The Guardian

Chapter Four

The next few days were just a lot of the same.

Mainly escorting Isodore to events and standing to the side during all the meetings in his office. And attending dinners he threw. The story was that I was his second cousin, once removed, come to experience life in the city as I was raised in the north. Noble families were known for marrying distant cousins to keep the wealth and power within the family name, so no one questioned the affection that Isodore showed me in public, and they ignored the shivers that ran across my skin.

It was 6 days after Damian had shown me around the city, and I'd seen him another few times, that I sat by Isodore at yet another diplomatic dinner. My white dress had a very low neckline, exposing more than I was comfortable with even in my own company. The dress had silver embroidery at all the hems, the sleeves long and loose around my arms, but the skirt skin-tight from the waist down, stopping above my silver sandals. My hair had small braids pulled back, with sky blue ribbons wound through them. A huge sapphire necklace was around my neck, with matching bracelets on each wrist and a ring on my right middle finger. Dark powder was smudged around my eyes, courtesy of Phillipa and my lips were a shade of blood red.

As dinner ended, Isodore was leading me out as we farewelled different nobles and I nodded politely while he spoke. His arm was around my waist, pinning me to his side but his hand sat too far below my waist and it took all my self-control to not squirm out of his grasp and put a knife through his eye. However, my lips were in a smile, but my eyes were cold as ice, and just as sharp. His hand roved over my side and across my back as we climbed into our waiting carriage, and he had the common sense to sit across from me instead of beside.

He brushes his golden hair behind him with his hand and looks across at me, his gaze invasive. I hate it. I hate him. I only do my job because the King requested it. "Adelaide, you seem unhappy. What can I do to make you happy?"

"There isn't anything you can do, Isodore. Nothing," I look out the window as we clatter across the gravel roads, watching the brightly lit manors pass.

"There must be, Adelaide, surely something?" He gives a small shake of his head and tries to catch my eye.

"No, no, don't worry about it," I continue to watch the city and he has enough sense to shut up.

Once we arrive home a short while later, he offers his helping climbing out of the carriage but I ignore it, jumping out myself. As we walk up the short path to the door, his hands meet my body once more. I remain unflinching, my hair falling forward to hide my face, which is blank of emotion, eerily blank. We walk through a few hallways, past his room and he stops me just after we pass his door in a dark, shadowy corner. He turns his body so I'm forced to stay in the corner. One hand cups my face and I flinch away from it, but he puts the other on my waist.

"Adelaide," his voice is low and quiet, just like the rest of the house. He waits for a reply, but when he doesn't get one, he simply continues to speak. "I do wish I could make you happy, but I'm not sure how."

He leans in a little closer to my face and I snap, my hands against his chest and I shove him off, causing him to stumble back. "Stop! Just stop!" I stand breathless, letting my arms again fall to my sides.

Isodore regains his balance and holds out his hands in surrender. "Adelaide, why ever not?"

"Because I am your assassin, not your plaything," I shake my head, but my voice stays steady and my eyes like steel. "I am here to protect you, not to pleasure you. So if you value your head, don't ever touch me like a lover again."

He flinches a little at my words and I smile internally. Good. He should know the discomfort he makes me endure.

"Do you understand?" I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head slightly. "Then goodnight, Lord Hamlin, and do not summon me again unless it is worth my time."

He stares at me, anger starting to smolder in his eyes as I turn to head in the direction of my room, my head down. I walk a couple of metres before I look up and meet Damian's eyes, watching from halfway down the corridor, where he is stationed every night for the night shift.

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I hear Isodore's chamber doors close behind me with a resounding clang as I get nearer to Damian. I stop a few feet before I reach him and look up at him, meeting his sympathetic gaze with my own defeated one.

"Are you alright?" He's genuinely concerned and I give a small shake of my head.

"He wanted to bed me," my eyes are filling with tears but I will not cry. "He thought bedding me would make me happy. It's the complete opposite of what I want. He didn't even give me an option."

"Oh, Adelaide," he looks down at me, his shoulders slouching a little. "Take tomorrow off, I'll follow him around."

"I can't do that, I have to protect him, assassin and all, remember?" I raise an eyebrow, but considering his offer. "King's orders."

"The King asked you to protect him, not to deal with his romantic and intimate advances that you did not consent. Take tomorrow off and go to visit the Queen, why don't you? I'll make sure he's always covered, you needn't worry," he tilts his head a little, his offer so tempting.

"Thank you," I choke a little on my words as the tears spill down my cheeks and Damian wraps an arm around me, hugging me, if a little awkwardly.

"Are you alright to find yourself to bed?" He gives me a small smile and I nod. He ends up walking to my room anyway before returning to his post for the last hour or so.

I thank him before he leaves and I enter my room, finding Phillipa inside. I tell her to take the night and morning off, that I can look after myself, to simply have a carriage ready for me in the morning and to instruct that breakfast be sent to my room. She thanks me profusely before leaving and I pull off my shoes, and my jewellery, ripping the ribbon out of my hair as I braid it back.

I walk out onto my small balcony and grab onto the roof ledge, shimmying up onto the tiles in my tight dress. My dress is illuminated by the crescent moon as I find a seat in a slightly less-steep section of the roof. The back of the manor curves around the gardens in a C shape. I sit there for a while in silence, staring at the moon.

After a while, my gaze is captured by a movement within a room several doors down from mine. The balcony doors and curtains are open, and I have almost a clear view inside. I don't know whose room it is until I recognise the man inside. Damian. He unbuckles his sword from his side and rests it beside his bed and then starts to untie his armor. I watch him from my perch on the roof. The tunic underneath is plain and a mossy green. He runs a hand through his hair before pulling the tunic off, revealing a strong, tanned and muscled torso. I watch him move for another moment before averting my gaze, looking down at my bare feet.

I scramble up the tiles a moment later and over the peak of the roof, seeing Damian step out from his room. I drop below the peak and onto my balcony, like a glowing wraith in the night. I close my balcony doors and curtains behind me.

I quickly wash my face in the small bathroom before then collapsing into bed in the dress that still has Isodore's fingerprints and my tears staining it's surface.