I go back to the moment Cordae began teaching me . . .
He holds a sword in my face, waiting for me to take the handle and duel him. I do not want to. I cannot fight, and he will surely kill me. But he may do that anyway. I take the sword and almost drop it, not realizing it would be so heavy.
“This sword will become your lifeline, Derrick. Use it—defend yourself. Prove to me that you want to live.” Cordae unsheathes his own sword.
I use both hands to hold the sword up as I prepare to defend myself to the best of my ability. I do want to live because one day, I will escape him, I will be free, and I will make him pay for what he has done.
The memory hits me harder than I expected. Lily has me trapped, my blade stuck against hers. I almost back out just to clear my head, but this woman will never let me live it down if I let her get the best of me.
I swing my arm around, breaking out of the lock and going for the winning jab when she blocks me. It becomes a dance as she advances while I back away until I get my bearings and begin advancing on her.
Gavin pushes, putting everything I know to the test in one duel. It angers me in a way nothing else could. How does he know so much about sword fighting? Elian and I have trained most of our lives, and my own brother can’t beat me despite learning alongside me.
But this? Gavin is immaculate in his ability to maneuver out of every situation. Once I almost had him, almost won, but he waited until the very last second to push me away and cause me to backtrack.
With the taunting beforehand, I can’t allow him to win. He would be able to use it against me forever. I regret laughing earlier when he told me we would start with a sword fight. I can’t imagine what he will teach me with the other weapons if there is more he can teach me with the sword.
He knocks the sword from my grasp. His arm goes around my waist as he pulls me closer, stopping me from retrieving it and stabbing him with it. I breathe heavily, as does he. “You are quite skilled, but you have much to learn.” He smiles.
“Thank you.” I look up at him, never realizing before how much taller he stands. He leans closer. “But you haven’t defeated me yet.” I wave my hand, using my magic to control my sword, which appears at his throat.
“That’s cheating, Princess.” His laugh is shaky.
“Hardly.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“No? I hope you realize that if I were your enemy, and this was a real duel, you would never have gotten the chance to use your magic.” His eyes grow darker, his stare more intense. His voice deeper. I look down and see the tip of his blade a hair’’s length away from my stomach.
I scowl, allowing my sword to fall to the ground.
He laughs and steps away.
I know I brought it upon myself but I can’t help the annoyance that pesters me. How is it that this man can irritate me so much, yet all the while, I just want to spend more time with him?
“So, what’s next?” I stoop and pick up my fallen sword, sheathing it.
“You know, I do actually have to get some work done, Princess. Unless you wish to have my job here changed to weapons instructor?” He raises an eyebrow, a teasing smirk on his lips.
“That could be arranged.” I shrug, as if it were no big deal. To be truthful, I could probably have it changed, but I wouldn’t want to for the most selfish of reasons——I want him to myself. If he were an instructor, his time would be spent with the soldiers, with Elian, and not with me.
“It is probably best that for now, I stay where I am. But that means I must do the jobs Hera gives me, no matter how absurd they may be.” I cock my head to the side.
“Oh?”
“Does the castle not have a royal gardener? Someone whose sole job is to take care of the vegetation? Is there not a stable boy to muck out the stalls? Is there not a carpenter who can repair damaged beams? Why is Hera adamant that I do chores that do not belong to a lowly servant?”
“I suppose I had not thought of that. Perhaps she is testing you, seeing if you are trustworthy of the important tasks, such as serving the king his food. I am sure she has an explanation, but I can hardly complain. If you were serving the king his food, how would you teach me to use all these weapons?” I gesture to the bow and quiver, the swords, and the row of knives I’ve laid out.
“Fair enough, Princess. Have you ever thrown those?” He looks at the knives.
“No. Are you going to teach me?” I smile just at the thought. I can’t bring myself to feel guilty that I am keeping him from his duties. What could Hera do to him if he is doing my bidding rather than hers?
“I will show you. Then you must promise to let me work.” He shakes his head, dropping his axe and picking up a knife in each hand.
He aims for a tree closer to the fence, away from anything or anyone it could potentially hurt. “You want to stand with your legs apart to give you power and traction. You’ll carefully hold the blade with your thumb and forefinger. Hold it level to your head, and extend your arm as you release.” He demonstrates, not looking at his target, but at me as the knife leaves his hand and hits the center of the tree.
“Quite impressive, but you don’t need to show off.” I pick up a knife and take his place, standing as he stood, aiming as he aimed. I release the knife and watch it sail through the air only to bounce off the tree and fall in the grass.
“What happened?” I look at Gavin.
“Everything was perfect except the way you held your arm. It threw everything off balance. Here.” He grabs another knife, sliding it into my hand. He stands behind me, using his knees to knock my legs into place. He holds my arm, positioning it correctly, throwing the knife with me.
It sails true and lands in the tree with a thud. “Thank you!” I turn around and put my arms around his neck. A feeling akin to magic goes through me, making my entire body seem to float. My lips spread thin, stretching across my face in an undeniable smile.
His arms slowly wrap around me, his hands gently patting my back. “You’re welcome,” he stammers.
“Sorry,” I mumble and try to break away.
“No, it just took me by surprise.” He pulls me a little closer, hugging me a little tighter. “I can’t remember the last time someone has pulled me into their embrace.”
“That is unfortunate.” I look away, unsure how to respond.
“Life can be that way sometimes. All I can do is continue surviving.” He smiles, perhaps sensing my tension, and lets me go.
“So, are my lessons over for the day?” I ask, watching him walk back to where he left the axe. He picks it up.
“Hardly. I will cut down these trees, and you will throw knives at those trees in the opposite direction.” He uses the tool in his hand as an extension to point to the knives.
I pick up another one, waiting for him to begin cutting down the next tree before I take aim and let the knife go. It sticks in the tree, but only barely. The next one I throw hits the tree, causing the previous knife to fall out, and they both land in the grass below.
I throw the last one, getting it in the tree, but only barely.
“You can’t expect to have it perfected on your first day, Princess. It will take time. Learn the movements—find the pattern that works best. Let it come naturally as you learn the technique,” Gavin calls out as I walk toward my target to retrieve the blades.
I should know from all my years of sword fighting that it most definitely does not come right away. I sigh, my shoulders drooping as I walk back to the other weapons.
“Good afternoon!” Elian approaches, a grin stretched wide across his face.
I know that grin all too well. It’s his teasing smile. His taunting look. He finds it funny that I’m out here with Gavin, but his teasing can’t get my mood down today.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness.” Gavin bows.
“Gavin, seriously. It’s Elian. No need to address him so formally. How many times must we go over this?” I laugh.
“It’s true, my friend. She
is right.” Elian agrees.
“Of course. My apologies,” Gavin says, now looking uncomfortable. He turns back to the tree he was cutting down.
“What are you doing?” Elian asks me.
“Gavin is teaching me to master weapons other than the sword. What are you doing?” I look back to my target and take aim with the throwing knife.
“Wondering what in the blazes Gavin is thinking, giving you more weapons. Does he not know how dangerous you already are?”
I don’t know if Elian means it, or if he is only trying to make it sound better than I am, but it makes me smile. That grin fades when I think of the duel Gavin and I just had.
“Yes, he is aware of how dangerous I am. Now go away before I slip and put a knife in you.” I make sure my aim is ready. I let loose and watch the knife sail right into the tree.
“Very well done,” Gavin praises.
“Thank you. I had an excellent teacher.” I curtsy.
“I have to say, Gavin, that is impressive. You taught her to do that in a single lesson?” Elian folds his arms across his chest and looks between myself, Gavin, and the tree.
“She just needed a little guidance.” He looks at me before turning back and hacking away at the tree.
“Well, I hate to pull you away from your training, Lily, but Mother has requested that you come inside and begin getting ready for the feast tonight.”
I look at the weapons sitting on the ground at my feet, then at Gavin. “Must I?”
“Yes, you must.” Elian laughs.
“It’s all right—you know where to find me, Lily. We can have another lesson tomorrow,” Gavin assures me.
“You should come to the feast,” I suggest, realizing that it’s not just the lessons I don’t want to leave.
“Truly, do you hate me? Hera already has it out for me, as I’ve told you numerous times. I think it would be best if I continue working. But thank you.”
I laugh. “You do realize I am above Hera, right? She can’t be mad at you for doing my bidding.”
“Still, I would like to get this task finished.” He smiles.
“Very well. Thank you for the lesson.” I kiss his cheek before dashing off, Elian right behind me.
“Well, that was sweet.” Elian chuckles.
“Shut up,” I say, not wanting to deal with his endless teasing. “Let Mother know I’ll be right there. First, there is something I must do.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Elian retorts with mockery.
He enters the castle and disappears. I go to the kitchen. “Good afternoon, milady,” Tolla greets me.
“Where is Hera?” I demand.
“Right here, Princess. Whatever is the matter?” Hera asks, coming around the corner.
“We need to talk. Privately.” I look around the busy kitchen filled with maids and servants.
“Of course.” Hera leads the way back outside, but turns right and goes to the gardens. I follow after her. “What’s the matter?”
“Why are you giving Gavin tasks such as clearing the trees, mucking out horse stalls, and fixing broken beams? Why is he not serving inside?”
“To be honest, Your Highness, I don’t trust him. There is something going on, and I don’t like the idea of him being near anything that could be of importance. Were you aware that one day before he rescued you, he was here asking for a job?”
“Why is that anything of concern? He rescued me, and for reward, asked for a home and a job. Clearly, it is something he needed.”
“So you don’t find it odd even the slightest bit that I deny him work inside the castle, and the following afternoon, you are thrown from your horse into a river, and he just magically appears to save you?”
Having the pieces connected in such a way does make it seem odd. But could it be that he isn’t who he says he is? He hasn’t tried to work inside the castle. He hasn’t harmed me. He even went hunting with my family.
He didn’t harm any of them when he easily could have done so. He hasn’t asked me a single question regarding secrets or anything about the kingdom, or Father’s plans.
“It may seem a bit odd, but could it not just be a coincidence?”
“It might be. But until I’m certain, I would prefer he remain as far away from the castle as possible.”
I watch her go until she and Elian disappear from view. I turn and get back to my task, putting more force behind each blow, hoping to finish this grove before nightfall.
Tonight I must explore the castle, find the king’s study, and break in while he and everyone else are at the feast. Today I must do my chores because tonight, I will not be able to do anything for Hera.
I wait for the last lantern to be put out before slipping from my cold, hard bed and sneak down the servant tunnels. I opt out of putting on shoes, knowing I will be able to more easily avoid any squeaking floors without them. Though, it does make for a harder getaway if I am caught.
The idea is laughable, though. I’ve never been caught. Not once. If I am sent to kill someone, they die. It’s how it works. No one has escaped my arrow, my blade.
The tunnels are long and cold, a draft blowing through them. I walk, feeling the wall in case there are any hidden doors. When I come upon the first one, I push gently, not wanting it to swing open all the way in case someone occupies the room where it leads.
I am disappointed to find a mostly empty room. No information to go through. In the dark, I am unable to make out the shapes against the opposite wall, even holding up my lamp.
It is not the king’s study, so it is of no use to me. I shake my head and step back into the tunnels. I continue walking until I come upon the second door.
It is far less hidden then the first, which means it could hardly be something of importance, but I push the door open anyway. Inside is a private prayer room. I go in a little farther, holding the light higher to see more.
Not one but two more doors lead outside the room. I don’t bother opening either one, as they will most likely lead nowhere. I take another glance around, memorizing the layout before closing the door and continuing my search.
I walk much farther, turning a corner, and continuing on. A sconce in the wall catches my attention. It is set over a line that runs from floor to ceiling. I push against the wall, to no avail.
I pull on the sconce, but it doesn’t move either. I examine every bit of the wall, running my fingers over the cold brick. Nothing stands out to me that would work as a lever or handle, but there has to be one. There is no other explanation.
I take a step back, rocking on my heels as I carefully look over the wall from afar. There’s a single brick that is slightly darker than the rest, hardly noticeable unless you’re looking for something.
I take a step forward and press on the brick. There’s a popping sound, and part of the wall moves. I smirk and enter the room, looking around the corner as I go through the doorway.
There is no person inside, but rows and rows of weapons greet me. It’s a pleasant sight—something I’m used to seeing.
The memory of entering my first armory hits me so hard, it is as if someone ran into me.
Eight years old, I followed Cordae down a large corridor, sconces lighting our way. He sent the big ugly man, Saar, to do something else while he showed me something special. My heart pounded as I followed, terrified of what he was about to show me. I clenched my fists, sweat making them slick, as we walked.
Cordae had a grin going from ear to ear as he marched to the room. Two large doors faced us at the end of the hall. My heart pounded a little faster, wondering what could be so special—and large—that they kept it behind such doors.
“Derrick,” he said the name, looking at me. It made me sick, knowing that was what I must answer to, but I looked up at him. “Welcome to your new playground.”” The doors swung open of their own accord, and I wondered if they were magic.
But when I looked inside, I realized it was no playground. It was dangerous. We entered the room. Sword
s of every kind, from every kingdom, for every kind of use, lined the walls and filled the middle of the room on stands.
A row of daggers, different knives, and all of it scared me. All but the curved piece of wood that remained harmless until someone attached a string to it. Then it became a weapon, a bow. It was what my father used for hunting.
At the memory of hunting with him, tears filled my eyes. I would never hunt with him again. I walked to the bow, a single weapon sitting all alone on its stand. I could barely reach the weapon, but I stood on my toes and hefted it down.
I turned to face Cordae, fearful that he would not approve of the weapon that called to me. Perhaps he would think it was silly—maybe he would know why I chose it. I shook the thoughts away, knowing I must show no fear.
“Excellent choice, Derrick. With that weapon, you will change the world.” He patted my head in an affectionate manner and smiled an ugly smile.
“Th—th—thank you,” I stammered.
“Are you ready to learn how to use it?” Cordae was far too eager when he asked, giving me pause. Unable to speak, not quite sure what to say, I nodded. “Good. Follow me.”” He led me to the back of the room and pushed open a single door.
He stood to the side and allowed me to see what was beyond him. At the sight, I froze. I was unable to hold on to the weapon in my hands.
The room had a roof and four walls, but it was a forest. Targets were painted on the trees, wooden figures playing the part of the enemy.
“Derrick, learn quickly. The best fighter wins every time.” Without waiting for me to react in any way, he pushed me in the room, the door slamming shut behind me.
I look at the armory I stand in now. It is not nearly as ornate or extensive as Cordae’s. However, it holds all the weapons I would need. I walk around, brushing my hands across the sword hilts, admiring the beauty and work put into every detail of every weapon.
Once Upon an Assassin Page 8
