The Assassin Princess

The First Morning

 

“I don’t know,” she answered coolly. A smirk spread across her betrothal’s face.

“You trust me!” He announced arrogantly. Calira easily squelched his smirk with a glare.

“Hardly. This entrance isn’t known to anyone other than you or me.”

“So? Someone could figure out that such an entrance exists,” Alaric argued as Calira shook her head. Alaric frowned. He felt somewhat annoyed that Calira had instantly crushed the idea that she would ever trust him. After all, they were going to be married soon. Trust was expected; at least, he thought so.  Calira seemed intent.  Alaric glared at her before brought her arms up to her chest. This relatively simple movement drew his attention to her overly-exposed bosom, again. He frowned at the cut of the navy blue dress she wore. The low décolleté was squared and seems to hug her plush cleavage. The dress’s cinched waist outlined the curve between her chest and her hips before flowing to the floor. Her curls were hung over her shoulders, but they did little to hide her creamy flesh.

“Is that something you’ve let slip in your orgies?” Her voice brought his attention back to her face which was set in a firm scowl. He frowned at her insinuation.

“Like I told you last night, Princess, I do not participate in orgies!” Alaric argued as Calira scoffed. Her blue eyes swept his scarcely dressed form and her scowl slipped into calculative frown. Her fiancée was handsome, even more so when half-exposed. His tanned skin seemed to glisten in the morning sun that streamed through her windows, even if he was half-hidden in the shadows. His dark curls were messy and hung in his face, obscuring his smoldering eyes.

Pity, Calira frowned as she heard her thought. She was not attracted to this rogue prince. She quickly shook herself of her train of thought before it took her to a place she was not ready to visit.

“And why are you not dressed? Your father called for our council this morning, remember?” She questioned to distract both of them. Alaric looked confused for a moment before realization dawned across his shadowed features. He looked down at his state of undress and frowned. He groaned as he turned to head back to his room.

“You’re right. Give me a few moments and then I will escort you to his chambers,” Alaric responded distantly as he disappeared down the dark corridor away from Calira. She sighed as she leaned against the wall. Her mind was tangled with thoughts of Alaric’s half-naked body and her upcoming duties as princess. She frowned at the thought. She still didn’t understand why Triscan would want to subject her to this life. She had been raised knowing what lurked in the shadows; now, was she just to ignore them? Let her guards worry about assassins and threats like so many did? She scoffed as she thought back to the assassination attempt from the previous night. Her mind retraced the assassin’s features. He didn’t look like any of the other assassin she had ever dealt with, but of course, she did look like an assassin herself. She moved to her desk and started to draw out his visage as she remembered every minute detail. By the time, Alaric returned, fully dressed, she had recreated his image with just some ink on a piece of parchment.

“What are you doing?” Alaric asked as he looked over her shoulder at the drawing. He was surprised by the skill and by the subject of the portrait.