He let his hands drop off the rails, facing me. “Adalia, he took a risk. He did something to make him seem dead to you. The antidote to whatever was done to his body was given after you left. Your mind was probably all over the place and you didn’t think to look any deeper than what your eyes could see. If this really is him,” Jax said to me, “that could be the only explanation.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why would he do that?”
“That’s something you’ll have to ask him yourself.”
Only a week had passed, and then the soldiers started riding through the streets. Women sobbed as their husbands were called from their homes. Men that proudly walked out to fight for their kingdom if they were needed.
“No young boys,” I’d told the princess. “No man too old to fight. Don’t take the sick ones. Ages seventeen and above, I’ll train. If more than half of the hair on their heads are gray, they’ll be sent back home.” I stood outside my small, barely-there house, and watched as the men were recruited. None of the guards stopped by me. They passed, as if the small home behind me was invisible to their eyes. I frowned. Jax lived here. He was old enough to fight.
“What’s going on?” Isabel asked, stepping down beside me. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were tired as she rubbed them.
“Where’s Jax?” I asked, my eyes set on one of the guards. He yanked one of the hesitant men out of his home in front of his children. His wife tried to push him away, but the guard held out an arm, knocking her to her knees.
“He’s asleep, but he won’t be for long.” She squinted. “Are you going to tell me what’s happening?”
“Wait here.” I walked inside, strapping on my belt and throwing on a cloak. I sheathed my sword and returned to the front, making my way towards the guard. I grabbed him by the collar, pulling him to face me. “If I see you get rough one more time, you won’t have any fingers left to grab someone again. We’re taking recruits to help our kingdom, not prisoners, do you understand me? Do you understand?”
The guard scowled, but didn’t argue further. They knew me all too well. I was to train all of them and assess their skills starting in a few days.
The man who was handled roughly smiled at me gratefully. He helped his wife up, and nodded at me.
“Thank you.” He bowed his head, making his way to his three children.
I turned, to find the guard mounted on his horse, waiting.
“What are you waiting for? Go knock on some more doors.” I smacked the horse’s rump and watched as it stamped its hoof impatiently. The guard pulled on the reins, and I waited until he disappeared behind another house.
“How did he listen to you?” Isabel asked from behind. “I thought he would knock you out, and then he turned and left.”
Uh-oh. Trying to think of a quick reply, I said, “I’m the assassin of Astodia. Everyone knows me.”
“Right, of course,” she smirked. “Should I bow, mighty assassin?”
“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes. “Let me make sure everyone else is doing alright. The princess is training an army in case of a threat. Crea needs trained fighters at the ready.”
“And how might you know all this information?”
“Word travels quickly. I stay out of the house for a reason.”
She blew air out through her lips. And then, her face became worried. “Jax?”
“Jax is alright, for now. Go inside and update him, please.” She nodded and turned on her heel. I untied Butternut from her post and slid on the saddle, mounting my horse. I whipped the reins, urging her forward. I watched from above as people stood out on the streets, pouring questions this way and that.
“Are we preparing for war?” a man shouted.
“Is Crea under attack?” an older woman asked as Butternut trotted past her.
“Will we all die?” a little girl said. I frowned at her as she followed me on my right.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “Move out of the way.” Suddenly, she ran, taking a turn in front of Butternut. She raised her hands as if trying to stop the horse. “Oh my—” I yanked hard on the reins, the bit biting into the corners of Butternut’s mouth. She stomped her hooves inches from the girl’s small feet. I pulled the horse to the side, away from her. “Why would you do that?”
“I dropped my doll,” she said, raising a tattered stuffed doll in a fading purple dress. Its fake blonde braid matched the girl’s hair.
A seven-year-old girl, throwing herself in front of a carriage to save her cat.
A shiver ran up my spine.
“Go home,” I told her. “You’re not safe out here.” And then I dug my heel into Butternut’s flank, urging her forward.
No more problems were faced after that—or at least, none that I witnessed.
When I met with Zinovia again, she was once more her happy self.
“It worked out just fine, didn’t it?” she asked with a smile, her dark hair braided in an elegant bun above her head. “The recruits are outside.” She pointed towards the window. I made my way to the decorated glass, pulling it open gently. Below were about a hundred and fifty men and women—some who volunteered themselves over. “They’re all yours.”
With a pang, I realized I was back where I started. In a kingdom, under a ruler, in charge. And then, “I finally got my hands on Cadeyrn.”
At the mention of his name, I spun around. “You what?”
“He’s here.” She motioned for the two guards to open the door, and they did. There he stood, cloaked, a smirk on his face and his golden eyes brighter than ever. He walked in.
“Your Highness,” he bowed. My throat tightened. Prince Xavier, bowing to royalty other than his father. Who knew this day would come?
“May . . . I have a moment with him, Your Highness?” I asked the princess. She nodded.
“Of course.” She excused herself, shutting the doors, guards following. We stood alone.
“Xavier,” I said. For some reason, I needed to hear his voice.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” His voice made me angry. Frustrated with him. I wanted to grab a chair and smash it in his perfect face.
I walked to him, painfully close. My chest ached.
“Why?” I asked. “How could you leave me stranded? Let me leave a kingdom, like that? How could you?” I whispered.
He turned his back to leave. I stood in front of him, blocking the exit.
“Start speaking. Now.”
Xavier scoffed. “I don’t have to answer to you.”
“Oh, are you so high and mighty now?” I sneered. “You left me standing beside you while you died in my arms. While I . . .” I trailed off, my cheeks pinking, “cried like a baby.” I tried to swallow my embarrassment away—but my cheeks flamed nonetheless.
Xavier rolled his gold eyes, his lips glued shut. I stomped my foot in frustration, because I couldn’t make a move at this point.
“At least tell me why,” I pressed. “Why did you pretend to die?”
“I did die. I already told you that.”
“Metaphorically speaking.”
Xavier laughed, tilting his head back slightly, and suddenly I knew him again. I found a smile on my lips, but his didn’t last long. It was replaced by a smirk.
“So you won’t speak?” I finally said. The sly smile stayed on his face, and I nodded. “Alright.” I put my hands on my hips. “Then I won’t leave.” He raised his eyebrows.
“Is that so? And when you get tired?”
“I will not.”
“Everyone gets tired, Assassin.”
“Stop calling me that,” I scowled. “And I don’t get tired. My body is trained for situations like this.”
The smirk was back on his lips. “Oh, is that so?”
My face heated again. “You sicken me.”
“My, how many times have I heard that,” he sighed. “Alright, do as you wish. We’ll stand here all night.”
I watched him carefully, making sure I didn’t miss a single thing. I c
rossed my arms over my chest, and Xavier did the same, keeping his eyes on mine, his head tilted slightly, waiting. Waiting for me to do something.
Minutes passed as we examined each other after years. He was so different, almost unrecognizable. Maybe he wasn’t Xavier. Maybe he was an imposter like Aiden, pretending to be Lance’s look-alike.
No. That was a different situation. This was Xavier. This was definitely Xavier. When I had brushed past him, I caught a whiff of his familiar scent; cinnamon and roses, under all the sweat and dirt from being outside all day. My face fell and I stared at him. He’d been a prince; never had he done heavy-duty work or fought his way to live. And now he was alone.
“Can I ask a question?” I asked, breaking the heavy silence.
“Of course, but I might not answer,” he shrugged nonchalantly.
I had to ask him a question to confirm my doubts. It had to be him. I thought far back to when everything was still fine; when I knew he was alive and well.
And then I said, “Where did you take me when I came back from the rebel base? When I—” I swallowed, “When I couldn’t spar with you. When Lance—”
“The lake,” he answered automatically, and then cursed himself under his breath for speaking. I was relieved, but at the same time I was even more confused. It didn’t make any sense. I needed answers. Slowly, I walked up to him. He tensed, freezing. He reminded me of a deer during a hunt when you stepped on a branch by mistake, bow ready in hand. Ready to shoot. That moment where you met its eyes and it seemed to say, “Has my time come?” And it braced itself, prepared to run.
I watched as he swallowed, uncomfortable.
“Why?”
Silence. “Adalia.”
“Yes?” I was finally going to get answers.
He held my arm, trying to find the right words to say. His grip tightened, fingers digging into my skin. He blinked once.
His eyes were cold like his features, his lips a straight line.
His grip on my forearm was cutting off circulation, and just when I thought they would fall off and I’d be left with a stump for an arm, he dropped his hands to his sides, and then brushed past me, his shoulder colliding with mine.
I gritted my teeth. I was supposed to be the angry one, not him. I wanted to throw a punch at his back, but I knew it wouldn’t help anything. So I let him walk away and shut the doors, leaving me to drown in my sorrows.
TWELVE
Seeing Xavier standing on the grounds lit a fire inside of me.
“How did you get here this fast?” I asked, squinting against the rays of the sun. He shrugged.
It was as if nothing had happened two days ago.
Do not warm towards him. Do not. He doesn’t deserve it.
I grumbled as I stood a few from him, stretching my arms and legs. We were waiting for the recruits, and they were definitely late. I balled my fists at my sides rolling my shoulders.
“Well.”
“What?” My head snapped towards him. “What did you just say?”
He shrugged again, raising his eyebrows. “You just haven’t changed, that’s all.” I stared him down.
How dare he? Haven’t changed?
“You should have your lips stitched shut,” I sneered.
“Why, dear Assassin? Don’t like the sound of my voice?”
He grinned, pulling off his cloak. He wore black pants and boots, an off-white tunic on top. His dark hair was messy, and he had on hand against his hip and the other on the black hilt of the sword at his side.
“Stop calling me that.” I cracked my neck, pulling my leg up behind to stretch. No, his lips couldn’t be stitched shut. I
did enjoy the sound of his voice.
“I’m sorry if I offended you, Assassin.” I let go of my ankle, looking at him over my shoulder. He winked.
Calm, Adalia. Calm.
He winked.
And then I broke. “Two years!” I shouted at him, looking around to find something to throw. I grabbed a rock, holding it so tight I felt the sharp edges cut against my skin. “Why would you dare show your face to me now?”
“This was my handsome year. I felt good, so I decided to show it off. Do you like it?” He pressed a hand against his cheek, and I raged. I would scream if I could without looking insane. Before I knew what I was doing, the rock was no longer in my hand, but flying towards his face.
He dodged.
I unsheathed my sword. “I hate you,” I spat with fury. My voice threw rocks harder than the one he’d just dodged. For a moment, the smile on his face slipped. I felt sweet revenge, like my words had finally hurt him, but at the same time, regret.
And then he unsheathed his sword.
I was panting. Furious. The clanging wouldn’t stop. Xavier was there, dodging, every one of my moves memorized. But I couldn’t dodge him.
It was as if he learned a completely new technique, just to throw me off. Or maybe I was too angry to think. “My life was ruined,” I pushed against him. He blocked my attacks, but wouldn’t fight back. His eyes were cold. “I thought it was my fault!” I shouted. I stopped, my hands shaking with anger. I let the sword hang from my hand, and then let it drop the floor. I was on my knees, pressing my palms to my eyes. “How could you do something like that?”
“Adalia . . .” He reached for my arm, but I pulled away.
“Don’t you dare talk to me,” I said, getting to my feet. I picked my sword off the ground, wiping at my eyes. “The recruits are going to be here soon.”
“They’re already here.” He pointed over my shoulder, and I turned around to see a group of people standing before us.
“Oh.” I cleared my throat, pushing a lock of dark hair behind my ear. I scratched the back of my neck. “Well, soldiers,” I called out, still pissed, “that was rule number one of our training. Never let your opponent get into your head.”
I was improvising, since the ex-prince had screwed with my head made me forget everything temporarily.
Xavier crossed his arms over his chest, a look of irritation crossing his face.
I walked in a circle around my pupils, almost in a vulture-like manner. I waved at a blond boy, motioning for him to come forward. He did so.
“Where’s your weapon?” I asked.
“I didn’t bring one.”
I groaned, pressing two fingers against my eyes.
“Alright,” I let my hands drop, unsheathing my sword. I handed it to him. “You attack, and I’ll block. Understood?” I waited for him to nod, and then proceeded with further instructions before my head was chopped off. I tapped the front of my boot against his ankle.
“Spread them a little more for balance,” I told him. He hung on to every word that left my lips, and then gripped the hilt of the sword, holding it at a tilt. “Swing.”
“I might decapitate you.”
I barked out a laugh. “Is that so? If you can decapitate me, I’ll make sure the princess crowns you king.” He raised his eyebrows, a determined look crossing over his face. He let out a deep breath, inhaled, and swung. Before he could get anywhere near my neck, I had ducked, making a quick escape behind him and pushed him to the ground. With a groan, he staggered to his feet. I smirked. “What’s your name?”
“Leo,” he murmured, his cheeks flushed.
“Good work, Leo,” I gave his shoulder a pat. Turning to the wide eyed soldiers-in-training, I squared my shoulders. “You’ll all be doing this exercise. The first skill to master is evading.” I heard a few startled gasps, and held in a laugh. “Lucky for you, the guards brought in a shipment of these.” I turned as a crate was hauled down and yanked open. Inside were long, heavy wooden sticks—perfect to replace a sword in training.
As if this would help them at all. No pain, no gain.
I split them into two groups; one group was full of fighters, and the others were the evaders. They would switch later on.
I tossed the sticks to the fighters, and then they started swiping at each other.
Feeli
ng accomplished, I took a step back and watched my small army throw sticks at each other. I felt Xavier’s presence beside me. Crossing my arms over my shoulder, I nodded towards them. “Just remember that they have no experience on the battlefield. Don’t push them too hard.”
“You’re a good teacher,” Xavier observed.
“Don’t,” I held up a hand, my face stone cold. “From this point on, we don’t know each other. We’re two fighters helping the princess, and that’s all. Am I understood?”
Xavier sighed. “Understood.”
With each passing day, Zinovia fell deeper in despair. Her dresses didn’t seem to be doing her stress any good either.
She squeezed her hands against her corset. “Our ties have been cut with Dystalphi.”
I swallowed at the news. Dystalphi felt threatened at this new alliance between the two kingdoms, and King Adrean would be doing his best right now to pull Trella under his reign. “Any word from Trella?”
“No.” She tugged on a lock of dark hair. “I’m worried. I haven’t heard from our ship for days. I don’t know if they’re lost, or captured by pirates, but I’m losing good men trying to get word overseas.” Her eyebrows were knit with worry. “I feel like I’ve already lost this ‘war’. If Trella chooses Dystalphi, their union will destroy us.”
“Have you tried to make peace with Dystalphi?”
Zinovia’s pressed her fingers to her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Yes.” I waited for her to go on. “After my father died, I noticed a change in King Adrean’s letters. He seemed reluctant, as if he was trying to get as far from Crea as possible. A few days ago, my suspicions were confirmed,” Zinovia said.
“What suspicions?”
“King Adrean is against my rule. He believes I am unfit to be queen. I know this because he’s been very . . . vocal about his views. Rumors pass quickly, Adalia. You of all people know that.”
“But he’s alright with Queen Lorelle,” I pointed out.
“As I mentioned before, Astodia is a strong kingdom. Lorelle may be under pressure, but she’s doing well building up strong forces. I’m sure he doesn’t want to pick a fight with her alone.”
The Four Kingdoms Page 8
