The Rebel Assassin

Chapter 3: The King's Councilor

Every straight-backed wooden chair of the meeting hall was filled in two straight lines on either side of the long, polished table, stretching all the way down the room to Roman's place at the head. It was so still and orderly and quiet you could have thought it a series of reflections in a mirror, the only flaw in the symmetry being Joshua himself. Standing behind and to the right of Roman's chair, he was the only person not seated, and the only person who hadn't had the decency to pretend he wasn't carrying weapons.

Even Morane's obsidian-handled knife clips were tucked into her coiled braid like innocent accessories, even Ysmay's only visible blade was her sharp tongue, even Roman's black-bladed daggers were laid flat and hidden against his skin and under his sleeves.

When Roman had asked just an hour before if Joshua was coming to the meeting, Joshua hadn't known what to say. It was expected that only the most important people on both sides would attend. Joshua wasn't Roman's right-hand man anymore— that was very clear by the fact that he had no seat. So no, he hadn't thought he was coming.

"I didn't prepare," he'd said, as an excuse.

"Come as you are," was the nonchalant answer. Except that nothing Roman did was casual or unplanned, so he'd probably wanted Joshua lurking over his shoulder like an overgrown guard dog, every blade visible, and now here they were.

One hand resting on the hilt of his sword— plain and utilitarian, nothing like the ostentatious one he'd carried as the Captain. The blade of the sword was now welded to a new hilt and locked in Roman's room, and Joshua could comfort himself knowing that Roman had appreciated that gift as much as he'd expected him to.

The other hand on the back of Roman's chair, his skin warm against the polished surface and so close to the bare skin of Roman's neck exposed above his high collar, and yet not a single touch was shared.

Joshua was being as still as he knew how, yet every breath he drew in felt like too much movement.

"...so yes, unfortunately, we have lost Aiden Amathos and his resources," Ysmay concluded. When her voice died out there was silence, as everyone waited on Roman's reaction.

He shrugged. His unselfconsciously squared shoulders lifted for an instant almost to Joshua's fingertips, and then fell. "As long as the loss does not affect the Assassin's Court, I have nothing to say. Amathos was nothing to me."

Aiden leaving the Phoenix? Joshua frowned, drawn very suddenly from his own thoughts and into the meeting. That wasn't good. How did he used to discretely signal to Roman that he had something urgent to tell him when they were in a formal setting? Ysmay was opening her mouth again, he was going to lose his chance to say what he was starting to feel was very important.

"Aiden was a mage," he blurted out.

Eyes flicked from perusing documents or staring, bored, at the ceiling to look at him in surprise.

Okay, that definitely wasn't how they used to signal. Too late now.

"We know that," Ysmay said, annoyed.

Well now he had to make this count. Roman would be angry if he embarrassed the court by speaking out, even if it was his fault for bringing him along. And anyway, Joshua wouldn't stand humiliation. "Aiden was particularly interested in the Guardians. I don't know how much of this is common knowledge, but he once worked closely with the Sage before they had a falling out. They shared knowledge that led to Aiden creating some kind of orb with anti-Guardian magic. I happened to come into procession of the prototype."

Morane yelled out a word that didn't belong in long, stately, polished meeting halls, and Joshua sighed in relief as everyone jumped and turned to stare her instead.