ricochet || an original story

rowan

It takes an hour before Jasper comes into my room. He smells like-- thank the gods-- lavender and pine, his hair is flat against his head, drying, and his shirt is wet in spots on his shoulders. Either his hair is dripping or he doesn't dry well. I watch as another gray spot forms on his white shirt; his hair is dripping. Despite him standing in the doorway, he knocks on the doorframe. "Can I come in?" his lips curl into a soft smile after he speaks.

I give a small nod. "Sure." My voice is barely a whisper. I scoot over to the foot of my bed to give Jasper room to sit if he pleases. I wipe half-dried tears from my cheeks and sniffle. I need to pull myself together, I just can't. I take a deep breath and run my hands up and down my thighs, trying to calm myself.

Jasper shuts my door and takes a seat beside me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Deep breaths, Ro."

"I hate my mum. I hate the king. I hate this kingdom." I mutter, looking at the floor, not wishing to go into further detail. "I wish I didn't have this job anymore."

"Hating your stupid mother is a sensible thing. And, I'm sure the king will let you go if you ask."

I only blink for a moment before asking, "Are you sure?" there's no emotion in my voice whatsoever.

Jasper nods hesitantly. I know he isn't sure. I also know the king won't let me go, but perhaps a sliver of hope is all I need right now.

I take deep breath and wrap my arms around Jasper's torso, my head on his shoulder. He wastes no time to hug me back, running his hand up and down my back to comfort me. A half-smile creeps upon my face, but it fades as I pull out of the hug.

Silence fills the room now. An uncomfortable silence, which is odd.

"Oh, speaking of the king--" Jasper starts, breaking the awkward silence. "This isn't the right time to tell you, but, there's a public execution tomorrow morning."

"Who? Is it Clodagh Taylor?" as much as I wish otherwise, and as much as I know it's likely not her, there's hope in my voice as I ask.

Jasper shakes his head and he breaths out, as if trying not to laugh. Although the way the corner of his lips twitch tells me he certainly thought my statement was funny. His face goes back to stone to say, "Igor? Yegor? I don't know his name. The royal chef."

"Gods," I mutter. "The entire family will be gone if he dies. Why are they doing this? Was losing the future assassin of Dravenry not enough for the king?"

"He tried to poison the king, Ro. But he put the wrong plate in the wrong spot. One of the maids is dead now." Jasper says nonchalantly, as if he's telling me about a book he read or how to solve a quadratic equation.

I shake my head. "He just wants to have a family again."

"Killing the king won't bring Alyona back."

"It'll give him some sense of justice!" Tears well in my eyes and I turn my head to the wall.

"It'll make him have regrets." Jasper says sharply. "Now, pack a small bag." His voice is different, commanding.

The tears go away from my surprise. I blink, confused, and a little dumbfounded. "Why?" I turn my head to Jasper.

"You're being relocated for the next few weeks."

I sit in silence, waiting for him to say more.

"You'll be in my room. I'll be in yours. Room swap."

"But why?" I ask again, standing up from my bed. I grab a briefcase and shove in two sweater vests, both dark brown, and one white, long-sleeved button-up shirt. I force a pair of light brown trousers into the briefcase. I grab a book off my desk and frown at the dents on the cover from my tantrum, tucking it under my arm.