Assassin (Book 1)

FIVE

My personal maid, Lorelle, walked into the room. She smiled.

"M'lady," she greeted.

"What do you want?" I asked flatly, pulling off my leather jacket.

"I'm here to give you your clothes." Her blue eyes twinkled, silky brown hair set in a bun above her head. She was beautiful, and she would've been married by now if her status was just a bit higher. She needed to work. She probably needed to support her parents, her siblings. Who had time for marriage?

Pants and shirts were slung over her right arm as she walked over to my wardrobe and began setting them neatly in there.

"I've never seen you smile before," I heard Lorelle say.

"Excuse me?" I raised my eyebrows coldly. "What are you talking about?" I fell back on my bed with a thud, resting my arms behind my head.

"You'd look beautiful if you smiled. And people wouldn't be that afraid of you."

I looked up at the ceiling, letting out a deep breath. I didn't reply. Why was everyone so interested in my life? "You're not that bad," she shrugged, still not looking at me.

I sat up and glanced at the weapons along the shelves. She peeked over her shoulder consciously towards where I was looking, but shook her head with a small smile, "You have a soft side deep down."

"Is that right? Well then you don't know me," I waved her off carelessly.

She giggled. "I think I can tell who you are by listening to Prince Xavier," her cheeks flushed. "He's been walking around, announcing he has a new lover."

I felt my face start to burn, my eyes narrowing. "Did he mention anyone's name?"

"Of course—it was Adalia, the world's sweetest assassin." I jumped off the bed, my vision blurring with anger.

"I'll kill him. I'll poison him. I will shoot him, and when he dies I'll kill him again."

I barged into his throne room where his slim body lay across his throne lazily, his head propped up on his fist. His royal blue cape lay around the throne carelessly, brushing the floor with its neat black trimmed edges.

"You're dead."

"Why?" he asked. "Couldn't handle the truth?"

"You're dead."

"Your face is bright red."

"Dead, I'm telling you," I snapped.

"Want to play checkers?" he drawled, a teasing smile appearing across his lips.

"Never in my life," I snarled. "Stop spreading lies about me." He didn't answer. "Stop smiling."

"Why do you care so much about what I'm doing?" he pouted.

"Just stop saying things about me. I don't appreciate it." I was debating whether the King would be pleased or not if I got rid of his son forever.

He seemed to go into a deep thought, squinting at me, his lips pursed. The silence seemed to go on for hours, when finally, Xavier sighed.

"Alright."

"Good." I jutted out my hip, arms crossed over my chest. My boot tapped against the floor.

"Father says you're leaving in a week," Xavier smiled, a dimple appearing in his left cheek. "Do you need help with anything? Should I arrange for someone to go with you?"

"Why do you care?"

"I'm just . . . wait, don't do that."

"I mean, do you . . . do you care about me?" I continued to imitate him, feeling a sudden surge of power. "Do you?" I asked with as much ice in my words as possible.