Page 23 of A Broken Promise (the Freckled Fate #1)

23

M y fingers were still wrinkly from being in water too long. Newly washed laundry was now hanging up in the laundry room, a large wall fan blowing the air was slowly drying them.

Laundry was my kind of therapy. Warm and cold water kept my overstimulated thoughts anchored to the present. The stretching and the rubbing and the twisting of fabric let the feelings out; the chemical smell of soaps and salts stung my eyes, burning the tears out.

I worked until my mind was just as fresh and crisp as the fabric neatly pinned on the laundry lines.

Priya was already in her large greenhouse, her hair up in a messy bun with large, dangly earrings sophisticating her otherwise simple look. Garden beds and pots were stationed everywhere, filled with all manner of vegetation.

She didn’t look at me as she dug a small hole in the moist dirt and planted one of the small green plants into the ruffled sod.

“Rough night?” She pointed to the small pot by my foot. “That one.”

I quickly passed it on to her.

“Couldn’t sleep much.” I shrugged.

She planted another herb in .

“The good news though,” I continued. “I read Plants and Poisons for hours until I fell back asleep.”

“Gods, I fucking love that book,” Priya exclaimed.

I chuckled. Plants and Poisons was a kid’s book. A kid’s encyclopedia, to be exact, filled with pictures and names of all kinds of plants, their purposes, and where they came from. Very informative, but also fun. Who knew there were fifteen types of mint, all ranging from bitter to sweet, from purple to light yellow; or that you could make an immune boosting soup from plantain leaves?

“I did learn how to make a calming tea out of dried dandelions, and even practiced grass whistles.” I snickered, passing on another small pot to her.

“You laugh, but grass whistles are wonderful. I bet you couldn’t do a proper one even if you tried.”

“I probably couldn’t.” I smiled. Grass whistles seemed so bizarre compared to the training happening in the basement, but everything was always slightly bizarre with Priya.

“You think you are ready?” she asked, glancing over at me with demise.

I wasn’t sure what Priya’s test entailed.

“I think so?” I raised my brows in question.

“Gods, such confidence, such grace.” She rolled her eyes, finally standing up, shaking off the dirt from her skintight black pants.

We walked away from the enormous greenhouse, down the path leading to a lab.

This was Priya’s world. Unlike the rest of the perfectly pristine house, the workroom was filled with clutter. Or at least it seemed so, until you looked closer. Cabinets with small, never-ending drawers, shelves filled with different glass jars and containers, some of them empty, some full, other shelves filled with small glass tanks with crawling creatures in them. Spiders, bugs, and occasional snakes. Thin laundry lines hung across the room with plants in their different stages of dryness. A musky sage smell encompassed the room. Unlike the rest of the counter space, the top of the large island was completely empty, a few metal barstools near it .

One by one, Priya showed me a leaf or a whole plant, either full of life or completely dried, asking me what kind it was and what its purpose was. I answered each question with confidence.

Recognizing plants and their attributes was almost second nature to me. Growing up, I often tagged along with Tuluma, collecting herbs to make potions and teas to sell to the struggling humans, desperate enough to pay a coin for a salvation in a bottle from an elf.

Priya was pleased as I answered all her questions correctly. Her mouth parted in a large, feline smile.

“Good,” she spoke. “Now, let’s talk about murdering people.” She pulled out a large tray with all manner of vials, some full, some empty.

Priya talked for over two hours, educating me, mixing and grinding small plants into powder, then liquid. She pointed to the now-mixed black liquid and the bowl with now-wilted green powder.

“A little dry rub of this herb will help you with pain, a speck of it on your tongue and it will numb it completely, a good thing to use when people talk too much.” She smirked and I returned the smile.

She mixed it with salt water.

“Now get this straight into the bloodstream and you will get your heart to stop faster than you’ll realize what happened to you.”

I quietly listened, taking notes in my large notebook. Priya was in her element. Each little movement, each precise pipette drops of liquid—this was her home. This was her comfort zone.

She looked so relaxed explaining each step, bringing more and more glass jars or vials until there was barely any space left. Multiple copper and gold scales were spread out across the counter.

“Why do you make poisons?” I asked curiously. Why was this her world? Priya was a skilled assassin. I had seen her movements, her precision and talent. She could eliminate anyone she wanted just with her knife throwing skills alone.

“That is the dumbest question you have ever asked. I just showed you literally how to extract burning acid from a merrow root and you are asking why poisons?” She scrunched her eyebrows and lips together.

“Sorry, it just seems like a lot of work. Meticulous work too. I mean you must plant or find the plants first, which some of them are extremely rare or take ten years to mature... Then make sure you harvest them at the right times, then make sure you prep or dry them correctly, then some still need mixing or stuff done. All that work just to result in a small drop of poison and even then, you have to store them right so they would work?” I shifted on my tall barstool a little bit. “It seems rather complicated.”

“It is complicated AND extremely time consuming . But when you are a woman, Freckles, you don’t get a chance to be sloppy and just bullshit your way in life like men do. Even if you are a skilled assassin.”

“I guess that’s true.” I tapped my pen on the paper.

“You guess ?!” Priya angrily closed a jar. “It’s all fun and jokes until you come across four-hundred-pound Jimmy over there who is trying to strangle you and can single-handedly knock you out with one punch and—” She thinned her lips and narrowed her eyes at me. “And considering that your speed to action is somewhat similar to that of a dying snail, I’d say making Jimmy paralyzed first, or quite frankly dead, before he smashes that pretty nose of yours is quite helpful, even if it does take a while to make the poisons.”

“Are there a lot of women assassins?” I was genuinely curious.

“How the fuck would I know?” She looked at me annoyed while checking on some plants drying on the walls.

“I don’t know, maybe because you are an assassin and murder people for a living?” I threw that sarcastic tone back at her.

“Gods, first, I live to murder people, not murder people for a living. A big fucking difference. And second, I told you, I am not an official assassin, but even if I was, it’s not like you just go sign up and join a queen’s tea party of female Royal assassins where we discuss the new trends of slicing someone’s throat and current fashion takes on updos.” She shook her head, displeased.

I knew Priya was being sarcastic but a part of me really liked that idea.

Just imagine the power and the brilliance if all the badass women united. The world would be a different place .

Priya now fished out a few live crickets and dropped them into the terrariums filled with all kinds of creatures. “But my guess is, there aren’t many, considering most women spend their time trying to please society.” She dropped a few more. “When in reality, they’d have much better luck murdering it.”

I nodded in agreement.