A Dark King's Daughter II: The Assassin's Daughter

chapter 8

“Still hurt I see.” Jaffar said, at another day of practice.

Sain grimaced. It was getting better. But wasn’t better enough for Jaffar to keep stabbing at it.

“Well anyways, I want to see your work on Esmé’s dagger.”

Sain nodded, and pulled the finished piece out of its hiding spot. The silver had been polished to a very reflective gleam, and the metal had been laced perfectly at the edge.

Jaffar took it from his hand and examined it. Sain had neatly etched into the metal a small floral pattern with wrapping vines and leaves. It was perfectly sharp and slanted correctly at the edges. It was also perfect in shape.

He smirked at Sain’s work. He was actually proud that Sain had put effort into it. But he frowned when he noticed a small date at the bottom of the dagger, towards the hilt. It was the exact date engraved on his killing edges’ sheathes.

“What is this?” Jaffar asked, trying to hide his suspicion.

“A date of legacy.” Sain answered proudly. He had obviously prepared his answer. He knew his father’s unfailing eyes would never miss any detail on Esmé’s dagger.

Jaffar slowly looked up, dagger still in hand. Sain was fifteen, and looked exactly as he did at that age. It was almost scary to Jaffar, to look into his son’s face and see his own battered reflection. Except Sain wasn’t stained by blood, death and scars. He prayed his son never would be.

“Legacy?” Jaffar cautiously asked.

“Yes. I presume you know the date.”

“Indeed I do.” Jaffar narrowed his eyes. Sain stood straight and still with a blank face. “Where did you see this?”

“The killing edges.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he slowly handed the dagger back, still staring hard into Sain’s eyes. His mouth was set into a tight line, and his expression turned cold.

“Sain, you’ve disobeyed me.”

“I was only looking at them.” He responded calmly. “And I noticed the date. The day you became an assassin.”

“It isn’t very wise to assume things, Sain.” Jaffar answered after a moment.

“You’re an assassin, Father.” Sain smirked. “I know it.”

“How were you informed?”

“I figured it out.”

“Impossible.” Jaffar narrowed his eyes again. Sain could tell that he was his exact image- physically and mentally. If Sain truly was his son, then Jaffar was being very cautious at that moment. He wouldn’t be angry, but he’d be disgruntled.

Sain took a step closer, his eyes fierce in that old way Jaffar remembered all too well. Sain knew too much. He was never meant to find out. It was to be hidden, kept a secret. Now that he knew, Sain had become a great danger. Jaffar could predict perfectly well what was going to happen now. He had to be careful. Sain was going to want to become exactly like him. He would want to become a killer.

“I want to learn.” Sain continued. “I want to become perfect like you have in the skill.” He thought of the scars around his mother’s neck. He wondered if Jaffar ever caused a single one of those. He knew she wore the broken shard around her neck, and it only made him curious as to why. “I want to know.”

“No, you don’t.” Jaffar’s expression didn’t falter. He refused to teach his son in the art.

“Father, I can do this.” Sain’s eyes hardened into seriousness. “I want to learn.”