Band of Misfits

Fourth Time's the Charm

i.

The first time someone tried to assassinate him, Kai had been in the middle of an etiquette lesson.

He was fourteen. Torin – his teacher – had a problem with the young prince's nervous tics, like his habit of gesturing with cutlery during dinner conversation.

"No, no, no," he would snap, interrupting Kai's practised small talk. "Don't wave your fork around like that, you're bound to paint someone's clothes with a carrot!"

Or, "For goodness' sake, boy, stop clinking with your spoon. It is deemed uncouth." When Kai would protest that it was hard to stir his tea like that, Torin would stare at him across the banquet table, slowly swish the spoon around in his own cup without making a sound, and raise his eyebrows as if to say, there, you see?

To which Kai would respond by sulking.

A servant came in with a fresh platter of roast duck, what would have been the third course during an actual banquet. The sound of the knife being drawn free was harsh and clear in the wide hall – which was empty but for the teacher, the prince, and the prince's guards, all of whom were looking forward to have some meat be cut for a pretend luncheon. No one thought anything of it until the servant had spun on her heel and the knife was whirling through the air, end over end, directly at Kai's chest.

Several things happened at once. The two guards yanked Kai aside, tipping him over in his chair, as the knife whizzed through empty space. The servant turned to run. And Torin, with strength no one could have suspected of him, gripped his end of the long table and flipped it over, right on the assassin's heels. She crashed to the ground.

One of the guards dashed to subdue her, the other sticking close to the prince. Kai managed to brace himself on one elbow, breathing heavily, and raised his eyes to his etiquette teacher. Torin was already tapping away on his port. In another minute, he had put it away and gave the would-be killer a cool look.

"Now that," he said disdainfully, sitting down again with an aristocratic sniff, "was just rude."

ii.

Attempt number two happened during the annual peace festival when he was seventeen. Kai had been wandering around for a while with no guards or surveillance whatsoever, all thanks to his gray hoodie. Granted, the chip in his neck meant that they knew where he was at all times, and there were probably a few guards somewhere in the crowd, but at least he didn't have to announce his presence by having them constantly at his back.

Kai cautiously approached a wine-tasting stand. He didn't usually drink, but the spicy aromas emanating from the kiosk just about made his mouth water.

"Try this one," the bearded wineseller encouraged him, holding out a paper cup filled with dark red liquid. "Very good, high quality. From the Silver Isles. Hints of raspberry and lemon." He smiled as Kai took the cup to his mouth and tipped his head back. "You like that sort of flavour, don't you, Your Highness?"

The wine had already passed his lips when Kai remembered that he was incognito. No civilian was supposed to know his identity.

He coughed violently, fearing the worst. It wasn't half a blink before half a dozen guards-dressed-as-partygoers appeared out of nowhere and converged upon the booth. There were yells, there was a crash as a wine barrel was dislodged and rolled down the street, and then there was a black city hover that cut through the crowd and stopped in front of the scene. A medic jumped out and ushered Kai inside. And a good thing, too, because his mind was already going woozy. Once he was safely behind the hover window, an antidote was forced down his throat and he was rushed to the palace without further delay.