The Failed Assassin

Negotiations

Wilhelm was getting tired of this, he had dealt with too much. Courtconstantly, his parents, and Opal. Opal was by far the worse, itwasn't as if she was doing anything she normally didn't but there wassomething about dealing with her that put him on edge.

He couldn't even lay with her if he didn't imagine someone else inher place. That had never been a problem before but now, someone wasinvading his thoughts.

Damn that Natasha! Why could she get in his brain every other second.Witch! Fae! Mocking changeling!

He was tired of it. She would tell him who she was, all of hersecrets, he was tired of this!

First thing in the morning, when the sun had finally risen Wilhelmwas already ready and he marched down, looking to every guard like aman on a mission. He was. There were whispers among the guards,asking if they were ready, if everything was set up and if he wouldkill the Maker. The stories had slipped through and now every guardknew she was a Maker though none outside of the palace walls knew andby the time it got to the common people it would be more fantasy thantruth.

When he burst into the tower she was kept in he froze. She wassleeping, somehow sleeping through him rushing into here. Though tohim it was the heart beating like a earthquake and he felt like hisstomping was even worse. However having been trained almost sincebirth how to move with grace and poise, he had a fluid movement likewater. His face remained impassive the only showing that he wasn'teasy going like he always acted was the tense set of his shoulders.Still he moved with a fluidity that most would be jealous of.

However entering the room, he growled to himself when he realized hehad been thinking of this as 'her room' as 'Natasha's room'. What waswrong with him?! She was not a house guest of his, she was hisprisoner! The fact she was a Maker was the only reason that shewasn't dead, that she hadn't been killed by him himself.

Despite what he was saying to himself, the thought of looking intothose lively green eyes flat and dead sent a thoroughly unpleasantshudder through him. All thoughts stop as he finally looks up intothe bed and sees her sleeping so soundly. The few times he had seenher slumber it had struck him and this time was no exception.

She was sleeping so peacefully, the sun's rays having slipped intothis room and was gently stroking her face as she clung the pillow toher. Instead of her hair looking a lot like fire, which he had alwaysthought it does instead it looked like the warm candlelight insteadof a raging inferno. She was lying on her side with the blanketpulled all the way up to her chin, clinging to the pillow and fromthe form from what Wilhelm could see through the blanket it lookedlike she was curled up.

She looked so innocent.

She was a fiery hellion.

She seemed so restful.

She was as cunning as a cat.

She truly did look like a Grace. Pure, kind, all the peace of heaven.