An Empire of Assassins (#1)

Chapter 1

Maeve Windstone withdrew the dagger from the bloody neck of her victim. This one was number 50. Fifty kills complete under the strict orders from her father. She wasn't entirely sure why she still kept track after all these years, perhaps it was to keep her moral compass in check, to prevent herself from becoming wholly numb to it.

Partly, she loved being an Assassin. The thrill of the hunt, the sneaking around, even the close-calls got her blood pumping and the adrenaline flowing. Being immortal, she didn't start the hired-killings until she was about 50 years old. And, by then, she was well trained and lethal. Now, she's been murdering for about 25 years. The contracts were few and far between at first, but within the past year it heavily increased.

Even though she's 75 years old, the assassin still looks to be nearly 20 or younger yet. In the nation of Dronea, only the "Superior" are immortal. "Superior" people include members of a royal family or certain higher up individuals with some tie to a royal bloodline.

At first, she'd think about the victims for weeks after it was done. She'd think about if they'd had families at home waiting for them, or if they'd had children. But, as her father reassured her, part of being a good murderer was not dwelling on the details.

Maeve left a dark corridor between two buildings and started down a side street. A cloak adorned her slender, muscular body and a hood covered her long blonde hair. She couldn't be recognized in the city of Gial, especially since she is the Princess of Clan Windstone, and the Princess of the House of Wind entirely.

Gial is the capitol city of the House of Wind, and where Clan Windstone resides. In the dark winter night, the eternal wind was unforgiving, but she was accustomed to it. Gial is a large city, and looks even larger at night with the lantern-lit houses and streets. The city is built mainly on a flat plain. But, breaking the flat horizon is the Mist River to the south.

On the other side of the river is where the royal manor is located, and where Maeve's family has lived for over three centuries. Maeve banked to the right down another narrow corridor as she drew nearer to her home and the largest building in Gial. Her family consists of her father (King Aelfred), her mother (Queen Freyda) and two younger siblings named Jax and Sloan.

The capitol city, large as it was, was quiet at night. Granted, it was the wee hours of the night, but still quiet. Once in a while, Maeve could make out the sounds of laughter erupting from some nearby tavern or the sound of a horse-drawn carriage making its way through town. Sometimes she was tempted to stop by one of those taverns at those late hours of the night, when the adrenaline from an assassination hadn't quite worn off yet.

But, she'd known the consequences of that already, from a visit to a tavern a couple decades ago.

One night, after a particularly difficult assassination, one that was almost a failed attempt, Maeve stopped by the Breeze Tavern for some beverages and perhaps to find a random male to enjoy the night with. Thinking that people would be too drunk to notice her as the princess, she walked in nonchalantly with her full assassin garb.

It was fine at first, and as the night went on Maeve did find what she was looking for. An enchanting young man by the name of Hiro caught her eye that night, and she ended up in his bed. The next morning, he had woken up first and noticed immediately the cloak, hidden blade, and the various weapons.

After that, she had returned to the manor still half-drunk to explain to her father what had transpired. She wasn't sure how her parents were going to react. Her mother, God bless her, almost seemed pleased that she had finally gone out and experienced some social scene. On the contrary, her father was furious.

Aelfred, that old bastard, had risen up out of his throne and hit her so hard blood sprayed out of her mouth. He called her a whore for taking someone to bed she had barely knew, but most of all he was irate about Maeve blowing her own cover.

As punishment, as if a hard punch in the face in front of her entire family wasn't enough, Maeve was ordered to kill Hiro herself. The alternative was Maeve being taken to the mountainous prison in House of Storm, and from the stories she'd been told, that was out of question.

Killing Hiro was the most mentally trying assassination she had done. She knew she had to, but it still haunted her on the daily. Hiro was the first male she had been intimate with in years. But, he was also the first person in years that she had actually had a half-decent conversation with that wasn't her own family. That was what made it so hard. She knew that if Hiro were still alive, they would most likely be good friends. Better yet, they might've ended up being more than friends.

The aftermath of what happened with Hiro was a spread of rumors about Maeve. Deep mistrust began to from within Gial, and within the entire House of Wind itself. And, there was no doubt, that rumors about 'The Princess of the House of Wind being a crazed murderer' had spread to other houses in Dronea. Merchants that came through looking for trades picked up on the rumors that seemed to float on the wind.

At the height of the rumors, Maeve remained in her room at the manor, refusing to do anything but feel guilt and remorse for killing her lover. She remained practically locked in that riverside manor for about a decade before Aelfred had her doing the contracted killings again. Only, this time, the killings were happening every few weeks instead of every few months or even years.

Her father had claimed that the workload was heavier because now she was 'fixing her mistakes' by eliminating anyone who challenged the royal family due to those rumors about her.

And Maeve worked her ass off. Every kill was precise, and perfect. She'd observe her victims for up to weeks at a time to determine when and where she would complete her contract. She worked harder at these assassinations because she felt like she was winning back her father's trust. And, she supposed, she was working for her own reputation as well. So that someday she could possibly rejoin society again without some of the taboo and suspicious looks.

Now, she crossed the wide wooden bridge onto the royal grounds on which the manor is built upon. The Mist River flowed quickly with the wind and sparkled in the moonlight. The wooden boards on the bridge creaked as she stepped off the bridge and onto the gravel path that led to her long-time home.

The house was a large contrast on the horizon compared to the relatively short houses that made up the city before the bridge. The house is constructed of a strong bluish-gray stone made to withstand the never-ending wind that whips through the land. Large wooden pillars support the house, made out of the pine trees that covers the land in almost every direction.

Only the sound of the quaking pine trees shaking in the wind filled her ears as she finally reached the polished stone steps of her ridiculously large house.

Tonight, the city of Gial was quiet. But, she knew this house was still alive in the late hours of the cold night. The faint glow of a lantern still shone through the windows. She figured it had to be the King. Her father.

The giant wooden doors creaked open as she beheld the source of that faint light with her dark blue eyes. The throne room was the first room you walk into in the royal manor. Ornate statues and wood carvings lined the large hall and the ceiling seemed to stretch into the sky. Various rooms branched off of hallways to the left and right, and two staircases to the back of the room led to the upstairs bedrooms.

King Aelfred sat slouched in his throne at the end of the room, with a lantern sitting at his feet. The light illuminated his face from the bottom. Her father was an impressive man. Like her, he had blonde hair and blue eyes. But, his eyes did not look as kind as her mother's or sister's, or even her brother. Aelfred was immortal as well, since he was a King of course. Maeve had almost lost track after all these years, but she knew her father was at about 500 years old. And, although he'd stopped aging at age 25, he somehow wore his old age. He was battle-worn, with scars to prove it. And, had some slight wrinkles, as if the wind that always whipped through his land had left his face marked.

Maeve pushed back her hood and approached the pedestal on which the thrones sat.

"Is your contract complete?", he said with no emotion.

"Yes."

Aelfred took a swig of his drink, "Good, because you have another one to complete in a few weeks time. And this time, it's going to be two in one night."