The first casualty of war is innocence. Imogen Cadwell knew this truth to have power, strength, fortitude. She'd lost her innocence when she was eight, in a war against those who destroyed her home. And now, a decade later, she remained in a prison cell as the punishment to her acts of "war".
That was, until now.
Adarlan's Assassin trudged down the stone corridors of Endovier, the largest prison in the nation. Her hands and feet were shackled, the sound of her chains dragging behind her the only sound aside from her own breathing and the footsteps beside her. A gloved hand rested on her shoulder, jerking her to and fro as they made their way down the hallways.
Imogen sniffed at the cologne permeating the air, and wondered just what the decorated man serving as her escort did in Adarlan to afford such garb and commodities. It had been a year since she'd seen luxury fabrics, perfumes and jewels, and the wyvern-adorned crest of Adarlan marking the man's armor. A soldier, no doubt. The stern expression on the man's tan face assured that.
The blonde girl averted her gaze to what was before them, and she found herself staring down two more Adarlanian soldiers. At their arrival, they stood tall, opening the steel door behind them.
"I'd at least expect a hint as to what's behind Door Number One," Imogen drawled, her voice scratchy from days of screaming and silence. She glanced up at her escort of a soldier, who dared to meet her jade gaze with his mocha one, before lifting his eyes up again.
"Walk in and find out," The soldier said gruffly.
Imogen quirked an eyebrow, but straightened her posture. With as much dignity as she could given her chains, she sauntered into the large room, the soldier at her side.
At the sight of what awaited before her, Imogen felt her heart sink to her stomach. In her decade as an assassin, she'd seen a multitude of troubling sights: blood, gore, the absence of humanity at her own hands. She'd seen armies marching through her home, heard the screams of her people, and the smoke of the destruction. She'd felt lashings upon her back, the blood spilling from the wound and the salt from the mines making up the prison rubbed within them. She'd seen and felt it all, and yet nothing prepared her for what was inside.
Adarlanian soldiers lined the walls of the immaculate room, at the ready. A small space was cleared for Imogen to stand before a throne on a dais, atop which, lounged a tall boy with chestnut hair and emerald eyes. A blood-red cape was draped across his shoulders, spilling over the throne. A golden crown sat atop his hair, marking his title.
A soldier shoved Imogen to the ground, and she grit her teeth to keep herself from fighting back. "Kneel before Crown Prince Kaden Gray of Adarlan."
Imogen took a slow breath, shooting a glare at the soldier who had shoved her before returning her gaze to the son of her enemy on the throne. She felt as if her heartbeats had been amplified, running rampant in her chest. Here was the son of the man who had issued the command to destroy Terrasen, her home country. Here was the son of the man who had sent thousands upon thousands to their deaths or enslavement, Imogen included.
"Imogen Cadwell," Crown Prince Kaden Gray spoke, his voice as clear as crystal. "I must say, I've heard a great deal about you."
"Hard to be considered infamous when even the Crown Prince knows who you are, your Highness," Imogen mumbled, surprised at the clarity in her own voice.
The prince's lips quirked into a smile, as if he hadn't expected Imogen to speak. "I'm sure," He began. "But I have brought you from your cell to discuss a...business proposal, I guess you could call it."
Imogen staggered to her feet, nearly triggering the dozen soldiers lined along the walls. Prince Kaden sighed, eyeing the guard standing behind Imogen. "Alexander, will you please tell your men to stand down? Also, unchain the girl."
The guard, Alexander, nodded to the prince and waved his men off. They returned to their positions as their commander moved forward, and Imogen watched suspiciously as the dark-haired boy unlocked the shackles from her hands and feet. She relished in the literal feeling of freedom, but under the emerald gaze of the crown prince, she felt as if she had a long way to go before she could fully savor it.
"Allow me to introduce Captain Alexander Devan of the Guard," Prince Kaden motioned to the man who had unchained her. "Should you agree to my terms, he will be your personal guard and trainer."
"With all due respect, Highness," Imogen nearly spat on the words. "You have yet to tell me what this proposition of yours is."
The crown prince nodded, standing from his throne. "I would like you to be my champion."
Imogen snorted. "Fat chance of that." She waved to the shackles now pooled on the ground.
However, Prince Kaden only smiled. "There is to be a competition of sorts in Rifthold, held in the Glass Castle. Most of the nobility and royalty, myself included, are to have a person of...particular talents as their representative. These representatives will endure a series of challenges, and the person left standing at the end will be my father's champion." The prince clasped his hands before him.
Imogen waited for the catch. "This end you speak of," She began slowly. "Is it a fight to the death?"
"You assassins," Crown Prince Kaden laughed incredulously. "So morbid. No, it is not a fight to the death. Those who don't fill the expectations in each round will merely be sent back to their homes or prisons. No harm, no foul."
Imogen weighed his words. To spend a certain amount of time in his home, the home of his sinister father, in order for a job title?
"You'll have full access to the castle, as well as Rifthold itself. Well, with a guarded escort. You won't be a prisoner in the castle, Imogen. You'll be treated with as much respect as the rest of us." Prince Kaden continued.
Imogen averted her gaze, the possibilities streaming before her becoming endless. This could be a trick, a plot in order to execute the supposed "bane" of Adarlan. She had ties to the King of the Assassins himself, it could all be a trap to get to him through his most prized asset.
And yet, the old fire that Imogen had once harbored, the fuel to her actions, ignited within her. She could feel it begin to burn in her veins, eating up this opportunity that could buy her her freedom.
"Done," Imogen spoke, her voice echoing of the walls of the room they were in.
Crown Prince Kaden grinned, and after a few more words, continued on his way. An escort of soldiers, led by Captain Devan, guided Imogen in the prince's wake. And the whole while, Imogen couldn't shake the prince's eyes, of emerald and mysteries, out of her head. The eyes of his father, his bloodline that had condemned countless kingdoms and territories to ash and dust.
Imogen would win this competition, if only to see those unseeing eyes on the King of Adarlan's head, rolling on the floor at her hand at the end of it all.
