared at the painting his betrothed had disappeared behind. Her heated blush had caused an insane reaction in his body.  He felt attracted to her. It was an odd feeling. For years, he had hated the very thought of the assassin Sarana. Now he was engaged to her and she was the rightful heir to the throne. Not him. He wanted to resent her, but knew he couldn’t. After all, it wasn’t her fault her entire family was slaughtered. He unconsciously walked toward the painting. He wanted to see her again. No. He needed to see her again.

“Absurd,” he muttered as he stopped and turned back to his own bed. He glared at its emptiness. He had been planning to have several of ladies entertain him, but Calira’s attack had squashed that desire. He glared at the painting from his bed. He hoped Calira could feel his anger, but he knew by now she was asleep. He also knew she probably felt no remorse for disturbing his plans. Before he knew it, he was blaming her for the attempt on her life.

“Couldn’t she wait a couple of nights before being attacked? I mean,” he mumbled to himself. He was trying to rationalize the idea she was behind her own attack, but he knew better.

“Stupid Sarana,” he grumbled as he threw the blankets away from his body. He knew he could never get any sleep as long as these thoughts continued. He stomped to the painting and threw it and the door open. As he stood on the other side of the door that led in Calira’s room, he paused. If he went storming into her room, he had no doubt that Calira would murder him, quite literally. She was a trained assassin. He loudly knocked. He heard a soft thud before the door slowly opened.

“Alaric?” Calira’s voice was low and cautious. Alaric rolled his eyes.

“Yes, it’s me, you stupid woman,” he growled, still annoyed with her. Calira sighed in annoyance before opening the door fully. She glared at Alaric as he stared at her. He was caught off-guard by the appearance of Calira in nothing more than her nightgown. The cotton fabric hung loosely against her body.

“What do you want, you pompous fool? I was trying to sleep!” She snarled. Alaric frowned at her tone.

“Do you know why that assassin attacked you?”
 
“How many reasons do you need? I’ve got almost fifty,” Calira responded darkly. Alaric’s frown deepened as he stepped closer to his betrothed. In the dim light, her eyes seemed to sparkle with an ethereal power. It was bewitching.

“Give me the top three,” he drawled. Calira sighed.

“I’m now a princess and betrothed to the King. I am an assassin. I was an available target at the palace party,” she recited. Alaric moved closer. Calira watched his movements carefully.

“You didn’t arrange it yourself to prove a point?”

“Hardly. Besides if I was going to prove a point, I would’ve attacked you,” she replied honestly. Alaric scowled at her admittance.

“Would you attack me to prove a point?” He asked as he leaned toward her. Calira scoffed at the thought.

“Yes,” she responded easily. Alaric pulled away instantly with a look of astonishment. Calira smirked at the surprise look that spread across her betrothed features.

“What?” He growled.

“I attacked your father to prove a point. I will do the same for you,” Calira rationalized. Alaric stared at her.

“You attacked my father?”

“Yes. To train the guards. Which reminds me…” Calira’s eyes traveled to the desk in the corner of the room. She left Alaric fuming in the doorway as she made her way to the desk. She easily acquired some parchment from one of the drawers and dipped her pen into the available inkpot. Her pen skated across the scroll fluidly as Alaric watched her. He didn’t know what she was writing, but something told him he was in danger if he found out.