Chapter 2: Restless Minds
The wine proved to be somewhere in the middle, not cheap enough to cause raging headaches, not rich enough to ask about where it was sold.
Zephyr was fine with that as he lay awake, thinking about Riselle’s new mission.
Amadi set up Riselle’s room on the opposite side of the forge, and Zephyr’s room next to his.
After all those years of ringing iron and steel, his own hearing was deteriorating, so if the two of them began to fight he wouldn’t get to her in time. As much as he admired Zephyr, his duty had brought him to a crisis point: protect Riselle, at all and any cost.
But what if he didn’t, or couldn’t? The guild had money on them either way.
If Zephyr only knew…but he can’t. A boy with a deadly skill set, and an innocence despite that, that’s yet untried in the world. He’ll either be jaded or dead in the next five years.
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Riselle was mentally kicking herself and did not get under the covers Amadi provided for the bed she’d use.
She thought Zephyr would understand there was nothing to be gained in keeping Gale and Karis alive. Indeed, their demise would put a huge dent in the expanding of Kenjin’s markets.
That Karis would be instrumental in that expansion, Riselle had no doubts.
Gale was another matter. If Zephyr was able to talk to her, then perhaps she too would be interested in helping them depose Karis. She supposed she could let him try after all.
As for Zephyr himself, he threatened to stop her if she made an attempt to kill Gale.
It was good that he felt the confidence to try her; it was bad because he wouldn’t win, and in the ensuing duel, she’d have to hurt him.
And if he persisted after that…
The thought of killing him pained her, but above all else, assassins learned self-preservation, so she’d prove no exception to the rule if he tried her.
The hours he’d sparred and practiced had accelerated his progress past all expectations.
He’d prove a formidable match, even with all her experience and completed assignments.
The epiphany hit her like a brick in the forehead: He loves her.
She never felt more stupid…
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Zephyr was seething.
He tried to keep it at that level, and not rage, not let his emotions cloud his judgment.
Not let the fact that she gave herself to me turn me into a world-blind fool.
In his years at the palace, he’d been betrayed before, but not by those who truly advocated for him. There were those who’d helped him thrive, fill out, and grow strong; while he’d never outlive the bones-on-a-rope thing, he was determined not to stay that way.
Where he was strong, Riselle was nimble.
Where he was straightforward, she was subtle.
Where he was heavy handed, she was dextrous.
He imagined it would be much like a lion swatting at a dragonfly.
The imagery didn’t make him smile; she’d be a fast and narrow target that would likely slash him open before he realized he was cut.
There was no way he’d beat her in a fair fight; his targets were unaware of his presence and intentions, and he wasn’t above stabbing them in the back.
Riselle was too well trained not to know where he was and what he intended.
If she goes after Gale, I’ll have to kill her from a distance.
When he’d read the history of the Guild, it had once been an honor for a trainee to wound his mentor. Some had been more severe than others, but none had killed those who taught them.
It was rare that mentors were beaten, but it had happened, and those proteges and prodigies who’d done so went on to have fearsome reputations in their secret circles.
Collectively, a dark cabal of killers for hire.
Riselle was even more unique by being one of the few females to attain rank.
Enough, Zephyr. Take your rest…
But the wine was bitter and thick in his stomach.
He doubted it was poisoned, but he was sure it went bad.
Haven’t we all? He smiled, despite the stomach gripes, and fell asleep.


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