Secrets of the Crown Assassins

58

DAMIEN

The halls of the Golden Palace were oddly quiet. Most of the servants were kicked out in an effort to weed out the spies which left only the most essential servants to pick up the rest of the work. They must've been exhausted, but we didn't have much of a choice. As far as we could tell, it certainly helped, but we were sure there were still a few spies left who served many different factions.

I wished it was noisy, chaotic. I wished there were more people to talk to, distract myself with. Even Dom had left my side for his break, replaced by a new guard that I wasn't quite familiar with. I finally had time to think. Too much time to think.

But the time was necessary, wasn't it? I had spent well over a year refusing to be left with my thoughts, always finding another problem to solve, another invention, another person to talk to or torment. But I had barely ever spared a thought about the car crash. And the one time I had, the one time I had even dared to touch the subject, to mention it to someone new, it was a mistake. A foolish mistake.

But I needed to think about it, didn't I? To come to terms with it. I thought that I was fine, that I would survive, that I had moved on. But if I had, why did I react so badly in the Raven base? I was incapacitated for god knows how long. I could've died. Xavier and Arielle could've been killed. All because I was a coward. All because I refused to admit that I truly, desperately, needed help.

I shook my head. This had gone on long enough. My ignorance nearly got us all killed. It couldn't happen again. It won't happen again. Perhaps I should get myself checked up.

But who would I go to? Any one of the psychiatrists could be moles, moles that I would be practically listing all of my weaknesses to. My father and Xavier, despite their infinite wisdom, could never truly help me. They were capable of identifying my problem, yes. They could give some advice. But they could never help me fix it. The one person in my family who could've was my mother. My mother who was dead. Which meant I had to seek people outside of my family. Arielle would want to help and do her best to try, but I doubt she would ever truly understand. Nydia would. After all the things about her mother, Nydia would understand without me even having to utter a word. But Nydia is...

The enemy.

Nydia is the enemy.

And she always had been. She had been a spy the whole time. Or maybe she wasn't. Maybe she decided to join the Rebels later. But if that was the case, where did the real Nydia end and the cunning spy begin?

Nowhere. Nydia had never been real. She was a spy all along.

I would have to remind myself of that. She was on the other side of the war that was to come. On the side that wanted to kill me and my family. I couldn't spare her sympathy or doubt. And if I saw her on the battlefield...

I will kill her.

The thought made my stomach turn.

Because without Nydia, I had nobody. Not a single person.

I was practically alone.

I sighed. For now I would focus on the main issue at hand. I will deal with my personal problems later.

I turned the corner and pushed open the first door, immediately being greeted by the sound of a violin playing. The music room was vast, with one side carrying multiple instruments which were stored behind a glass door. The rest was shaped as a semicircle large enough to perform an opera. Xavier leaned against the far wall. In the center stood my father, playing his violin.

There was no sheet music before him as he had already known it by heart. Afterall, it was a song he wrote. I was familiar with the song too, familiar enough to almost hear my mother singing along. Without her voice it sounded hollow.