Noble Assassin

Chapter 6.3 (Damsel not in Distress)

By the end of the week, Rizelle was sick of the soup and porridge that were all she'd been able to consume. "Just one more day," Ayris assured her, but it did nothing to brighten her mood. Neither did perusing the small library tucked into a corner of the mansion.

One of the few things to cheer her days was Autumn, the kitten. When Rizelle had presented her to Ayris, the assassin merely shrugged, not deigning to say a word. This, Rizelle decided to take as permission to do as she willed.

Old Bernie turned out to be a sullen figure, but he took good care of Autumn. Rizelle left her with him, but spent some time each day playing with her – time that stirred feelings of warmth within her. The kitten was far from healed, but was making good progress.

On her first visit to Autumn, Rizelle finally met the remaining occupants of the estate. She'd been walking through the corridors, accompanied by Feyn, when they encountered Aster.

Yet, when she'd greeted her, it became apparent that she was not, in fact, Aster. Instead, she turned out to be Zinnia, one from a set of identical triplets, all three of whom worked as servants for Ayris. Also, Old Bernie happened to be their grandfather.

As interesting as all that had been, Rizelle's week quickly dulled. It didn't help when Feyn, joining her at breakfast that Sunday, decided to needle her with questions about her life. "So, where are you from? Where are your parents?"

Rizelle looked up from her oatmeal to fix a blank stare at him. In the few days she'd known him, she hadn't started to like him any better; something about him rubbed her up the wrong way.

And she'd finally figured out what that was. Her limited experience dealing with boys her age – limited meaning practically non-existent – meant that it was already a difficult task, but because he was...charming and bright and charismatic...

That made it difficult for her to ignore the task of having to deal with him in the first place. She was quiet and secretive, and he was, by comparison, just about boisterous. She didn't appreciate the uncontained curiosity on his part, either.

"I barely know you," she snapped. "Why would I tell you things I have told no one else?"

"Good question." He leaned forward with a smirk. "I can be very persuasive. Countless girls would readily blurt their life stories if I wanted."

Rizelle snorted. "Mhmm," she said, heavy with scorn. "And I suppose you'll be charming your targets to death, too."

"Oh, don't mistake me for being all charm." Feyn's grin sharpened. "You haven't seen my dark side yet."

"I hate to interrupt," a now familiar voice broke in before Rizelle could retort, "but I've come to rescue Rizelle from you, Feyn." Ayris, wearing an elegant green dress, appeared in the doorway. She had a bundle of cloth in hand, which she tossed onto Rizelle's lap. "Put that on. We're going into the city."

While Rizelle draped the cloak over her shoulders, Feyn drawled all too innocently, "That hurts, Ayris. No lady should ever need rescuing from me."

This time, Ayris joined in with Rizelle's snort.

At the door, Rizelle turned. "I can't wait for training to start," she remarked, flinging a vicious grin of her own. "Because you'll never think I'm a lady or a damsel in distress once I've defeated you."

"I look forward to it," he responded, mirth dancing in his eyes.

Ayris led her out the majestic wooden front door, where a carriage awaited them, driven by Old Bernie. As soon as they were settled in, it jerked into motion. Outside the tiny window, the estate drifted by.