The Scarlet Assassin

Chapter Seven

A hundred or so years ago, to prevent an outright dictatorship, the leader of the time created the Core Defense. It kept the king from making quick and rash decisions that could suffocate the country. It's made of two branches -the Panel and the Guardians. The Panel was made up of six advocates for each of Ravaryn's provinces, running laws through the king and vice versa, while the Guardians kept the peace. They enforced, imposed, and endorsed the laws the Panel makes, and over the years, it'd gotten more difficult to go undetected. I felt the noose they'd started to string around my neck tightening.

Sorin pulled the flask from his jacket pocket and threw it on the table. "This is enough evidence." I snatched it before it hit my coffee.

"Will you stop throwing things around?! Damn!" Slamming the flask down on the table, I righted myself. "If you want to go to the king, be my guest. But don't blame me when he punishes your scrawny ass for drinking on the job and letting your guard down. He may throw you into the dungeons just to let his anger out. Plus, the drug is already out of your system and untraceable in the drink, and I have many witnesses that will testify that you were drunk out of your mind and left without me. As far as anyone knows, I clocked out ten minutes prior to you, and you, drunk, followed me home then blacked out. You can't prove I gave you the flask, you can't prove you drank a drug, and even the king can't deny the evidence stacked against you."

Sorin took a surprised step back, his skin pale. All the color from his tanned skin drained as it sank in that I was right. Watching his eyes narrow, I stared at him, watching how his finger ran across the pad of his hand anxiously. "Well, you've just thought of everything haven't you?" He seethed.

"Yes," I whispered, "that's what makes me good." We stared at each other for a while, neither of us wanting to be the first to break away. From the humidity, a bead of sweat dripped from his brow down his cheek. Then, suddenly, he stormed out without another word and slammed the door behind him.

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Two days went by. It was midnight, and I'd snuck out of my room, recruiting Fallon to move around every few hours so Sorin -still giving me silent treatment- didn't get suspicious and try to follow. If he knew I had agreed to help the daughter of his boss go against him, the Guardians would be at my door within hours. I'd be dead within days.

Underneath the Viper's Den, there was a training floor, hidden from the general public. Sometimes when money was tight, I'd host fight nights, bloody and expensive to get into, to get us back into business, but usually, it's just a training basement. On the North wall, there was an array of knives as well as other weapons used for close-range combat and different holsters and sheaths. The middle of the floor had a simple mat for sparring, but with the air being so damp, the edges of the mat were beginning to mold. There were only a few light fixtures, lanterns hanging from the ceiling and lining the walls, so the room was dark adding to the ominous feeling. Beside me, Princess Sophrinia shuddered.

"Not exactly what you were expecting?" I asked, not looking her way but instead to Rafe, setting up the arena. She dropped her cloak to the ground, revealing a riding outfit, probably the best she could get. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, and her face was freshly cleaned and bare.

She stepped forward uneasily. "Not necessarily." A pause. "Who did you say was training me?" I finally looked at her, studying how she examined Rafe curiously. His sleeves were yet again rolled up, his pale skin gleaming under the yellow light and his hair slicked over his forehead. He was concentrated -so concentrated he hadn't even noticed us entering.

I watched the princess's stares and said, "Rafe, come meet the princess formally." He glanced toward us then soundlessly made his way to me. I swayed my head to him. "Rafe, this is Princess Sophronia. Princess Sophrionia, this is Rafael or Rafe, whichever you prefer. I don't care. He's your trainer." Rafe, much like the princess, looked her over with an inquisitive gaze then took her hand and shook it formally. She gave him a small smile. Their hands stayed connected.