The Assassin Princess

The First Night

“Sarana!” He called out. Calira looked up as she replaced her pen. Alaric eyed the scroll with disquiet. Calira smirked when she noticed his line of sight.

“Don’t worry, you’re majesty. You won’t die,” She commented as she picked up the scroll and made her way back to the uneasy man.

“That’s comforting,” he sneered as she handed him the scroll.

“You can sleep easy for tonight. I won’t attack you till I’m well rested and have informed the guards. That letter is not to be opened until your attack,” She ordered as she brushed a stray curl away from her tired eyes.

“Now will you please go away so I can get to sleep?” Calira asked as she let a yawn escape from between her lips. Alaric watched the motion for a second before nodding and turning around. He heard her close the door behind him and he sighed. He felt cheated. Honestly, he didn’t know what he had expected to happen, but it certainly was not this.  

**

The morning crept up on Calira and she had the urge to stab it in the eye with the dagger she had hidden under her pillow. She heard the handles to her door shake and then the door itself shake as she groaned against her pillow.

“Idiots,” she growled as she heard someone slam their bodyweight against her door. She deftly climbed to her feet and trekked across her bedroom to open the door.

“What?” She hissed as she faced the guards and maids that stood outside her door.

“Pardon us, milady. Your door was locked and after yesterday’s incident, we were just─”

“Just being idiots. I locked my door for that exact reason,” Calira responded, annoyed. The guards looked sheepish at her excuse.

“Why don’t you go disturb the new King? I think he’s earned it,” Calira growled as she slammed the door shut. The maids stuttered as the guards groaned.

“She’s going to be one of those queens,” one muttered lowly as the others shook their head.

“Why did we assume otherwise?” One of the maids remarked as they all walked away. Calira sighed as she leaned her weight against the door. If only they knew how truly unfit she was to be queen, she thought bitterly. She let the back of her head rest against the door.

“She told you to do what?” Alaric growled as he stared at the guards who sheepishly stood outside his chamber doors.

“She told us not to disturb her and wake you instead, you’re majesty,” the bolder of the two men answered. Alaric groaned as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll speak with her. She can’t really expect you to just stop doing your jobs, can she?” Alana asked rhetorically. The two guards looked grateful before they left the new king to his own devices. Alaric looked toward the painting that hid the passageway to Calira’s room. He knew she wouldn’t want to see him, especially not so early in the morning, but he needed to set some guidelines for the new soon-to-be Queen. He pulled on a pair of trousers and made his way to Calira’s room. He paused outside the door. He could hear her shuffling on the other side. He assumed she was getting dressed. Instead of barging in as he should’ve done, he waited. Just as he moved to knock on the door, it was flung open and he was surprised to see a fully dressed Calira.

“What do you want?” She growled as she folded her arms across her chest. The movement proved to distract the King from his original motive for confronting the blonde. His attention was drawn to her chest which was drawing up and down with each silent breath she took.

“Are you going to answer my question, you’re uselessness?” Calira’s cold voice drew him eyes from her chest to her face. Her lips were set in a firm line as her eyebrow quirked in impatience.

“You told the guards to disturb me before disturbing you,” he pointed out in a matter of fact tone.

“Yes. They were banging and beating on my door this morning. Obviously if I don’t answer the door, I don’t want to be disturbed,” she replied darkly.

“Or you’re dead,” Alaric growled. His fists clenched together at his sides as he thought of it. Calira scoffed at the thought.

“If that is the case, then you will be free of this farce of a marriage,” she responded disdainfully. A brief flash of vulnerability skated across Calira’s features before she hardened them. Alaric couldn’t even be sure it was vulnerability.

“I do not want you dead,” Alaric admitted. Calira scoffed again.

“Sure you don’t. You also don’t like that Countess you were drooling over last night,” Calira hissed.

“Countess Dubare is married, as well you know,” Alaric replied with a shrug.

“Didn’t seem to stop either of you last night,” Calira muttered darkly. Alaric opened his mouth to rebut her observation, but realized it was true. In fact, it was Countess Dubare who had thrown herself at him when the celebration had begun.

“I cannot help it that women find me irresistible,” Alaric finally responded as Calira shook her head.

“They find the crown irresistible.  You could be a balding, fat idiot and they’d still flock over you because you’re now king. Don’t forget that,” Calira remarked before she moved to shut the door in the new king’s face. His foot stopped it and she groaned.

“I wasn’t done, woman,” Alaric growled as he pushed the door open.

“You will not stop…” Alaric paused in his tirade as he studied her room. She had blocked every viable entrance and rigged the windows. The only entrance he saw she had left alone was the one he had come through. Calira frowned when he turned to her with disbelief written across his handsome features.

“What?” She growled as she clenched her fists at her sides.

“Why didn’t you block this door like the others?” He asked suddenly. Calira tilted her head to the side before shrugging.

“I don’t know,” she answered coolly.