An Assassin's Vow | A Beloved Novel

Chapter 22

Tal rarely got seasick.

He'd been on many boats before; had even taken on an assignment three years earlier to kill a Talonian lieutenant on his way to some other country across the Great Sea. He'd stowed himself away on that ship and killed the lieutenant four days into the two week trip by greasing the bottom of his target's boots.

Climbing down the water-slicked steps didn't help when the lieutenant slipped and hit his head on the railing. And though he'd been tended to and was still conscious when helped back to his cabin, Tal rectified that by strangling the man in his sleep. And the crew agreed with the physician's diagnosis that the man had suffered a brain injury and died from it.

At their destination across the Great Sea, Tal had slipped away, stowed himself away on another ship, and returned to Talonia just a little over a month since he'd left the Guild for his mission. The souvenir he'd taken from his victim, a pin resembling Talonia's sacred flower, had been stowed away in his chest in the room he shared with some of the other assassins in the Guild.

But standing on the deck right now, five days since they'd left Tredia, Tal was pretty sure he was going to throw up as the ship rocked back and forth. So he stared at the horizon, praying to whatever deity out there that was willing to listen that the nausea would pass. And though he'd been uttering that prayer for nearly an hour, his sickness didn't let up.

"You're looking rather green, lad."

Heath sauntered up to Tal, dressed in an off-white shirt, brown trousers, and shining black boots with gold buckles. Where he found the shoes, Tal didn't know. When they'd left Tredia, Heath was given the shirt and trousers to wear and was allowed to borrow a pair of plain old brown shoes. So Tal had to guess he stole the boots from a member of the crew or found them somewhere below deck.

"I am not in the mood," Tal groaned, staring at the horizon, a trick one of the crew members suggested he try.

Heath chuckled, leaning against the railing beside the young man. "I don't remember you looking quite so sickly when you nearly killed me."

Tal glared at him. "I'll still do it."

Heath smirked. "I don't think you will. Your Prince stopped you before. He'll probably stop you again. Though I suppose I should thank him for that. My body could be at the bottom of the sea."

"Where it belongs," Tal muttered, turning away from the pirate. Couldn't this man just go away? Permanently? By jumping over the side of the ship?

Devan joined the pair at the railing. "Heath, would you mind giving Tal and I some privacy?"

Heath rolled his eyes. "Sure, Your Royal—"

"Do not finish that sentence," Devan warned.

Heath shook his head. "My, you're certainly testy, princeling." But he did as asked and left the two of them alone.

Devan looked at Tal. "You do look really bad. How often do you get seasick?"

"Almost never," he admitted, glancing at the Prince. "I've been on boats plenty of times before."

"Are you scared about what might happen at the Pirate's Keep?" he asked. "Nobody would blame you if you were."

"No, no, that's not it. I've been in a lot of tough situations before and rarely felt any sort of fear."

"And what sort of situations have you been in?"

Tal stilled, realizing his mistake. What could he say? "Uh... Couple of run-ins with some bandits."
Truth. "I stole food a lot as a kid." Truth. "I was taken and held for ransom because someone thought I was a lord's son." Half-truth. It was a mission from the lord to pretend to be his son and kill the men who had plans to kidnap the heir. Tal had a lot of fun on that particular mission and had even dragged it out for far longer than he really needed to.