Huntsman

9

"You should watch your back. I hear whispers at court that say the Queen has commissioned your assassin and will be sending him out soon. Some even say it is the Huntsman himself, though she has revealed nothing. Have the Seven be wary for an attempt any day soon. Good luck."

-letter from Lord Harding to General Deyanria Snow, dated the nineteenth day of the month of Rion in the fifth year of Queen Evelyn's reign.

I blinked my eyes open, my head still sore from the punch.

I really had to stop waking up like this.

Anyway, I was back in my rooms, this time actually on the bed. Which, on an unrelated thought, was really soft. But still, I had to find out how long I'd been out for.

About that, would it really kill them to install a clock in this place? Bad enough there were absolutely no windows in the whole room, simply dim lighting every hour of the day.

A knock echoed on the heavy metal doors, a stark contrast against the dark walls of the room.

Another knock, patient but insistent. Slightly timid, almost. Of course, she had probably been told that I could kill her at any given moment. That I would.  Goodness knew why, though that was probably part of whatever madness had severed the country in half these years. But that was beside the point.

"Enter."

A servant girl entered, her fair head bowed. Again, in fear or respect, I couldn't tell. Something told me the two were one and the same in this castle.

I cocked my head, not trusting myself to not give away anything. Safer this way. I had, after all, just kneed her before I got knocked out.

"The Queen requests for your presence. She has something to offer you in the throne hall. If you wish, I can escort you. Though I am sure she'd understand if you wished otherwise." A tentative glance back up.

Well then. If the Queen requested, I couldn't say no, now could I?

I nodded, drawing up to my full height. As she led me down the sprawling hallways, I sincerely wondered how much she knew about our... arrangement. How much the rest of the castle knew. Surely they could tell I was not a noble, even if I were supposedly incognito. What excuse could be given then?

Though judging from the lowered heads and exceptional jitteriness when aware I was around would certainly be explained by that.

No matter. Outside the great doors to the throne hall, I drew a breath, probably like countless others had right where I stood. It was her execution hall too, after all. Stepping past the threshold, the doors swung open silently, the only noise my boots against the cold stone floor. No doubt the reason it was chosen in the first place. Not that she didn't know exactly what was going on in her castle.

A lone figure in the center of the hall, I spied her guards placed carefully at the edges, in a non threatening way. This, I reminded myself, was the woman who played courtly intrigue daily, sending wordless messages to nobles, rebels and civilians alike.

Her back to me, the servant girl stopped, no doubt some courtly protocol. I walked ahead of her, eyes wary on the Queen. Absolutely still, I understood why the servants feared her so much. Even without facing me, her power emanated throughout the room, magnetic and alluring, yet dangerous and feared. Razor sharp, cutting through the tension around her, Tension that followed her everywhere.