The Assassins Guild

Chapter Ten

Three years ago

I walked after the girl in a strange state of surrealism. I could feel all eyes on me while I descended the arena. Everyone was still trying to understand how the hell Cassia Ivanov had been able to kill Galos. The glorious Galos. The second best assassin of our generation killed by the weakest member of the Ivanov family. How that was even possible when I've never killed anyone before? That was probably what everyone was thinking and they were right. I had no idea how I'd been able to kill Galos. I looked down, to my bloodied hands and frowned. Did you know that a drop of blood takes approximately sixty minutes to dry? It depends on the temperature of the room, of course, but my point was that life- however miserable and pointless as Galos's life had been-took an entire hour to completely dry off. His hot blood was already starting to dry under my nails. I had the insane impulse to try to dry my hands on my clothes. Then I remembered that my clothes were already covered in Galos's blood and that thought made me laugh. It would have been so stupid to try to clean my hands when I was all covered in blood. I couldn't stop laughing. It was such a funny thought.

The girl in the front stopped and looked at me over her shoulder with an impassive expression. She studied me silently, as if I were a butterfly with my wings pinned to a wall. There was something about her eyes that made me stop laughing. I couldn't put my finger on it but I was sure that girl hated me for some reason. Which was a fact that puzzled me. I've never seen her before in my entire life. Was I getting better at pissing people off? Have I managed to make enemies of strangers. That thought made me crackle up. Oh boy. My mother would be so proud of me. I'd not only killed someone, but now people hated me for no reason. I keep laughing, my laughter growing maniac and wild on the hall where we were standing. I knew this was a nervous shock. My body was high on adrenaline after killing and my brain was trying to keep up with my physiological responses. I just couldn't stop laughing. I'd seen other assassins laughing after killing before. I thought they were insane. Now I knew different. They weren't insane, they were just...coping. The girl curled her lip at me in contempt and opened a side door. I would've never been able to find that hidden door if it wasn't for her. The door was perfectly concealed in the darkness. It had not handles and no locks. Just a push of her shoulder and a sliver of light brightened the dark hall where I'd been standing. I stopped laughing once again when another thought ran through my mind. Why exactly the King wanted to see me? We'd hardly talked when he lived at our school. And after becoming a King I'd only seen him once before, when I've cut his hair. Why he wanted to see me now? Why had he come here in the first place?

The door opened an inch wilder and I walked into the room. It was a dark room with sparse furniture. There were lanterns on the wall that barely lightened my steps when I moved deeper into the room. The walls and the floor had been covered in a dark velvety fabric. And seated in a dais by the end of the room was our beloved king. He was seated in a normal chair, but he made it look like a throne. Majestic. He was simply and purely majestic. It wasn't just that he looked like a God, with his incredible powerful body and elegant face, but the man was imposingly big. Larger than life, strong from within and composed. His black eyes were wise beyond his years to the point it was almost impossible to believe we were the same age. Crow was dressed in black. He wore a large coat and a matching sweater with a turtleneck, tailored pants and italian shoes. His face appeared as if it had been carved in white marble, with features that were as elegant as cold. And he had let his hair grow again. It reached his shoulders in tousled waves that gave him a vampiric air. I wondered for just a second if he hadn't cut his hair since the last time we'd seen each other. Then I remembered he had disappeared on me an entire year and hated myself for even thinking about him. His black eyes moved down and up my body, inspecting me as hungrily as I'd inspected him. It was weird for Crow to show so much attention to me openly, but I tried to imagine how I would look and admitted to myself that I probably looked deranged. You know, since I was covered in blood and all that. It was always a weird contrast between us. Crow always composed, me...always chaotic.