The Battle for Astodia Page 7

  My hair was loose around my shoulders as I threw the sword to the side. “Learn who you’re dealing with,” I said quietly and looked around to find everyone watching in awe. This was bad, but my ego had gotten the better of me.

  “Did you even try?” Lance exclaimed, laughing.

  “What can I say,” I smiled shyly, “I’ve had experience. Old bullies.” Lance was grinning from ear to ear as he reached out to Demetria to help her up. She slapped his hand away, and I raised my eyebrows. We watched her stalk off furiously.

  Lance turned to me and shook his head. “What have I brought home now?” I gave him a flamboyant smile.

  “I’m never doing that again,” I lay on my bed.

  “You were amazing.”

  “She’s going to murder me,” I groaned, stuffing my face into my pillow.

  “Not if you do that to her again,” Lance shrugged.

  “I can’t always dodge her. I probably got her by surprise this time, but if she gets a hold of me next time, she’ll tear me apart.”

  “Stay close to me then,” Lance suggested, and I pulled my

  face out of the pillow to look at him, raising my eyebrows.

  “Like that’ll help,” I glowered. “This is your fault.”

  “She won’t do anything to you as long as you’re with me. I

  won’t let her.”

  “She’s probably around you more than I’ll ever be,” I muttered, not meeting his eyes.

  “What are you talking about?”

  I gave him a sly smile.

  “Tell me.”

  “She likes you.”

  “What? No. Really?” He stared at me. “I was not expecting that.” His eyebrows were raised in surprise.

  I shrugged. “It does happen.”

  “You’ve had experience?” He grinned. “If not, I can help with that.” My eyes widened. As the heat traveled up my cheeks, he began to laugh again. “I’m kidding. Relax.”

  TEN

  I sat up, realizing I’d slept longer than I’d meant to. Ripping off my covers I walked to my wardrobe, threw the doors open, and grabbed the first thing I saw.

  A dress.

  It was a gentle, calming shade, soft and comfortable to the touch. It was figure-hugging above the waist, but the skirt was loose and wide enough to move around in.

  I shut the door behind me and peeked down the steps, not bothering to tie up my hair. I held up my skirts, annoyed that it was getting under my boots as I walked, and slowly stepped down the stairs.

  The rooms were empty. Everything was quiet. “Hello?” I whispered. No one answered.

  As I walked through the rooms, exploring, I could hear footsteps. Someone was following me.

  “Who’s there?” I called out bravely. The footsteps stopped. “Show yourself,” I commanded, taking five quick steps towards the sound when suddenly, I slammed into a figure who had made the same move. We both stumbled back.

  Regaining my position, I heard a small intake of breath.

  I looked up, confused for a second, and what I saw left me shocked.

  “You?” she whispered, covering her mouth. My eyes widened as I stared at the girl in horror. Slowly, everything began to piece together in my mind. It all made sense now.

  “You,” I hissed, grabbing her shoulders. Now it was all

  beginning to make sense. It was her. She’d poisoned Xavier, and then she escaped, coming back here.

  Lorelle.

  “I-I can explain!” she gasped, backing away.

  “No, no, no!” I groaned, running my hand through my hair. I turned, slamming the base of my fist against the wall. “No!”

  “Please, if you would just listen—”

  “You,” I growled, spinning around, reaching for her throat. She backed away into a corner, and I changed my direction, beginning to pace the room, trying not to rip my hair out.

  She could reveal my identity and position in the blink of an eye. Maybe if I got rid of her . . .

  “You traitor,” I hissed, grabbing her arm and dragging her into an empty room. She didn’t even try to pull away. She almost shrunk in size, avoiding my gaze as if that would save her.

  “You poisoned Xavier? How could you do something like that? Are you . . . .what were you thinking?”

  “I didn’t. I mean, I did—but you don’t get it,” her lip quivered, tears starting to pool in her eyes.

  “Oh, please,” I rolled my eyes, frustrated. I let go of her arm, taking deep breaths to calm myself.

  “Just hear me out.”

  “You have two minutes.”

  “Okay,” she said, blowing out through her lips. “Do you know why I’m here?” I didn’t bother to respond. She was the changed the invitations. The spy in the castle. The one who poisoned Xavier. “My mother is the leader,” she whispered.

  “What? I thought . . .” Now, I was even more surprised. I heard the king’s voice in my head. “Bring the leader’s child

  back as a hostage.”

  The leader’s child was Lorelle.

  “There are three leaders,” she breathed out. “One is my mother. The other one is a man, and the third is another woman. My aunt.” I rested my hand against the wall, bewildered. Her eyes were glistening with welled up tears. “Do you know why I had to do what I did?” she asked. I shook my head, unaware of what she was going to say. “My stepfather was the Duke of Dystalphi. The one you killed.”

  “I . . .” I was speechless.

  “For revenge, I was supposed to kill someone close to the king so he would suffer the same way . . . The same way we did. My mother ordered it,” she bit her lip, sighing shakily. “I poisoned Prince Xavier not because I wanted to, but if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have been welcomed back home. Yes, I was already at the castle before you kill—before my father was killed,” she corrected, her eyes trained on me, careful. “I’d been assigned there by my mother. She’s very strict. If I didn’t follow orders, she’d throw me out as a traitor.”

  All I could think was that Lorelle was an exceptional actress, having a friendly conversation with me and telling me she didn’t think I was such a bad person—all after I had killed her stepfather.

  I looked away from her face. She grabbed my arm.

  “I swear,” she said, her hands shaking, “I swear I didn’t want to hurt him. But I had to—like you had been ordered to kill all those other people.”

  I rested my back against the wall, sliding down as I tried to formulate a new plan. I held my head in my hands.

  I had to take her back to the castle as a hostage. A little part of me wished I hadn’t seen her here because I had murdered someone dear to her probably right in front of her eyes. Had she been in the ballroom the night I had poisoned him?

  Another, bigger part of me was relieved that I would get this over with quicker than I’d expected.

  She sat down next to me. She whispered, a large tear slipping down her cheek. “I never wanted this.”

  “You have no idea why I’m here.”

  “I don’t,” she shook her head. “I really don’t. Why are you here, Adalia?”

  “My name is Kristina,” I hissed. “And why I’m here is none of your business.” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “How long is the poison going to last?” I asked, trying to clear my head.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Mother gave it to me. I know it’s new. We tested it on some rats, but so far nothing involving . . . death,” she whispered, “has occurred. We’ve been working on the antidote in the labs underground.” She squeezed her eyes shut, pursing her lips as if she just realized she had said too much to calm me down.

  “Are you going to give me away?” I asked, getting to my feet.

  She exhaled.

  “I won’t. But please, please, don’t hurt any more of my people. Please, finish your business here, but if the king is planning something, give me a warning—at least this one time. You owe me that much.”

  Lorelle was smart. She knew what I was cap
able of, and

  she knew that if she exposed me, the king would destroy every last one of them—if I didn’t first.

  “Fine.” I clenched and unclenched my fists. “How much time does Xavier have?”

  She shrugged unhappily in response. “He has at least a week of misery left. The rats have lasted this long.”

  “I still can’t believe you did this.” I narrowed my eyes. “If I killed your father—stepfather—it was a quick and painless death. You’re putting Xavier through hell before he dies.”

  “I know,” she choked back a sob. “But I had to. I would never have wanted to put the prince through this. I . . . I really liked him.”

  “I don’t care what you wanted. You let this happen.” I didn’t care about what she was feeling or how much she regretted doing what she did. She had made the last few weeks a lot harder than they should’ve been for me.

  “I’m so sorry.” She buried her face in her hands, a teary mess. Was I sorry for killing her father along with so many others?

  Not really. Although, Lorelle seemed like a genuine person with real, real feelings. She had never been anything but kind to me. I bit the inside of my lip and stared at her for a moment. I surprised myself by saying, “Stop crying.”

  She looked up, her nose red and her sea blue eyes puffy. “What?”

  “Get up.” I held out a hand.

  She smiled through her tears and wiped her eyes. “So you aren’t going to kill me?” she joked.

  “No, not unless you say anything first,” I said to her.

  Suddenly, the door burst open.

  “Oh.” Lance stopped, looking at us both. Today, he wore a

  white tunic, his sleeves rolled up as usual above his elbows, and brown pants with clean boots. His brown hair looked messy in a nice way and his forest green eyes that shone like emeralds as they caught the rays of sunlight from the open windows. He lifted a gloved hand and pointed at us. “I see you two have met?”

  Lorelle nodded, her mood flipping completely. She was no longer crying but beaming at Lance, and I wondered if all of her tears had been an act as well.

  “Ad—I mean, Kristina—is quite amusing to be around.”

  Lance relaxed, keeping his eyes on her. “Right? She’s entertaining in her own way.”

  I grumbled, avoiding eye contact with Lorelle. My act was going to be hard to keep up with her around.

  “Where is everyone?” I said, running a hand through the small tangles of my hair.

  “Underground.”

  “What are they doing there?”

  “Having a meeting. I actually came to take Lor down, but I see you two are busy—”

  “I can come,” Lorelle said hurriedly. “Does my mother have anything to say to me?”

  “I’m not sure.” Lance’s eyes fell on me. “Would you like to come?”

  “Sure,” I shrugged. Lance turned away abruptly, walking out. I turned to Lorelle questioningly. “Why does he sound so nervous?”

  As they walked ahead of me, my thoughts went back to Xavier. Death came swiftly, sneaking up on a person without giving them a second chance to fix and rethink things.

  The pain would be killing him slowly, painfully.

  I had to complete my mission, and I didn’t care if it was Lorelle who I had to bring back with me. I wasn’t supposed to care or feel things.

  There was an ache, a dull throbbing in my chest. I had to make so many decisions and let down too many people.

  This was why King Sadim had put me through all that training, why he kept me in the dungeon for days if I refused an order or asked a wrong question . . . It was all for my benefit.

  A shiver ran up my spine when I thought of the dungeon.

  I could not fail. I could not . . . I didn’t want to go back there.

  The marks on my back began to burn as I thought of the wretched place.

  No.

  I could not fail this mission.

  The leader I’d met with Lance eyed me coldly as I walked in. I wondered if she was Lorelle’s mother—the one who had ordered for Xavier to be poisoned.

  “Why is she here?” she said out loud as if I wasn’t there. “Didn’t I specifically tell you not to bring her along?”

  “Mother,” Lorelle spoke up warmly, confirming my suspicions, “leave her be. This isn’t a life or death situation. It’s just one meeting.”

  “I’m watching you,” the leader said, her voice full of venom.

  Lance shot me an apologetic look and split away from us. Taking a deep breath, I followed Lorelle, feeling unwelcome. My black boots dug into the flat earth below my feet, the soft

  lime dress brushing my bare legs.

  I sat beside Lorelle. There were many tables in the area where most people were already seated, and in front of us, slightly more elevated than the rest, was a long table fit for three. This was where the leaders would sit, I assumed.

  The first leader, the one that seemed to dislike me greatly, had her eyes fixed on me. The second leader was an older man with hints of gray in his black hair, and a small scruffy beard. He was tall and must’ve been very handsome in his early years.

  The third leader, Lorelle’s aunt, was a blond. She was beautiful and not nearly as cold as Lorelle’s mother. Her eyes were a soft hazel, and she looked had a serious, yet calm, face. There was a secret softness tucked behind her features that made her seem trusting.

  Everyone took their places, and the meeting started.

  “As you know, one of our own was given the responsibility of taking the life of the Prince of Astodia in return for what they did to our leader—one of the many rebels that have been murdered by the king,” Lorelle’s mother began with coldness in her voice.

  Lorelle fidgeted uncomfortably beside me, looking at her hands folded in her lap.

  “She was successful, and she has made it back to us safely. That was a test that proved to us how easy it really is to breach the castle. They’ll never be able to distinguish between them and us. Also,” she paused for dramatic effect, “the prince will be dead very, very soon.” A murmur ran through the crowd.

  “Why not immediately?” someone yelled from the crowd. Hatred spun a web inside me. The rebel leader laughed coldly, her voice echoing throughout the room. “After the king sees the pain of his son for two continuous weeks, he will realize who he’s dealing with. To keep from losing more lives of the ones he loves, he will come to an agreement with us.”

  Everyone cheered, laughing, chortling; satisfied with the plan. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from spitting on the floor. My nails were digging into my palms, and I was waiting for the moment she would thoroughly piss me off so I could get up and punch her right in that smug face of hers. Lorelle realized this because she reached over and tugged on my sleeve. I looked back at the leader.

  “There’s nothing you can do, Adalia,” she whispered softly enough so that only I’d hear her. She wasn’t trying to convince me, I realized. She was trying to convince herself.

  Lorelle’s mother raised a goblet. “Now is the time we celebrate. Bring out the drinks!” She swept her arm towards the doors. Celebrate?

  “Excuse me!” I said, standing up abruptly. The chair almost tipped over, and I reached out automatically to steady it. My head was pounding and my stomach twisted in disgust. I glanced next to me to see Lorelle’s light eyes widen with horror.

  Silence fell over the whole room like a heavy blanket.

  All eyes were on me.

  “I just have one question,” I said, looking at the woman straight in her eyes. “The king, from what I’ve heard, only has one thing left in his life that is dear to him, and that is his very own son. What makes you think that he’ll try to come to terms with you after he realizes that you’re the ones who murdered his child? He’ll have nothing more to lose, and after the pain he’ll go through from this loss, what makes you think he’ll be willing to trust you? To work things out? He’ll turn against you even more than he already has. He�
��ll become more stubborn and more persistent to hunt you down. Didn’t you think this through?”

  I scanned everyone’s faces to find some nodding agreeably, some shaking their heads with disapproval, and others just confused. I sat back down, keeping my eyes on Lorelle’s mother.

  I figured she wasn’t happy. Judging by the looks on everyone’s faces, I realized that not many people would have done what I just did, and I’d just singled myself out.

  Great work, Assassin. Next time, why don’t you stand up and sing a song for them about the king’s love for his son? Dance a jig, how about? Or maybe, notify a pack of hungry wolves that you’ve got a bunch of delicious sheep stored under your clothes? How about that?

  “It’s not your place to decide what to do.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes were angry.

  “Is it? I thought this was a democracy. Do you decide or the people?”

  More people were nodding now, a slight buzz of awakening spreading through the tables.

  Her face stayed expressionless. “Who are you?”

  “I’m trying to help you understand that you’re making stupid, pointless moves.” Before she could respond, the male leader stood up.

  “You may sit down, Clarice,” he motioned to Lorelle’s mother. “This girl,” he nodded towards me, “raises a good point. And, like she said, we shouldn’t make a decision without consulting the rest of the group first.”

  A hum of approval rippled through the room.

  “All those in favors of the plan we have come up with, say

  aye.”

  Less than half the room muttered “Aye.”

  A look of understanding crossed his face. “We shall discuss this matter later,” he said after a few seconds. “For now, relax and enjoy your feast.”

  His eyes locked with mine, and I nodded. His bright blue eyes blinked and then turned away as people blocked my view of him.