The Target of His Heart (An Assassin's Creed Fanfic)

Ch. 5: A Rose in the Field of Weeds

Cynthia’s POV

That Night...

I silently lied in my bed, blankets lying over me comfortably, for what seemed like a few hours. Night time had arrived so quickly, yet I did not seem to notice it all that much. In fact, I was much too distracted to even tell what time of day it was anymore. My mind was on other things at hand; the other things happening to be why I was still alive and breathing, awaiting the arrival of my wedding. Not only was I thinking of that, but I was busy thinking of Altaïr as well. Oddly, despite my near death experience, he never seemed to leave my mind for even a moment; not since I last saw him looming over me as a lion would their prey. My curiosity and wonder still wracked my head for answers: Why would he leave me to live when it was clear that I was his target? Was it not true that we were sworn enemies on two different sides of the scale? I sighed as I turned onto my side, away from doors leading onto my balcony. Sworn enemies are meant to kill one another if the situation arises, I thought to myself, not stab them and leave them knowing the enemy would live on to see another day.

On another note that did not involve the Assassin, after having sent off the others for the day, a guard approached me and said that Abel had requested my presence in his quarters. Knowing that it may have had something to do with the other day’s events of my attempted escape from the city, I, for once, decided to comply calmly. When I arrived and saw him, it was clear on his face that he appeared worried for me, as he was surrounded by civilians and guards. His eyes, however, gave another message entirely. As always, though, he did not show it to the others as he embraced me in a warm hug, telling me how much he was still worried about me and the wound that was inflicted along with other lies he came up with on the spot. I knew what he was planning. He chose to wait until the time was right to actually voice what he really wanted to tell me, and it was clear I was not going to hear the end of it for a very long while. When the guard left the room he occupied by himself – I certainly was not going to stay in the same room as him – he shut the door behind him and locked it. I knew what was to come, but I stood my ground and stood tall as he turned to look at me, his eyes filled with a calm anger, one I was too familiar with.

“What the in the name of the Lord were you thinking?” He questioned, his voice matching his expression perfectly.

I blinked as I gave him a blank stare.

“I was doing what I felt I needed to do in order to get out of this wedding for good,” I responded truthfully.

He shook his head as he began walking toward me at a slow pace.

“That was the one of the most ridiculous moves you ever tried to make, Cynthia,” he told me. “Trying to escape your wedding by running away. That’s called being a coward, you know.”

“It is called having little options,” I retorted angrily. “No one believes the things I say about you, the truths I speak of. So what is the point of staying here when no one believe the person they have known and respected all their lives?”

He chuckled condescendingly.

“It is because you are only a young princess, believed to be nervous for her wedding,” he responded condescendingly, stopping in front of me, “and nobody wants to believe a princess with very little power in the land. They want to believe someone who is strong and caring, someone who looks out for them.”

“I am strong and caring and someone who cares for them! They have known me longer than you, Abel,” I hissed angrily. “They know that I am not some spoiled child seeking the attention of others like you.”

He laughed before placing a hand on my cheek. I felt disgusted by his touch.

“They already think you are doing just that, my dear,” he said. “With the amount of rumors you are starting about me, they only think you are doing so to bring more publicity to yourself.”