Two-Faced (Assassin at Court Series Book 1) Read online

  Two-Faced

  ~

  Assassin at Court Series

  Nia Davenport

  Copyright © 2015 Nia Davenport

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1507868871

  ISBN-13: 978-1507868874

  Chapter 1

  I hid behind the dark tapestry until the girl left. My assignment was to take out the loathsome creature that paid for her services for the night, not her. I was a killer, but a discriminate one. She quickly pulled her sheath back on, took the money flung on the bedside dresser and left. It took everything in me not to vomit at what I just witnessed.

  As if the act of sex in exchange for money is not disgusting enough, the Lord whose quarters I remained hidden in for the last half hour was repulsive. He was a hundred pounds overweight with an ugly butted chin and in bad need of a shave, and a bath, and a haircut. Ugh! I inwardly groaned to myself. Whatever made me take this assignment? I was supposed to be on vacation. For two months to be exact. After all the blood I’d spilled during the previous year I had damned well-earned it and the nice sum collecting interest in my ledger accounts. But I have never been one to sit around twiddling her thumbs, and that is about all I did for the first two weeks of my vacation. There was not much to do in the small inner city of Arythmia when you were not working. I would have sailed to one of the outer lying islands or port cities, but Samael insisted I stay close. You never knew when you needed the most skilled assassin in the city.

  The repugnant Lord rose out of bed stark naked. I closed my eyes, using the darkness to block out the image. I silently counted to fifty, praying that it did not take him longer to pull on his over shirt and breeches. Thankfully, it did not. He was alone and dressed and it was finally show time. I became heady with the rush of adrenaline. I waited until his back was turned to me before stepping out of the shadows of the tapestry. I could take him with my hands tied behind my back, but the element of surprise would make things easier and more fun. The Lord gave a startled gasp when he realized he was not alone in the room, but he quickly recovered.

  “Did Madame Leroix gift me with a two for one special? It must be my lucky day.” He smiled lecherously as he moved toward me.

  It would be a cold day in hell before I allowed the pig to get close enough to touch me. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl. Without ever saying a word, I unsheathed the sharp throwing dagger hidden at my side. I launched it across the room with deadly accuracy. It embedded itself in the Lord’s jugular with a silent thud. Blood pooled around the blade as the wet gurgling sounds he made attempting to cry out for help exacerbated his bleeding out. Three minutes passed and the sounds died with him. I crossed the room, retrieved my dagger, and exited through the servants’ entrance.

  Chapter 2

  “Damn it, Skyler!” Samael’s fist slammed into the table. “Could you for once not leave a bloody mess behind when I send you to kill someone? Rumors about the amount of blood Lord Portier’s body was found lying in are running rampant around the city!”

  The vein throbbing at Samael’s temple was comical. I chuckled to myself quietly. Most people are terrified of the head of the Assassin’s Guild, but I know better. What Samael loves above all else is money, and he was too greedy to do me any real harm. I made him too much of it. Still, I schooled my face into cool neutrality. He might not kill me, but he also would not hesitate to make me pick my face up off the floor. Especially since we had an audience today.

  “With all due respect, Guild Master, my contract never specified a clean kill. My orders were to be quick and quiet.”

  Samael glared at me then stalked off muttering something about assassins and their bloody signatures. I finally cracked a grin at the irony in the statement. It quickly disappeared when the cloaked stranger sitting in the corner of the stood up and stepped forward. I had never seen him before, but menace radiated off of him in waves. He shed his cloak to reveal a face just as frightening as his aura. He was not necessarily ugly, but his eyes were as dark as coals and about as lifeless. I had no doubt the stranger would kill me where I sat if I angered or displeased him.

  “Your assignment,” his voice came out in a growl as he handed me an envelope. “There is triple your usual fee in the envelope, and I expect you to leave no later than night fall. You need to arrive in the royal city before the sun is up again. Oh, and Skyler, if this kill is not as bloodless as it is quiet, what you did to the Lord today will seem like a trip through paradise compared to what I will personally do to you.”

  The stranger’s eyes bored into mine and I saw myself being cut to shreds in their depths. A lump formed in my throat. I think I nodded my head, but my brain was not really capable of registering the movement at the time.

  “Open it, now!” He barked out then left the room.

  My heart beat again once he left and I had the sudden urge to kick myself and him. What the hell was wrong with me? I was the best assassin in Arythmia. No one else in the city came close to my skill. I did not cower in a chair like some pathetic, helpless, creature. Putting my bruised ego aside, I opened the envelope dark and scary left for me. I sat the stacked of bills aside and unfolded the thick white paper. It was blank except for a name scrawled elegantly across the middle. A lump formed in my throat a second time. I stared at the name of the King of Anthame’s only son and heir apparent. I tore the paper into tiny scraps as I cursed up a streak a mile wide. Since my rise to fame as Arythmia’s notorious assassin, I had purposefully stayed as far away from its sister city of Pleith. Whereas Arythmia was home to many of the High Noble families of Anthame, Pleith was its royal city and the home of its King. There were very few who knew my identity but if the King ever found out, he would hunt me to the ends of the world, and when he found me I would burn. The king liked assassins about as much as he liked traitors.

  I could refuse the contract, but to do so meant I was out of the Guild. Those were the rules. Accept the contracts you are given and be rewarded handsomely or have your employment terminated. The latter could not happen. A common girl with no family was easy prey and the equivalent of trash in Anthame’s low society. I did not necessarily enjoy killing people, but I enjoyed being vulnerable and starving on the streets even less. I swallowed the lump and set my mind to the task at hand. I was going to Pleith, and I was assassinating Anthame’s Crowned Prince.

  Chapter 3

  I made it to Pleith before sunrise as my benefactor, what I called the usually anonymous individuals who procured my services, insisted. I stopped at a small tavern on the outskirts of the city to pass the remaining hours of darkness in. I quietly rented a small room from the tavern owner’s wife and slipped to the upstairs sleeping quarters unnoticed. I was exhausted from the carriage ride. The noise of the horse’s hooves and the wheels grating over the rickety roads made it impossible for to get any sleep. I collapsed into the tiny bed that occupied a corner of the cramped room.

  The sun’s rays peeking in from a sliver of a window above the bed awoke me a few hours later too soon. I quickly washed and pulled a formal gown out of the small trunk I carried with me. For all of my tough as nails assassin persona, I was still a girl and I liked expensive, frilly dresses just as much as the next. I spent a decent amount of the earnings from fulfilling my contracts on them. I even employed a personal tailor whom I called upon to make me gorgeous dresses to my heart’s content. Not that I ever got to wear them anywhere. Professional assassins did not get invited to societal balls and grand events. It was a frivolous and useless weakness, but one I insisted on indulging in nevertheless. The soft dresses made me feel a little less hardened and I could pretend to be a normal seventeen year old,
if only for the fraction of time I had them on. My apprehension about my current assignment aside, it did give the dozens of dresses I collected over the past few years an opportunity to do something besides collect dust.

  Before leaving the room, I stopped in front of a mirror. I looked like I could actually pass for a high society girl in the flowing ruby corseted gown that was cut just low enough at the breast line to show off a teasing amount of cleavage. My hair was swept up into a neat bun and rubies glittered at my ears and around my neck. I bashfully smiled at my reflection. I knew I was not bad-looking but vanity had never been one of my sins. I left the tavern looking much more respectable than I did when I entered. If I was going to play the part of a high society young lady competing to wed Prince Edwin Alexander the Fifth of the House of Roth, I needed to look the part if I had a chance in hell of pulling off the deception.

  Chapter 4

  Ninety-nine other young girls from across the lands of Anthame stood around me in the grand receiving hall of the High Palace. My benefactor secured the one hundredth position for me. I had no idea what lengths he went through to pull it off, but I stood inside the High Palace as Skyler Emilia of House Alastair instead of just plain Skyler No Haughty Affiliation to Claim. Alastair is one of the lesser noble Houses whose lands sit at the far edges of the Kingdom in a provincial town that most people forget even existed. The fact that I was supposedly a distant relative of the House and submitted a bid to attend Court and compete for the Prince’s hand in marriage was laughable. I both pitied and scoffed at the girls around me who were actually taking the charade serious. I could not fathom why anyone would place themselves in such a demeaning position. They were like chattel presenting themselves for the picking of the House of Roth.

  A middle-aged woman wearing a fitted, floor length velvet gown that matched the amber brown of her eyes, appeared before them. The delicate crown that glittered atop her head left no doubt that she was Queen Elianora Maryse of the House of Roth. Every living soul present contorted their bodies into an exaggerated bow. I quickly followed suite, although a little belatedly. My peripheral sight caught the girl next to me smirking in my direction. Pretentious Bitch.

  The Queen gallantly waved her hand in our direction and we all rose on cue. “The House of Roth welcomes you to the High Palace, My Ladies. Today marks the commencement of a tradition that is as old as Anthame itself. It is time for my son, the heir to the House of Roth, Prince Edwin Alexander the Fifth, to find a suitable bride. You young ladies represent the best one hundred women of noble blood Anthame has to offer. You all will undergo a series of trials conducted by myself and my most trusted advisors. At the end of each trial, the young women who performed least successfully will be eliminated from the election process and sent home. Only five of you will make it through to the Elite group. If you should find yourself as one of the Elite, then you will be granted an audience with the Crowned Prince himself. He will elect the young lady he finds is best suited to be his bride. You have each been assigned one of the palace servants to help you through the various trials. Please find the servant whose nametag matches your House name and they will show you to your rooms. Freshen up, rest after your long journeys, and the first trial will commence this evening at six o’clock sharp in the formal dining hall.”

  At the end of her speech the queen turned on her heels and left with a trail of ladies-in-waiting following behind her. It pained me not to roll my eyes during a greater part of it. I managed to check the impulsive response. If I were disqualified, I would forfeit my position in the Assassin’s Guild as well. This was the best chance I had to get close enough to the Prince to quietly and neatly assassinate him. I found my ‘servant’ standing near the far end of the grand hall. She was a stocky brunette who reminded me of the mother I once had. It made me instantly like her.

  “Hello,” I cheerily called out to her. Several girls around me snickered. She quickly averted her gaze to the floor.

  “I will show you to your room, Miss Alastair.” She brushed past me, keeping her eyes downcast.

  My room was larger than the entire house I spent my childhood in. They consisted of a sitting parlor, a bedchamber and a super-sized bathroom complete with marble tiles and a porcelain tub. The bedchamber, I realized, had two plush beds instead of one. No sooner than I realized it, a short bubbly dark-haired beauty bounced into the room.

  “It is so exciting to have a roommate. I am an only child, I always wanted to know what it would be like to have sister!” She hugged me and I stiffened. I did not like uninvited contact. My hand inched toward the short sword strapped beneath my dress. I stopped it in mid reach. Bubbles must have sensed my discomfort because she took a few steps back. “I am so sorry. That was a total invasion of your personal space.”

  She looked so embarrassed by her actions, I decided take pity on her and let her off the hook. I smiled at her with what I thought was an amiable expression. Maybe I was a bit out of practice because she went from looking embarrassed to positively frightened. “It’s okay. I’m just not use to a lot of close contact. I’m kind of a germaphobe,” I lied. “But really, it’s okay. My name is Skyler. What’s yours?” I asked in my friendly voice.

  Bubbles seemed to relax a bit. “Emilia Katherina of House Freyberg, but my friends call me Emily,” she said the last part a bit bashfully as if in hopes she could consider me a friend.

  Despite the over the top perkiness, I decided I liked her. She was refreshingly non-snobbish. “Well, Emily, my second name is Emilia so I guess that means we were destined to be good friends.” I genuinely smiled at her this times.

  The last of the tension eased from her shoulders and she beamed back at me. “Nice to meet you Skyler.”

  Chapter 5

  “Hold still, Miss Skyler,” Abda scolded me. She lined my eyes with coal using an instrument that was as sharp as a needle to do so.

  Did she seriously expect me to be still when one tiny shake of her hand could mean my eye being gouged out?

  “Sorry, Abda,” I told her apologetically. She still tensed when I said her name. After spending the last four hours bathing me, and plucking at me, and combing knots out of my hair I did not even know were there, you would think she would be used to me calling her by her name. The first couple of times, she respectfully reminded me that ladies of noble houses did not address servants by their names. I respectfully informed her I thought the idea absurd. I had been calling her by her name ever since, and four hours later she still flinched as if I physically slapped her in the face every time.

  “All done Miss Skyler.” Abda looked so pleased with the final product of her work that curiosity made me check it out for myself. I turned to look in the mirror and what I saw stole my breath away. The girl looking back at me was not Skyler. My golden brown locks hung in long ringlets around my shoulders. My eyebrows were arched to perfection and my lips were painted a delicious cherry red. A whispered “thank you” was all I could manage to get out.

  Abda looked scandalized at my gratitude. She ushered me over to the dressing room and helped me into my gown, an emerald green fishtail design I paid a small fortune for. Just as she finished lacing the back of it up, Emily peeked her head in from our shared bedchamber.

  “Oh my Gods,” she squealed. “You look gorgeous Skyler! Everyone is going to be so jealous of you. I swear if the Prince saw you tonight, there would be no competition.”

  My cheeks heated at the compliment and I shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Are you ready to go downstairs? We can walk together?” I asked my roommate, changing the subject.

  “I am, but I’m not so sure I want to be seen beside you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You look every bit as gorgeous.” I did not say it to be nice. Emily was an olive-skinned beauty in a class all her. I linked arms with my roommate and newfound friend and we headed toward the first of our “trials.”

  Chapter 6

  The High Palace was massive. It was full of twists an
d turns and one endless hallway after another. We left our rooms in more than enough time to arrive in the formal dining hall by six o’clock. However, at the rate we were going we would be lucky if we found our way out of the hallway of mazes by midnight.

  “Oh no Skyler. We are going to be eliminated on the very first night all because we couldn’t make our way down a few flights of stairs.” Wetness shone in Emily’s eyes. I squeezed her hand reassuringly.

  “It will be alright. We have plenty of time still to make our way downstairs.” I was not nearly as confident as I sounded for her sake. How hard could it be to find a damn staircase? I was a professional assassin for Gods sake. I should have remembered the route I took to get to my rooms.

  We turned yet another corner to find two men in the red and gold robes of the palace guards sparring with broad swords.

  “Excuse me, can you point us in the direction of the grand dining hall?” I asked them. I was taken aback by how young they were. But I guess I should not have been too surprised. If I could be an assassin at seventeen and a hundred girls could compete to marry a Prince at seventeen, it was perfectly logical for one to be a palace guard at seventeen as well.

  The shorter of the two, an overly cocky jackass jeered at us. “What’s the matter ladies? Is it too hard for your pretty little heads to remember which staircase you came up?”

  He did not just say that. My hands curled into fists at my side. I could literally make him eat his words.

  The second guard punched him in his shoulder. “Shut up, Jacob. Don’t be rude. Forgive my friend, My Ladies,” he said turning to face us. “I keep telling him his manners are deplorable.” He grabbed Emily’s freehand and kissed the back of it. He did the same to mine, only his lips lingered on my flesh a bit longer than was appropriate. He smirked up at me, expecting me to be scandalized. I schooled my features into indifference. Shock colored his face at the unexpected reaction, but he quickly recovered his cool. “My name is Zander, and yours is?”