Villain's Assistant

by Carley Hibbert

  “A man chose to wait for me on that road. He offered me two choices: follow him or let Mouthrot kill me!” Benjamin was screaming now. Blood pulsed behind his ears. “I just stood face to face with my dead mother, Shreb Jr., and Baldo. Your brother lured me into a situation that should have made it impossible for me to refuse to join them!” He jerked his imaginary knife through his mother’s sleeve again. “But I severed those ties, literally, running to Rebecca, Aldo, and to all of you, and yet you still don’t trust me. And what do I have to show for all of this?”

  Benjamin sought out Denny’s icy eyes as he stepped forward. “Your anger! Your accusations! I’m sorry your brother and I ended up on the wrong sides! I’m not sure how it happened! I thought maybe—”

  Odie’s fingertips pressed gently against Benjamin’s chest. Benjamin was surprised to see that his nose nearly touched Denny’s. He turned away, clutching his chest; it felt hollowed out. Did he really just lose it? Benjamin studied his abandoned bed for a moment. The blankets where rumpled, leaving an empty tunnel that marked his sleepless night.

  “I thought maybe the hard choices were the right ones. Maybe I was wrong,” Benjamin mumbled.

  He heard the door close behind him before Benjamin realized he was walking down the hallway. Guards saluted as he passed, but no one followed him. Benjamin didn’t stop until he found the dusty room full of broken furniture; the giant banquet tables were missing. He didn’t want to run into Branwen this time, so he pulled the door closed. Then he screamed and screamed, yanking on his hair to feel the pain. Finally he collapsed to the floor.

  Tears blurred his vision as Benjamin realized that he felt worse than before. Anger and confusion pressed inside of him while he sobbed into the floor.

  SIXTY FOUR

  Benjamin jerked awake, not remembering falling asleep. He heard footsteps approaching.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  The Lieutenant stopped a few strides short of Benjamin. The old man was cleaner than he was the night before but still looked no more rested. His eye patch was gone, as well as the circle of dirt that usually marked its absence. He examined the pile of broken furniture and then slumped to the ground and leaned against the pile.

  “Odie told me what happened.”

  That boy chose to speak at the strangest times.

  “I don’t blame you for being angry. It’s easier to lash out at a person rather than cope with a situation that is outside your control.” The old man reached for his missing patch and then decided to examine his palms instead. “I spent years being angry with a lot of people—especially myself. It never did me any good.”

  Benjamin’s cheeks burned. He had just done the exact thing he despised Denny for doing to him. It was lazy. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. The Lieutenant’s voice was empty of anger. No accusation. No scorn. Was it kindness Benjamin heard?

  “I hardly recognized your mother. Anger has twisted her into something nearly inhuman.” He paused to breathe. “I had a part in it, but in the end, she chose that path. We all choose.”

  Benjamin’s chest tightened, and he struggled for air. He blinked, unable to say anything. The Lieutenant rubbed his hands together as if he were cold. It was strange to see that one dark eye. Black-Eyed Barnaby. His father noticed Benjamin’s gaze and rubbed at his eye, smiling awkwardly.

  “It does feel strange to be without it after all these years. It tied me to a life of hiding and turned me away from this life.” He gestured at their surroundings and sighed.

  “You may feel you didn’t have much of a choice in all of this, but there were times you could have taken a different path. You could have gone back, but you chose to do what was right over what was easy.” Benjamin’s father picked up a broken arm of a chair and examined it. “I waited on that road for you because I hoped that somehow we would end up at the same destination in the end.”

  Benjamin turned his head at this. The Lieutenant shrugged at this confession, one that was a long time coming, making brief eye contact before glancing back at the wood in his hand.

  “I just wanted a chance,” his father said as he turned his uneven gaze back on his son. “I wanted you to have a chance to make choices with a little more information.”

  Benjamin sat up stiffly. His head hurt. “You wanted me to know the truth?” Benjamin tugged at his torn cuff, unsure what to do next.

  His father stood and offered his hand. “Yes.”

  Benjamin gripped his father’s warm hand and quickly found himself in his embrace, something he’d never experienced in his sixteen years. He was surprised to find it was just what he needed. Benjamin wrapped his arms around his father and squeezed back. Warmth swelled in his chest, smoothing the sharp edges of the pain there.

  “Denny needs time. You gave him something to think about.” The Lieutenant stepped back and squeezed Benjamin’s shoulder. “I think an apology from both sides wouldn’t hurt—eventually.”

  SIXTY FIVE

  Rebecca’s side burned. Oh, how it burned. She woke up feeling thick headed, and moving felt nearly impossible. Oh yes, I was stabbed! She saw the assassin’s dark eyes, the stubble on his chin, the throbbing vein she stuck her knife into. She gasped at the pain welling up in her side. Dally’s hands were under her head to give her something that smelled overly sweet. Rebecca waved the vial away. “Water,” she croaked.

  Dally nodded and gave her sweet, cold water. She asked to sit up. What a process that was! Dally promised it would be smoother next time. Rebecca smiled at the old woman, whose face was drawn and shadowed.

  “You need to sleep, Dally. Surely you could find someone to help you. What would I do if you were too ill to help me?”

  This seemed to strike a chord. Dally nodded, openly acknowledging her fatigue.

  Molly soon appeared at her bedroom door. A black eye peered up from behind the tray she set at the foot of the bed. She smiled awkwardly and muttered something about stepping in front of the wrong person. Rebecca felt a twinge of embarrassment as Molly smoothed out her blankets, remembering the jokes and confessions they had shared when she was pretending to be a simple servant.

  Rebecca bit her lip. “Molly, I’m sorry I misled you. It was the only way they’d let me out of here.”

  The maid rubbed the bedspread through her fingers for a moment before responding. “While these rooms are fine, I can’t imagine being cooped up in here the whole time.” A blush crept up Molly’s neck, and she nodded firmly. “You had to get out! Plus, we all knew there was something special about you. We just didn’t know exactly how special.”

  Molly rubbed her hands on her skirt as she examined the room. She stopped to meet Rebecca’s gaze for a moment with earnest eyes.

  “We’re all just so happy to have the princess back.” She gestured to the tray. “You are forgiven. Henry spent hours making you a sugar butterfly.”

  Rebecca put her hand to her chest, as warmth spread from her heart. The butterfly was every shade of blue; its delicate wings shimmered in the sunlight. Rebecca remembered a smudge of white faces and strained voices floating around her as she bled on the table. There were a few snatches of prayers in her behalf that stuck out in her mind.

  It never occurred to Rebecca what the people felt about her personally. She could never have imagined what her existence meant to them. Rebecca still didn’t understand, not really, but she felt more of an obligation to them now. Her view of life had widened enormously as she thought of all the lives that were counting on her.

  “Thank you.” Rebecca’s voice nearly failed.

  Rebecca ate and drank obediently, while Molly told stories of upheaval around the castle. The kitchen maid sat next to her on the bed after she finished her tray. Rebecca tried not to giggle as Molly imitated the butler’s distress at the shattered dinnerware. Rebecca smiled. She hadn’t lost a friend at all. She had gained a devoted ally.

  Denny stopped by a few days later. He was dressed in his castle clothes, nearly
a new person. His golden waves shone. Molly smiled mischievously as she left the room. Yes, Denny was handsome. He would look fabulous in a uniform. She could probably get him a commission since he was eager to be more than a boy from a farm.

  “You look much better,” Denny said. He didn’t bother to hide his relief. “All that blood. I’ve never been so scared!”

  He looked down at his new boots, and Rebecca motioned for him to sit. He hesitated a moment, but he lowered himself into the chair by her bed. She reached her hand out to him, and he took it eagerly.

  Denny’s hand was warm and rough, not unlike hers. He had done a lot for her over the years. He looked up into her eyes, nearly blinding her. All of this was new, the touch of his hand, the directness of Denny’s gaze. His blue eyes were like the sky on a summer day, bright and full of promise. Warmth ran up her arm to her chest, stealing her breath. She commanded herself to be strong.

  “I’m sorry about that. The king has commanded I worry about my own safety and not his. Sir Wendell has given me two additional bodyguards. It will never happen again. They forbid it.”

  “Why?” A plea layered in Denny’s voice as he squeezed her hand. “Why did you do it?”

  The room was so quiet she could feel it pressing against her ears. The answer pressed against her tongue, building in her chest like a glowing ember. The truth?

  “No one’s really asked that…or waited for the answer.” Rebecca’s false laugh crumbled in her throat. She examined the bedposts, the drapes, the walls, and the sleeve of the red silk robe that she wore over her nightgown. She took a deep breath. “I will do everything to ensure the safety of the king and any future heir. I will never be queen.”

  Denny dropped his gaze, and a strand of gold fell over his eyes before he spoke again. “You will be happy to know that the king officially announced his engagement to Lady Jalene. He sent out messengers with his decree this morning.” He pressed his lips together. “There will be a court next week to hear Mouthrot’s crimes and an execution. A wedding date will be announced soon.”

  Rebecca smiled and squeezed his hand. She wondered if he could feel her hand trembling. How easy it would be if I let myself. “Can we persuade Aldo to get married first?”

  Denny laughed as he searched her face. The sun moved out from behind a cloud as he reached up and brushed her cheek. A ripple of expectation and fear raced to her heart.

  She remembered the warning Dally had given her about boys. Denny’s love was there; she could see it in his face. She wasn’t sure she deserved it. She swallowed. There was something she could give him freely.

  “I want you to do something for me.” Rebecca’s words crossed her lips more as air than voice.

  Denny nodded and traced his thumb across the scabs that had formed over her knuckles and reached for her other hand. She gave it to him freely. It was startling to have him be so open with her. He was so much braver than she.

  She licked her lips. “I’ve talked to my uncle about you and your brothers.” She swallowed again. “Would you take a commission if you were offered one?”

  “If it would help you,” he said, warmly tracing the inside of her palm with his thumb. Her hand tingled and then went numb.

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  “I know I’ve been a pain lately. I’ve just been too wrapped up in myself. It’s a miserable place to be.” Denny leaned into the bed, holding her gaze firmly. “You will always be a part of my plans. I will serve you in whatever way is best.”

  He raised Rebecca’s hands to his lips. They were softer than she had expected. The warmth that passed through her body surprised her even more, and suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the room. Only the firm lines of her position and the pain in her side kept her from leaning forward to meet those lips. Bless that assassin’s knife! It had been good for something. Rebecca pressed her back into her pillow. She ached to feel his arms around her, but somehow that felt dishonest, not to mention physically painful.

  “I love you,” Denny whispered. It fell like a hopeless prayer from his lips.

  How could anyone know that? I’m too young to know about such things. Rebecca’s face burned uncomfortably.

  “Thank you,” she whispered through thick lips.

  Denny accepted this and pressed his lips against her hands again and stood to leave. He paused by the door. “I’m sorry about that night by the fire. I just wanted to kiss you, just once.”

  Not until he left did the air return to the room. Molly returned and fussed with the door, giving Rebecca time to dab her eyes with an extravagantly embroidered handkerchief. “I’m exhausted.”

  Molly set a glass down next to the sugar butterfly displayed on Rebecca’s bed stand, magnifying it through the glass. Molly silently adjusted Rebecca’s pillows so that she could lie down, and a fresh handkerchief was left in her hand. It was soft and embroidered with an R that wore a wolf’s face. Princess Reyna. Royalty.

  SIXTY SIX

  Benjamin poked at his cold breakfast. He chewed a piece of bread and swallowed forcefully. He brushed the crumbs from the new suit brought to him for this morning’s special occasion. It was a somber black, like funeral attire. Mouthrot’s sentence was being read this morning. Aldo had kept Rebecca away for most of the trial, but this morning, Rebecca insisted on attending. As her friend (or whatever he was), Benjamin would stand by her.

  He walked alone to Rebecca’s door. There were guards stationed outside and a few more just down the hall. The recent assassination attempts had doubled Aldo’s concern for his niece, even with proof of her ability to defend herself.

  Dally poked her head out of the door and nodded. Rebecca stepped out wearing a dress the color of cold ash. Benjamin offered his arm, and she took it. Neither was in the mood for conversation. She twisted the ends of her black shawl as they walked stiffly to face her parents’ murderer. Benjamin’s body moved steadily, but his mind was racing.

  This could have been Benjamin’s fate. Guards saluted as they walked by, no weapons pointed at him. Princess Reyna casually rested her arm in his. Outside the door, Denny waited in his new uniform. He had been given a commission and would soon leave to fulfill his orders. Rebecca accepted Denny’s arm as he escorted her into the courtroom. Benjamin followed behind, scanning the dour faces of noblemen who had spent the last two weeks hearing evidence against the traitor.

  The noblemen stood for the princess as the king watched her cross the room. Denny led her to a seat next to the Lieutenant. Torrin. His father. He looked strangely alert with two eyes—one dark, one light—looking out at the world. He took the princess’s hand and kissed it. She sat and all sat with her.

  The guards slammed their staffs against the floor. The doors opened. Mouthrot entered. He flashed his gold teeth as if he feared no one in this room. His eyes, sagging heavily, rested for a moment on Torrin, his nemesis, but continued to the princess, who sat with dignity under his cold gaze. Rebecca wore no crown, but her royalty could not be mistaken. Mouthrot’s smile flickered. He turned and faced the lords, who were visibly bored. The villain fiddled with his chains.

  One of the lords cleared his throat and stood. He waited for Aldo to acknowledge him and then spoke. “The list of this man’s crimes against the royal family and the kingdom of Lam is long. They include murder, attempted murder, kidnapping, attempted kidnapping, bribery, blackmail, conspiracy, and so forth. Each is serious enough to hold this court, but the one that we will acknowledge at this time is the murder of the king’s brother, Prince Evan, and his wife, Brynn, the parents of Princess Reyna, the only living heir to King Aldo, whom he also attempted to kidnap and murder.”

  “That is two crimes, not one,” Mouthrot croaked and sneered at the court.

  Rebecca sat straight, face blank. Benjamin wondered how a man so powerful could be reduced so quickly. Mouthrot had lost weight, and the only color left in his face was that of the gold teeth that he was determined to display to the nobility he despised.

  T
he villain played his hand well, but he had lost. The noblemen in this room hadn’t defeated him. His own adopted people had done that, people he thought beneath him.

  “Last words?” Aldo’s voice filled the room, sounding more like a dare than a request.

  Mouthrot’s smile twisted. He spat in everyone’s general direction. Disdain. His last words he wanted to speak to no one in this room. Benjamin remembered Ursula, Baldo, and Shreb standing in the courtyard. Ursula’s face had also been filled with disdain. They had expected him to join them. Would they still let him, even now?

  The rest of it was over quickly. A sack, a large man, and a sharp knife.

  It was over.

  Rebecca stood, her face like marble, and walked out of the room unassisted. Benjamin followed her out, the doors echoing behind them. She walked straight outside through the main courtyard. The sun was out, but the day was cool. Rebecca peered out the gate for a moment and then climbed up to the watchtowers, Benjamin following her.

  Rebecca pressed against the balustrade and gazed toward the forest where Prince Evan’s castle would have been. Her castle. Where would Ursula be now? Benjamin then wondered where his father’s home was, the home he had been promised. He felt a touch of curiosity. Did he really have a home anymore? He rested his hand on the cold stone, and something wet hit his hand. Tears streamed down Rebecca’s face, unchecked. Benjamin put an arm stiffly around her shoulder, and she collapsed in his arms. They cried together for a moment. She handed him a handkerchief when she finally stood back.

  “Don’t worry. Dally’s embroidered loads of these for me. You can keep that one. I have plenty.” Rebecca smiled and turned to face the world outside. “It feels nice to be outside and feel the sun on my face again.”