Islands in the Sky

2.2

By chance, the first through the door was Konstantin, the family weapons master. He began to open the door, and seemed, almost as he did, to realize that something was wrong, and different to every other day. He realized even before the door was open enough for him to see the room properly, so perhaps he knew Cassa well enough to expect something like this, or perhaps he saw the empty bed and reacted before he could think.

Whatever the reason, he slammed the door fully open, hard, thumping it into Cassa, who was still hiding behind it with a dagger in her hand.

The door hit her in the arm, bruisingly, and then the chest before she could slow the door very much with her arm. It winded her. It knocked the breath out of her, and hurt her as well.

Konstantin hadn’t needed to be so rough, she thought, irritated. He ought to have guessed it was her standing there. Not that it would necessarily have mattered to him even if he had, she supposed. Perhaps Konstantin had expected actual danger, and reacted before he could think, or perhaps he hadn’t expected anyone to be behind the door at all, and had just flung it open to see the room better. But perhaps he had expected someone, and had realized it would be Cassa, and perhaps he knocked the door into her that hard quite deliberately. He had a way of teaching painfully memorable lessons.

It didn’t matter, Cassa thought. She had failed now, anyway. She gasped for air, and pushed the door back towards Konstantin, freeing herself, and then backed away from it and him before he could slam it into her again. She was winded, and couldn’t breathe, but she went backwards away from him all the same. She got herself out of his reach, and out of the most danger, before he could do anything else to her.

Then she stopped to breathe.

Danger was relative, around Konstantin. He could probably kill her with a thrown knife before she could stop him if he wished, but that wasn’t actually her concern, not right now. Her concern was slaps or knocks or painful blows. It was Konstantin deciding to strike her now, to teach her not to fail at ambushes, or not to expect fair treatment, or not to lower her guard just because she was sore and someone who was supposed to be trustworthy was standing before her.

Konstantin had limitless painful lessons to teach, so Cassa moved away before he decided to teach her one. She backed away, and Konstantin didn’t follow her, so she went halfway across the room, and then stopped, and stood where she was, gasping for air.

And Konstantin just watched her.

Cassa took a deep breath, and decided her chest didn’t hurt more than it ought to. She wasn’t injured, only sore. She took another breath, and calmed herself down.

Only then did she realize she still had a dagger in her hand.

She’d had no time to hide it, and that made it fairly obvious why she’d been behind the door.

Konstantin watched her realize. He watched her glance down at the dagger, guiltily. He grinned, mockingly, but seemed unconcerned by the weapon. At least, he didn’t draw one of his own.

He just kept grinning.

“Charming,” Konstantin said. “My lady. Inept but clever.”

Cassa glared at him. “Don’t be rude,” she said.

“Not rude,” he said. “Disappointed in my favourite.”

“Oh,” Cassa said. “Why?”

“I assume you were there for the reason I think you were there?” Konstantin said.

“How would I know what you assume?” Cassa said sharply.

“A murder to call off a wedding? It is moderately clever, my lady.”

“Moderately clever?” Cassa said, offended.

“A sensible plan, if only you weren’t so inept about carrying it out…”

“I was not…” Cassa sighed. “Please don’t be rude.”

“You were inept. You ought to have expected it would be me who opened the door, since I do every other day.”

“I told you not to come today. I sent a message.”

“And I ignored it. As you should have expected.”

Cassa sighed. That was true. “Probably,” she said after a moment.

“Although I’m curious,” Konstantin said. “What if it hadn’t been me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you really have killed a servant?”

Cassa shrugged. “Perhaps.”

“Truly?” Konstantin said, sounding surprised.

“I don’t know. Perhaps not. I wanted to, though. I want this to work, although I suppose not to kill someone.”

Konstantin nodded, and smiled, and seemed almost pleased with her, for once. “Well then,” he said.

“You’re not angry.”

“Neither angry nor not. Disappointed at your ineptitude.”

“Don’t call me inept.”

Konstantin grinned again. “Come,” he said, after a moment. “You know why I’m here. Get ready. It is time for morning practice.”

“Not today.”

“Oh absolutely today.”

“Not today, I said,” Cassa said, trying to sound firm.

“And what makes you think the choice is yours? Now or any other day?”

Cassa glared at him, but didn’t answer.

“No because it is your wedding day?” Konstantin said. “Or no because you plan murder?”

“Both,” Cassa said, after a moment. “Neither.”

“Either way,” he said. “Either marriage or murder, it is good day for training. So come.”

Cassa stood there.

“Come,” he said again.

She glared at him, but decided a last practice together would be nice. She owed him that, she supposed, since in an odd way he had always been her only actual friend. She sighed, and then put her dagger away, and pulled on her over-shirt to go outside. The shirt was made of the soft, durable magical cloth of the ancients, and would be warm enough on its own, even on a cool morning like this.

She went over to the door, and picked up her boots.

“No shoes,” Konstantin said.

She looked up. “It’s cold.”

“And sometimes assassins will come for you when you are barefoot,” he said. “No shoes today.”

She sighed, and put the boots down, and followed him up to the private rooftop courtyard.

Her first plan hadn’t succeeded, she thought as she walked, but that didn’t mean she had failed. If being part of her family had taught her anything, it was that plans came in threes and sixes and tens, and a single failure did not mean a cause was lost.

She would think of something else. She would find another way to stop this wedding. She would do that later on, when Konstantin had got bored and left her alone. For now, she would practice, because a last practice would be nice. Because it would probably be her last practice, no matter what happed today.

And because training with Konstantin, she would need all her wits about her, or otherwise she might be hurt. Even on her wedding day.