Short Story Collection

The Dilemma

Five minutes. Don't be seen. Don't get caught. Never leave a trace. She knew the rules, she had always followed them before. This time was different.

She made her way across the palace grounds, hurrying but being mindful not to seem unladylike. She found the thought amusing. She was an assassin, trained to be quick and efficient. But now, to do this job, she had to take the small dainty steps of a court noblewoman. What madness.

Red cloak. Find the red cloak. Four minutes. Find the man in the red cloak, give him the poison, and leave without causing a scene. She stared across the courtyard of the royal palace—it was mostly empty, but there was still not red cloak in sight—

"Oomph!" She fell to the ground, hand flying to her shoulder as the person who she'd just run directly into held her free arm, trying to slow her fall. "I'm so terribly sorry, my lady," the man's warm voice apologized.

"Oh, no. Forgive me, sir. I am afraid—" She stopped, finally raising her head to meet to man's eyes. She recognized him at once. It had been many years and hundreds of faces, but one never forgot her first love."Dmitri?" she gasped. She looked him over—oh, how he had grown! And what a beautiful... She froze as she thought the words. What a beautiful red cloak.

"Anna?" he responded, finally seeming to place her face and pulling her to her feet. "Anna! How are you? It's been too long! Come, you must say hello to everyone. My father will be so pleased to see you—"

She stopped, wrenching herself out of his grasp. His father. The king. The one who had hired her. Dmitri came to a halt as well, looking at her curiously. "It shouldn't be you. It was supposed to be a courtier. Not...Not you."

"Anya, what are you--"

"Don't," she begged, sidestepping his outstretched arm. "Please don't call me that. I can't..." She couldn't think straight, could barely bear past the sound of her heart pounding in her chest.

"Anna, please. Tell me what's wrong. I can help."

"How? Even you aren't safe here! And you are the prince.What am I? The girl who was cast away at age five when her parents couldn't take care of her at court anymore. There is no help for me. There never was. Now neither of us are safe."

"Not safe? Anna, I think you're unwell. Please come inside. We can talk—"

"No. I can't..." She closed her eyes, a thousand thoughts running through her mind. But she'd made her decision. Treason be damned. "I can't tell you everything. But there is a carriage arriving for me in two minutes to take me away from this place. I must ask you to come with me."

"Anya, you aren't making sense."

"When we were children, you trusted me completely. I need you to do that again, right now." Her eyes pleaded with him.

He was taken aback by her words, searching her face for something, some facet of an answer. Giving up finally, he nodded. "Always.That was our promise, wasn't it? By the wishing tree? To protect each other now and forever after."

Tears pricked her eyes. "You remember that?"

He nodded and smiled. "I trust you. I always have. If it is that important, I will follow you, even until death. I promise."

"Then I promise, too. Till death do us part?"

He took my hand and squeezed it gently. "Till death do us part."