Amaskan's Blood by Raven Oak (the best e book reader .TXT) 📗

through the window. He felt the circlet’s weight like he carried his horse across his brow, and for a moment, he resisted the urge to dash the object upon the stones outside. Instead of chucking it out the window, he set it aside and massaged his temples which pulsed with the beginnings of a headache. “I’ll make her Margaret’s sepier for the time being. Maybe the ranking will help her finish the job, so she can return home.”

“Give it time, Leon. Give her time.”

Time was one thing he did not have. Leon cupped his head in his hands. “The blood on her hands must not touch Margaret. We need the treaty that this marriage will bring. Iliana’s identity must remain a secret, even from my advisors.”

“Do ya doubt her ability?”

“Not at all. That’s the problem. I want my little girl back,” the father said. “I miss the little girl I sent away and grieve the loss of her all over again. This person who has returned is hardened and angry. I worry how much of this anger is directed at me. Did I make the correct choice in having you bring her back?”

“Only you can know that answer, Your Majesty, but I’ll say who better to protect Margaret than her own sister?”

“Iliana doesn’t look upon Margaret as a sister. When we spoke upon her arrival, she acted as if Margaret’s a piece of cattle she’s protecting. It’s unnerving, the detachment.”

“It’s necessary, Your Highness. Emotions are a weakness on the job.”

“And you would know?” He internally cursed the grin he felt grace his lips. Ida rested a hand on Leon’s shoulder, her fingers tracing circles across his tunic. It was a gesture he’d missed of late. She betrayed you, his mind spoke, and he argued back. Yes, she did.

“Adelei will protect Margaret, no matter her personal feelings.”

He sought out Ida’s face and saw a tiredness living there that was new. Neither of us is getting younger. I wonder which of us will go first? With this poison in me, I figured it would be me first to die. Leon knew well the scars that decorated her body, but there were new ones along her face that reminded him of the dangers of being sepier.

A position I’m giving to Iliana.

He ran a wrinkled finger across the light welt above her brow. “Who has been using you as target practice, hmmm?” It was a touch driven by instinct, and he pulled away as if burned.

“Tribor.”

Fear washed over him, then anger as images crossed by—the women he loved in this life fleeing and having fled such monsters. His fingers sought her wrist and tightened their grip. “Were you followed?”

“No, Your Majesty. Your talented daughter made very sure of that.”

The statement did not relieve him. If the Tribor were involved, maybe there was more to the rumors about Prince Gamun of Shad than he had originally given credit. Maybe this wedding was the disaster he had worried it was.

Ida interrupted his thoughts, her smile as fake as his own. “This wedding should be a joyful occasion—the joinin’ of two families. If it is advice ya seek, I would tell ya to forget all else for the time and allow Master Adelei to do her job. Enjoy the time with your daughter.”

Of course, if you’re betraying me still, you would say that. You would want this wedding to proceed. But her smile hung crooked, and her muscles tensed beside him. She wanted this no more than he did.

She left him alone in the room, alone to press the circlet back into place, its weight none the lighter. He stood then, shoulders back as he pushed his personal feeling aside. Today he must be king as he met with his advisors. He must be king first, and father second, if only for a brief time. Then he could enjoy time with his daughter, as Ida had recommended.

It was then that he realized she hadn’t said which daughter.

The serving girl who entered screamed as her foot connected with Adelei’s bed in the dim light that streamed in from the hallway. Furniture in the wrong location and a glint of steel sent her voice higher. The young girl’s dark outline was all Adelei could see in the darkness.

The girl’s hunched shoulders spoke her fear, and Adelei relaxed. An assassin wouldn’t be afraid and certainly wouldn’t trip over her bed. Adelei slid the dagger beneath her pillow. The servant’s eyes caught the blade as it moved, and she stumbled over something else as she backed out of the room.

Adelei groaned as she fell back against the bed’s mattress. Two guards dashed into her room with swords drawn. “Are you all right, Master? We heard a scream.”

“That would be the serving girl,” she muttered, her arm thrown over her eyes to block out the light. She listened to their footfalls withdraw and the door close behind them. Only after they retreated did she allow herself to fall asleep.

The next knock on her door arrived after Adelei had dressed, her clothes a mix of swordsman gear as she donned black leggings and a deep blue tunic. Instead of a hood, she wore a scarf wrapped around her head. While the look was Sadain, it didn’t scream Amaskan or so she hoped. At least these were styled after the Amaskan fighting gear. Just to be sure, she moved both arms and legs to test the outfit’s stretch and flexibility. It’ll do.

When the next servant entered, it wasn’t the frightened girl but a woman more than three times Adelei’s age. The woman braced thick feet in the door frame as she frowned at Adelei’s rearrangement of the furniture. I guess they decided to send me someone’s grandmother in hopes I wouldn’t kill her on sight.

“Name’s Charleena, master. I’m to see to your needs today.”

The servant’s lips pressed together in thin, grey lines as she eyed Adelei’s attire. “I’ll be needing a new chair.” Adelei pointed at the crippled chair in the corner.

While