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Scarlett reached over the railing to snatch a second scone from Cassius’s hand with a smile and said, “Enjoy your day, boys. I’m most assured my time in the sun with books will be far more entertaining than anything you lot do.”

As she turned and started up the stairs to go back to her rooms, Ryker called out, “Miss Monrhoe.” She looked back over her shoulder at him, narrowing her eyes, but she found no returning glare. Instead, his golden eyes seemed to have softened just a touch.The pity, she realized. The pity that inevitably came with the learning of her lifelong ailment. She had to work to keep the irritation from reaching her face.

“I will meet you at seven if it works better for you,” he continued.

“Eight is fine,” was all Scarlett could muster as she heard voices drifting from the kitchens. Drake gave her a warning look, and she skittered up the stairs.

She slipped back into her room and leaned her head against the closed door. The bedroom was large, with a walk-in closet and her own private bath— complete with a giant soaking tub and plumbed water, a luxury she was forever grateful for.

She had every intention of crawling right back into her giant four-poster bed and sleeping for at least three more hours, but all those thoughts flew from her mind when she saw what rested on her pillow.

A red rose with a piece of paper wrapped around it and tied with a black ribbon. The Assassin Lord had delivered the details of her assignment.

Scarlett tightened the sash of her robe as she crossed slowly to the bed. She had no idea what to expect from this assignment. The Assassin Lord had been trying to lure her back to the Fellowship for months now, and she had adamantly been refusing. After all, she was currently residing at the Tyndell Manor because of him. He had told her what was required of her to return to the Fellowship,and it was something she would never agree to.

The man had practically raised her after her mother had been so brutally assassinated. He had personally overseen her training alongside Nuri and another. The three of them had become his most lethal weapons and his most protected assets. Forcing her to come here had been a punishment for disobeying him. He hadn’t expected her to last this long. He had thought she would have come crawling back by now. He had thought she would have broken by now.

He thought wrong.

Scarlett gingerly picked up the rose and tugged at the black silk ribbon untying the neat bow. She let it flutter to the mattress and tossed the rose aside onto her nightstand. She unrolled the paper. He had written the note himself. She would recognize his tight scrawl anywhere.

My Dearest Dark Maiden-

I miss you. Complete this job and come home. Where you belong.

She sank to her bed as she read the name of the person who stood between her and the retribution she’d sought for years. She read the name over and over and over again. She didn’t know who it was. She didn’t know how she would find the person. All she knew was that she’d do this and then she’d take her time with the person responsible for her mother’s death.

Scarlett arrived in the training barracks promptly at eight that evening. Ryker was already waiting for her, sharpening that dark blade of his. He didn’t even look up at her when he snarled, “Pick your blade.”

She stalked to the wall and plucked her favorite sword from the wall of weapons,savoring the feel of it in her hand. She had spent most of the day in her room planning out her assignment, figuring out how she was going to track her target. Normally she required knowing why a person was being targeted. She was usually provided with such information. She had never felt right about killing someone without knowing why. She needed a reason. She didn’t always agree with the reason, but at least she knew. The Assassin Lord knew this, which meant not telling her was a test.

And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

That was a lie. She knew exactly how she felt about that. It pissed her off. Another person playing a damn game withherlife.

“Sorry if I ruined your evening plans by having to move this earlier,” she said with fake sweetness, sheathing the sword in the belt she’d worn with her fitted pants and tunic.

“Let’s not start this by lying to each other. You are not sorry at all,” Ryker snorted, finally looking up at her. “However, since it was for health reasons and not your own arrogance, I was happy to accommodate you.”

Ryker stood and strode to the center of a training ring. Scarlett followed, her steps quick. “Listen,” she said, coming toe-to-toe with him and looking up into his face. It was all harsh lines and cold features. He was at least six inches taller than her, and he bared his teeth like a godsdamned animal at her being in his face. “My ailment does not hold me back, hamper me, or make me weak, so do not treat me like a fragile child.”

He stared into her eyes. She glared back at him. “Fine,” he finally growled. “Show me how you hold your sword.”

“Really? We’re going to start this basic?” Scarlett asked, not trying to hide her annoyance.

“I told you that you had habits that would need to be broken. I train soldiers for battle, not thieves, assassins, and mercenaries. We train differently.”

“How do you know who trained me?”

Ryker lifted her arm to examine her wrist and hand, ignoring her question. “Do you always fight left-handed?”

“No,” Scarlett answered. “I was forced to train with both. I used to be stronger with my right hand,so my trainer made me use solely my left hand for an entire year until they were equal.”

“Smart trainer,” Ryker said. “Show me your ready stance, as though you were preparing for an attack.” Scarlett obeyed wordlessly. “No smart ass comment?” he taunted.

“I’m not some stupid, spoiled Lady,” Scarlett said, not changing her stance. “You are clearly highly respected and highly skilled. It has been a long while since I have had someone…of quality skill to train with me. I would not be stupid enough to piss you off and ruin my chances to train. Not during the first lesson anyway.”

“Why exactly do you desire me to train you? You are clearly already fairly skilled,” Ryker commented, making a minor adjustment to her grip. She would never admit it to him that such a minor change made her grip instantly better. “And not the snide comment you gave Lairwood.”