Don't believe them-
Cortova didn't desert.
The words scrawled on that note haunted Cass through the rest of the day's obligations, and well into the night as she stared at the darkened ceiling of Baz's bedroom. She had immediately burned the paper in the office's roaring fire, uncertain as to whom had left it, and well aware no one else in the guild needed to see it.
But if Lilia didn't desert, then what the hell happened?
And who in their right mind would have the balls to give her that note now?
Frustrated, she rolled over on her side, kicking off the blanket that now felt too smothering. The loose shirt of Baz's she wore to bed that night barely covered her backside, but the warmth of the room's fire kept her comfortable enough. It was those same roaring flames that held her attention as she tried to piece it all together, and in that moment, she discovered she was missing Baz more than anything.
Cortova didn't desert.
What did that mean?
And was it something she could even tell Baz about once he returned? He had so much to handle within the Guild already - that someone would dare to pass such information along to Cass, as false as it may be, would only further prove the unrest within the Guild. And that, in turn, would be one more thing for Baz to have to deal with, and he had so many other burdens to shoulder...
No, Cass would need to deal with it on her own.
Baz himself told Cass that Lilia's Mark was foiled at the Summer Solstice six months ago, and at first, the Guild supported Lilia's persistence- no one wanted a Mark left open without proper disposal. It would mean disbandment, or worse, should word ever get back.
Not to mention, it's what any decent assassin would do, and Lilia was more than decent.
She was the best.
Or, at least one of them.
But it had been six months.
There was no reason Lilia would have needed six months to meet her Mark. True, he was a Lord from a neighboring kingdom, known but not well enough to cause any underlying issues, or at least Cass would have thought. And he definitely was not someone Lilia would have needed to consider giving up everything.
Unless, of course, the other rumors were true.
She remembered the night of her Trial, and the conversation between the assassins below that had distracted her so.
The other rumors implied that Lilia Cortova, Second in Command of the Guild of Assassins of Lathos, had fallen in love with her foreign lord.
Cassandra would have considered it nothing more than a heinous joke if the facts didn't line up so perfectly.
Lady Cortova was a well-known silk merchant who inherited her business from her father. Lord Millian was new to his money, but still respected by those who knew him, and if the other rumors were correct, he was extremely attractive and more than ready to settle down.
Could Lilia have finally found her match?
And if that match was her Mark, was it enough to consider why she would desert? Rumor or not, that above all else pained Cass the most, in not knowing the truth. That her sister could have possibly left everything behind - left her behind - because she found someone else- someone better...
Don't believe them-
Cortova didn't desert.
If she didn't desert, then who should she believe?
Cass let out another aggravated growl, and she pulled the blanket off the bed up to her chin and rolled over, once again, to her other side.
Sleep would not come easily that night.
Cass must have eventually drifted off because she awoke to something.
Her eyes shot open, immediately focusing on the low-burning embers of the fire across the room as her ears searched out the source.
There it was again.
A rustle and a dull thud came from beyond the closed- and locked- door of Baz's quarters. Not that she didn't trust the other assassins within the Guild—in truth, she didn't think any of them trusted her. But that didn't change the fact she was still the interim Leader, and there were many, many others who believed a woman should never hold such a position of power, even temporarily.
And for that reason, she reached blindly for her dagger, resting on the bedside table as her eyes remained pinned on the room's door. Slowly, she gathered her legs underneath her, bringing herself into a crouching position on the bed as the noises on the other side of the locked door increased in their intensity and insistence.
Time seemed to stand still as Cass stared at the door, but she soon heard the familiar click of the door's locking mechanism, and her adrenaline rushed through her as she planted her feet, preparing to lunge herself into an attack.
Using the spring of the mattress to her advantage, she vaulted up and out towards the unexpected late-night visitor just as the door swung open on unoiled hinges.
Her heart pounded in her chest as her muscles moved of their own volition, pulling the unwelcome visitor to the floor before they could enter any further. She moved faster than her mind could follow, straddling the intruder's chest, bringing the dagger up to their neck, dragging the blade close enough to draw blood before she could ask any questions.
It wasn't until her eyes met familiar blue ones staring up at her, the scent of the individual between her legs matching the same of the shirt she wore- that the same arrogant, cocky smile matched her shocked gasp.
"I'm happy to see you haven't gotten sloppy in my absence," Baz murmured as the dagger remained at his throat.
Cass' hand almost shook as his voice resounded through the dark room, the shadows of the dying light playing off of his features as he lay below her.
"Baz," she gasped, barely moving the dagger from his throat before tossing it aside, bringing her hands to his cheeks and drawing his lips to hers in a desperate longing kiss.
She didn't realize how much she had missed him until that moment.
He wrapped his arms around her, returning the kiss fervently. "And you haven't burned the Guild down in the last week either- you might have found your calling after all," he mused against her lips, between their kiss.
Scowling, she pulled back from him just enough to meet his eyes. "If anything happened to the Guild, it would have been your fault for putting me in charge."
The Leader of the Guild of Assassins merely shrugged his shoulders from where he lay, that smile still on his face as he looked up at her. "I had the utmost confidence in your abilities. Now, unless you're going to take advantage of the position you have me in, will you allow me at least a moment to stand to regain my composure?"
But the gleam in his eyes told Cass he would have been more than happy to remain there on the floor, underneath her spread legs.
And as much as she would have enjoyed taking him up on that offer, she had too many questions she needed to ask him, too much that needed to be discussed before she could satisfy her own selfish needs. Reluctantly, she removed herself from her lover's chest, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and watched him as he stood, brushing himself off rather dramatically before he took a seat next to her.
"I didn't know when you'd be back. I could have just killed you now, you know."
"No, you couldn't have," he mused as he brought a hand up to her face, brushing a stray strand of her light hair back behind her ear. "You're doing well?"
Cass nodded, allowing herself to ease into his touch. "You didn't write..."
"I wish I had the time. I would have been back sooner but..." his voice trailed off, and Cass's attention was immediately on him.
"What happened with Lilia?" She would not allow the topic to linger any longer.
His eyes remained on hers as his hand came to cup her cheek. After a moment, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Cass."
Her heart dropped. "So, you found her? And it's true? She did desert?"
His gaze lingered on hers for a moment before he stood and walked over to the fireplace, looking as though he was ready to pace before he told his tale.
"I found her in the company of Lord Andro Millian, just as the rumors suggested."
Cass silently watched him as he spoke.
"I gave her the option, Cass - she could return with me the moment she made her mark, or she could remain where she was and forfeit everything as a deserter. Unfortunately, neither option was good enough for your sister."
The younger Cortova stared at him through the darkness. "What are you saying, Baz?"
He stopped his pacing, facing her fully. "She attacked me, in front of the Lord, his guards, my guards. She put up quite a fight, truth be told, but in the end..."
The blood drained from Cass's face as Baz returned to where she sat on the bed.
"I'm sorry, Cass," he assured her, his voice low, gentle. "I tried. But it was as though she was crazed - I couldn't make her see reason. No one could. And then she had her blade unsheathed..."
Cass didn't remember when she started shaking her head, as if she could unhear what he was trying to tell her, as if the images could be erased from her mind's eye.
"The guards overpowered her, but she wouldn't stop - she was relentless. She lunged with her knife at the wrong one... and met the end of his blade instead."
The tears came to Cass's eyes then, but she couldn't find the words. She couldn't find any words.
She didn't remember when Baz took her into his arms, but she remained there with her head buried into his shoulder as the sobs wracked her body.
Her sister was dead.
Cortova didn't desert.
It didn't seem to matter any longer.