Assassinating The Princes

Illness

This was the first time I had ever made a mistake while killing someone—or rather, assassinating someone. And it wasn't a simple mistake like making a small noise or leaving a trace of evidence. No, I almost exposed my face. If someone had recognized me, I'd be dead by now.

To explain a little: I was hired to take out the leader of the biggest trade group in the city, a job ordered by his rival. I was certain I could complete the mission; after all, I'm one of the most skilled and notorious assassins in the kingdom. The risk was high, and so was the reward—there was no way I was letting this mission slip through my fingers.

After two weeks of careful research, I finally crafted a plan. I knew exactly when the target would be alone at home. That night, I slipped into his house through an open window—a window his wife constantly nagged him to keep shut. She was a cautious woman and might have saved him if she hadn't been away, mourning her brother's death.

I tiptoed through the house, reaching his library where I saw an oil lamp burning on the table. The room appeared empty, but then a dark figure emerged in the doorway. I quickly hid behind a shelf, holding my breath. He must have sensed something; I could hear his footsteps approaching. Gripping my metal stick, I prepared to strike. My original plan was to make it look like a suicide, but plans can change in an instant.

As he stepped into view, I lunged, ready to grab his throat. But he wasn't as naive as I'd thought. He held a shiny blade, and in a flash, he was about to stab me. I reacted instinctively, grabbing his arm and kicking him in the stomach, sending him crashing to the floor. I twisted his arm behind his back, the knife clattering to the floor as he groaned in pain.

"Who are you?!" he screamed, his voice filled with a mix of fear and fury.

"Ever heard the name Vespera?" I whispered into his ear, causing him to shiver and his eyes to widen in fear.

"Why me?!" he screamed, his voice shaking with terror.

"You weren't on my list," I said coldly, "but your rival insists you must die."

"I can offer you a fortune!" he begged, writhing in an attempt to escape my hold.

I tightened my grip, forcing him to groan in pain."10,000 Zephs!" he screamed, his voice trembling with fear.

I leaned in close, my breath brushing against his ear as I whispered, "That's a tempting offer, but it just so happens that's exactly what I've been paid to kill you."

I twisted his arm sharply, the sickening crack echoed through the room as he groaned in agony. "15,000 Zephs!" he gasped, desperation dripping from his words.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "You really think you can buy your way out of this?" I mocked, tightening my grip. "Throwing around numbers like that only proves how little you value your life."

His eyes darted around the room, wild and panicked. "How much do you want?" he spat, trying to mask his fear with bravado.

I sighed, shaking my head. "I might've considered a deal," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "but you've seen my face. That changes everything."

His expression twisted with rage, his eyes burning with fury. "So you never planned to let me live, you bitch!" he snarled, attempting to spit at me. I dodged effortlessly, my smirk never fading.

"I just wanted to see how much your life was worth to you," I replied, my tone cold and detached. "Turns out, you're even greedier than I thought."

The smile vanished from my face, replaced by a chilling darkness that seeped into my voice. I twisted his arm once more, and the bone snapped with a nauseating crack. His scream was muffled by my hand, which I clamped over his mouth to silence him. The nearest houses weren't close, but a scream could still carry in the dead of night.