A Thief and a Queen

Retirement

For LoveOutlawQueen, who asked for a sequel to my "Assassin" piece.

The life of an assassin wasn't an easy one. Especially when one was also a ghost. It was a lonely existence, unable to forge many last relationships. Being an assassin would put any friends and family in danger from those who sought justice, either on behalf of a victim or on behalf on his Majesty. And as a ghost, it was too chancy to let anyone know she wasn't dead. It could cost more than her life.

Yet Regina also found the life of a ghostly assassin a free one. She came and went as she pleased. She wore the breeches and shirts she had preferred as a young girl rather than the elaborate dresses her station required her to wear. There were no guards and servants watching her every move, reporting back to her husband. She didn't have to smile, laugh, flirt or impress anybody, pretending to be a happy queen, wife and stepmother when all she wanted was to burn the palace to the ground. Most of all, she was free from the fear of the old king coming to her and demanding she perform her wifely duties.

She did have some companions. There was Jerry, the beautiful stallion given to her by a peasant woman who had wanted her drunken, abusive husband dead. Regina had done with without expectation of payment but the woman insisted. Jerry helped her perform jobs faster and proved to be an excellent listener.

There was also a man who hunted in the woods near her cabin. While they had never spoken, he often left meat by her door. In return, she would leave him some gold coins. It was a business relationship but still it was some form of human contact. She didn't know his name and only called him "Huntsman."

Then there was Robin, the only person who knew her true identity. She didn't know what to call their relationship. He wasn't her benefactor—she never took money from him. While she often shared his bed, the term lover seemed inadequate for what else they had. So the best she could do was call him a friend, though even that seemed hollowed. He let her eat his food (and she noticed she always left Locksley with food hidden in her sack) and use his private bath.

Like now. She had just returned from a long mission—her latest target tended to move around a lot. It had taken her a month to track him down. But once she found him in a tavern, it had been easy to kill him. She gave the man who had hired her his proof of death, he paid her and she rode straight for Locksley. After six weeks of no contact, she knew Robin would be worried.

As the warm water soothed her body, she let her mind wander as she decided to take Robin to bed that night. It had been too long since she last felt his caresses and his lips on every inch of her body. Too long since she last raked her nails across his back drew her name like a prayer from his lips.

The thoughts stirred feelings deep within her, feelings better tended to in bed than the bath. She pushed herself from the water, wrapping a towel around her body.

She smiled as she heard Robin's voice, glad she wouldn't have to wait much longer to give into the feelings growing stronger with each passing moment. Until another voice—a woman's—stilled the hand she had wrapped around the doorknob. She had only opened it a crack, letting her see into Robin's private parlor.

Robin escorted a beautiful woman into his rooms. She appeared to be about Regina's age—maybe younger—with blonde hair that was done up in an elaborate hairdo comprised of braids, curls and ribbons. Her fine silk gowns showed she was at least a noblewoman, like Robin, or at most royalty, like Regina had been. She had pale white skin and big blue eyes, which she batted as she laughed at something Robin said.

His eyes sparkled as he smiled, handing her a glass of wine. They tapped their glasses together before drinking. Regina watched as the noblewoman put her glass down to whisper something in Robin's ear.