The King's Lost Sword [COMPLETED]

Chapter 8

C H A P T E R8 |
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One week after Adira's relapse she stood a few feet away from two very tall wooden doors that reminded her of the older ages. She steadied her breath and raised a hand to knock on the door but it opened before she had the chance.

A woman with sleek black hair had opened the door and motioned for Adira to enter. The woman wore a white suit that matched the older man she stood next to, both had their hair gelled back out of their face, and the man an unrolled scroll.

"Name?" The announcer asked, his voice was smoother than Adira thought it would be for his old age.

Adira rubbed her nose and gave the man one of her many aliases and waited for the second set of doors to open. She took another deep breath to compose herself. Just a few days earlier, Adira had gone through withdrawals, claiming to Allison that she had a horrible stomach bug, and ever since she'd been on edge.

The doors opened and the man announced her entrance. Nobody looked Adira's way as she walked down the flight of stairs into the ballroom, but she looked at everyone; she didn't have heightened senses, but her eyes took in every detail of every guest's face at a quick speed.

Adira hadn't yet noticed Darren but he'd noticed her. She was beautiful in his eyes. Her brown hair had been curled (Allison insisted) and rested short of her shoulders, her makeup was light and natural and blended in with her white skin, and she had bought a light pink dress with a frilled skirt. She'd been specific when describing the idea for the dress to the designer: no train (for that would danger her life in a fight, which was something Adira expected when one tried to murder another assassin), a corset that wasn't tight, and long sleeves (so she could hide a dagger or two under the fabric).

Adira descended the steps in glass heels, the King's Warrior Sword glinting with the fluorescent light out of the corner of her eye. She made her way to the white-clothed food and drink table. Her eyes glanced over the selection, her fingers itching for one of the honey pastries, but she settled on a glass of champagne. Adira wouldn't drink the liquid because even the smallest amount of alcohol could hinder her reflexes, but she still had to keep up appearances.

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The ballroom was one of the largest rooms within the King's castle and it was nearly filled with guests who were all excited for Prince Daniel's coordination. It had almost been two years since the King of Anthis had been murdered, leaving Queen Federic in charge of the kingdom. The residents who cared about appearances had been anxiously awaiting Prince Daniel's crowning and that day had finally arrived.

Adira leaned against the beige wall next to the drinks table, scanning the room. One of her feet was propped against the wall and it made her look very unladylike, but she was getting tired of waiting. And just as she was about to throw her (still full) glass of champagne at a wall, a tall and broad man approached the assassin.

His shoulder-length brown hair was slightly curled at their edges, and a jagged scar cut across his left eye and ran down the length of his neck before disappearing under his dress shirt. He grabbed one of the pastries Adira had been eyeing the entire night before he joined her at the wall.

"I thought assassins weren't supposed to drink on the job." He took a large bite out of the pastry, his left eye was bloodshot but his right was normal in color. It intrigued Adira.

The champagne had been raised to Adira's closed lips tonight more times than she had fingers, but none of it had run down her throat and made her tummy hot. Adira nodded her head to the glass in the man's hand with raised eyebrows.