The Scarlet Assassin

Chapter Eight (M)

The rain still hadn't ceased two days later.

Sorin and I were walking toward the castle after Rafe had intercepted a note from the king asking us both to meet him in the throne room. I had my hood over my hair and my face down, blocking out the heavy water droplets that thrummed against my back and head. The air was muggy and thick around us, and my boots splashed water onto my pants.

"What does the king want?" I asked bluntly, not caring to sugarcoat the question.

Sorin shrugged. "I don't know." Looking up, I studied his face -the lines of his jaw; how his hair lost its volume in the rain and proceeded to splay on his forehead; his creased brows. Then I looked forward and scoffed.

"You're about as bad of a liar as a child, Lieutenant. Tell me or I won't go at all."

His eyes rolled, and his chest rumbled with a sigh. "You wouldn't defy the king."

"Watch me." When he still didn't respond, I swayed my head forward again and ground my teeth. "Fine. You don't have to talk, just listen. I'm guessing it was the king who sent Draven -the leader of the Blood Wolves- and Niran to assassinate me. Niran grew up in the castle with his mother or father who was part of the royal cartographers but left when the king offered him money to go undercover and kill me. And Draven must've gotten a cut out of the money just for trying, which would explain why his routine went back to normal after his failed attempt. He failed and still got money. That was the mystery compensator, the king." Again, I looked up to gauge Sorin's reaction. Of course, this wasn't just a guess, as from Sophie's small sliver of insight I knew I was right. But I wanted to see how easily Sorin would give up the king.

"Even if you were right, you have no evidence. If you're trying to go to the-."

"Calm down, I'm not interested in turning the king in," I sighed. "Just wanted to know if I was right." Sorin glanced at me.

"And what's your conclusion, little assassin?" He asked.

"That I am. And that's not all I'm right about. I also know about the not-so-secret secret mission King Orson is planning on sending us on." Sorin froze, his eyes widening ever so slightly. His body went rigid as his steps slowed then stopped. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, stopping me from walking without him. I looked up at him and smirked.

"Really, we must stop meeting like this, Lieutenant. People might talk-."

"You know about the journey to Targaryen? About the assassination? How?"

My smirk broadened. "Now I do." The 'us' part had been a stretch, but I figured that the king would send Sorin with me to make sure I stayed in line. And I seemed to be right anyway. Now I knew where the mission was taking place and vaguely of what I was doing.

Sorin blinked, his lips curling right after. "You bitch! You tricked me!"

"You tricked yourself, Lieutenant Stryker. Now kindly release my wrist so we are on time. You of all people should know the king likes when we're punctual." Reluctantly, he let my wrist drop. I turned and walked away, Sorin trailing behind me angrily.

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The king sat with his hand folded in his lap, watching Sorin and me walking in. Our clothes were soaked and dripping onto the castle's expensive velvet carpets, the prints from my boots staining with every step. Right as I walked in, a servant came up from behind me and slid my coat from my shoulders before I could protest. Then the king ordered Sorin to pat me down for any more weapons. He really wasn't taking any chances. I unwillingly extended my arms.