Secrets of the Crown Assassins

12

ARIELLE

The gardens were glittering. I walked between the trees tucked away in small courtyards and crevices in the golden palace.

I never stumbled across this garden before, though that wasn't very surprising. There were dozens of rooms in the labyrinth of the golden palace that I never knew of. A good thing too. Father always said a house in which every room was familiar wasn't worth living in. I agreed, only because it meant there were plenty of places to sneak off to when one didn't wish to be found.

Branches stretched across the pathways, providing cool shade, a relief from the beating afternoon sun. Leaves stooped low, brushing the top of my hair gently as I walked by. Their golden brown hues reminded me of the coming winter and the quickly approaching November deadline. The wind blew through the trees and the leaves shook from their branches and fluttered to the ground. A few landed on my shoulders. I didn't bother brushing them off.

My mind drifted back to the bombing which took place only two days ago.

The Kingston Queen, probably one of the most widely loved out of us all, was dead. My mother was in critical condition and fighting for her life in the infirmary. Assassins piled in and out from all over the nation to pay her a visit. They would be staying the next few days to attend the Kingston Queen's funeral.

Many were staying in friends' homes in the main city or the City of Silver's estates. But still, there were many residing in the guest apartments of the golden palace. The palace was large enough to safely avoid these people of course, but the main gathering spots were occupied by too many prying eyes. So, I wandered through parts of the palace that were left untouched until I started exploring at a young age.

Eventually, I stumbled on this courtyard, small and eerie but somehow growing all the same. The new discovery wasn't surprising, but annoying. Damien's specialty was his inventions and Xavier's hidden knowledge. But mine was direction. I knew every nook and cranny of this palace better than anyone else. Even the secret passages were mine. When Arielle escaped, she had to manipulate me for an answer on how to leave. Whenever the Kingstons wanted to spy on someone or hide something, they came to me for help. And I discovered the furthest reaches of the palace by the time I was eight years old.

All without a map. I never needed one. I never got lost.

But here this courtyard is, tucked away behind a small door and down a secret passage which I never noticed. Still, it was hard to be infuriated for long. The courtyard was simply too pretty for my anger. And, most importantly, quiet and secluded.

I wondered if the original Crowns built it as a quiet getaway from the guests. Now it was used as a hiding place for fake Crowns to escape the death on their hands.

A golden branch hung down at eye level. I brushed the leaf with a finger and thought of how I should show the Kingston Queen these gardens. She would love the beauty of it all and the way it seemed to pop up in the middle of nowhere, a hidden alcove to be explored and kept to oneself. It took a few moments before I realized I would never get the chance to show her. All because of me.

And just like that, the thoughts I was trying to escape came flooding back. Finding my mother unconscious at the bottom of the stairs, holding her hand, begging her to wake up, hoping the faint pulse in her wrist was real. I could remember shouting as the authorities finally rushed in and tended to my unwaking mother, others running past me when I pointed up the stairs where the brothers disappeared to.

A knife pierced the bottom of my heart and I could feel my throat slowly closing up as I recalled the way the authorities carried their mother's mangled body on a stretcher. They were shouting orders to each other, trying to revive. But then the Kingston brothers followed them down the stairs, the two leaning on each other. Damien had tears streaming down his cheeks, his hands wringing together so violently that I thought he would tear his own fingers apart if someone didn't give him something to fiddle with. Xavier's eyes were red and swollen but dry. He stopped crying and was instead staring through the dust after the silhouettes carrying his mother, jaw locked. One look into their eyes and I knew nothing the authorities did would fix anything. She's gone.