Montague is Dead

Chapter 3

THE BREAKFAST WAS a disaster, and I didn't get to eat any food nor drink water. I don't think my mother got a droplet of caffeine in her as well when I stormed out the hall. I heard footsteps behind me when I ran straight to my chambers, but I immediately locked myself in.

Nervousness was rushing in my system, and my veins are pumping with adrenaline. What kind of target can make Father smile at me so big, make him proud of me? Back at the hall, he was almost starry-eyed, I couldn't believe it. Joy was spreading within me, with how he talked to me and how he described that I was fit for the job!

But when I finally read his smile, it was like I was poured with cold water.

My heart is still pounding fast when I stepped towards my dresser. I caught a quick reflection of myself from my vanity, but I didn't stare long enough to see how a mess of a person I was.

My calloused hand and chapped fingers reached for the envelope. Letter A was sculpted using the black wax seal. It was no doubt from the Ace. My head was spinning when I tore the opening apart. A note no bigger than a paper bill sits comfortably on my hand.

The texture of the paper was not too rough, but it wasn't entirely soft too. The ink was smeared a bit, and it had a blotch on the upper right corner.

The note reads:

Target: Dameau Montague
Rule as suicide, no other attachments. Do it in any way with the least to no problems. Use any method if you must. No deadline.

- A

My mouth fell open. I understood Mother and Father's reaction. How she was afraid for me, and how he was eager for me to take this job. The target is a Montague!

My Father's glee dawned on me because this time I am not killing an ordinary person. I am to kill someone who would be coronated soon, the current crown prince.

The note found itself lying on the mattress. Looking at my hands, they weren't shaking, but something inside me was stirring up. It was a mix of enthusiasm and fear. No one has ever, ever, targeted a Montague. No one has dared to, of course. Who would, when he's from the royal family?

In my six years of service, I have never truly doubted my capabilities as an assassin, and I know that I can easily take out a man off the grid. But I still should keep my limitation in check. If I keep on carrying my seat and walk with pure confidence, I won't be able to get out of the palace alive.

I stood up with inconstant emotions. From one of my drawers, I picked up a flint and steel and started to lit the candles just above it. The silver platter had old wax, I tried to unstick them with my fingernails. Then, I burned the letter until nothing is left but ashes.

Having recovered a bit, I pondered for a minute. The hard step now is planning. How in the world am I going to infiltrate the Capitol? My heart skipped a beat, I have never infiltrated an establishment this big ever. The security is very tight, and the royal guards would be crawling all over the place. I doubt I can just sneak in and kill the prince, save the fact that it needs to be ruled as a suicide. I need to do this very clean and neat.

I unlocked my door and called for Laura, not a minute after when she was already outside my room. Her hair is brown and straight, it fell up to her waist. Laura has been my handmaiden for almost eight years, and she's seen me at my worsts.

"Laura, may I invite you inside for a bit?" shocked by what I have said, she returned my gaze but looked away almost immediately, "I would like to inquire about some things."

Although hesitant, she closed the door behind her and stood at the foot of my bed. She was standing quietly and was waiting for me to speak. She gripped her hands together tightly.