The Scarlet Assassin

Chapter Two

I've always hated this room, its dark and ominous manner, but even more, I hated the King that sat upon the stone throne. He was tall but plump, having eaten probably half of Vadon's food supply by himself. His mustache curved upward perfectly, and his hair was gelled down tightly. His eyes, catlike and narrowed, looked me over as I stepped inside. He held up a single hand, and I froze.

"Please, child, do put away your sharp objects." A servant, dressed in the usual black tailcoat and white undershirt, came up from beside me, carrying a gold tray. I kept my eye contact with the king for a minute before turning and stripping myself of all my knives, setting them down one by one. The tray became heavy in the servant's hands until I could tell he was straining to lift it.

"Excuse me, darling," I muttered, setting a hand on the servant's shoulder to support me as I lifted my leg to reach the knife at my calf. It clattered with the others as I dropped it and turned back to the king. After only one step, he stopped me again.

"Don't play coy with me child. I'm not in the mood," he said in an irritated voice. I gave an exaggerated bow and pulled three small blades from my breast pocket.

"Of course not, my King," I said, reaching back and setting the knives on the limited space on the tray. The king raised a brow, and I huffed out a breath, pulling the last blade from behind my back, stuck in my waistband, and let it fall down to the tray.

He motioned me forward with two fingers, and I walked toward him, stopping a few feet from his throne. The silence rang out.

"Do you know why I called you here?" He finally asked.

"No." A pause as his eyes skimmed over me.

"Do you want to guess?"

"I was never fond of guessing games, Your Majesty," I said sourly. His hand twitched and froze its tapping along the arm of the throne. The tension in his shoulders heightened.

"I heard from a very reliable source that the Duke of Jurdet is dead." So this was about the oh-so-amazing duke. The messages must've been sent out right after he died and beaten me here, or the King has had tabs on me for a while now. Both were plausible.

"Oh, that's a pity. He was always so kind to me," I lied. The king seemed unfazed, but I noticed the weary marks on his face- the lines of restless sleep, the ones worn like medals in Vadon.

"Why did you kill the Duke, Vera?" His voice was soft, controlled, but I've known him for too long to fall for that act. He was slowly falling apart, slowly unhinging, and I savored every second of it.

"I don't know what you're talking about-."

"I was having you tailed. Don't lie to me." The vein in his forehead started bulging out, a thing I noticed happened when he lied. Damn hypocrite.

I knew following anyone was a challenge, especially when trekking through a noisy forest, but tracking me was near to impossible. From experience, I knew to go the more daring way, the less obvious way. Make them think, make them doubt.

"You're bluffing."

"Am I?"

"Yes, because I didn't do shit to a Duke. I was here, running my business. Ask any of my employees. They'll vouch for me." Suddenly, the King's lips tilted up into an eerie smile. He leaned forward. I saw the meat stuck between his teeth.

"I have." With a motion of his hands, the doors behind me flew open and a sound of a struggle echoed off the walls. I glanced back to see Emilian, one of my runners, being dragged in by two guards.

My face remained still, though the fury coursed through me. The King must've noticed this because his grin widened.

"We bribed him with 500 Eros and he spilled everything within seconds," he whispered, studying my face as Emilian was thrown onto his knees before me. He didn't meet my eyes. "About how you were gone for nearly two weeks abruptly and how you only just returned." My eyes blazed and I felt my lips curl. Moles were common amongst gangs, yes, but I hadn't suspected Emilian.