Page 11 of Warrior Princess Assassin (Braided Fate #1)

Chapter Five

The Assassin

T he gathering room of the Hunter’s Guild is never busy at dawn.

We do nighttime work for a reason, and most everyone sleeps the day away.

By dusk, the room will be as packed as any tavern, with just as much wine and ale poured, because anyone is welcome to spend money here.

Hunters are well trained and discreet, and we’re not always killers.

Technically, we’re only hired to find people.

Everything we do afterward is just a matter of how much someone is willing to pay.

This morning, the gathering room is nearly deserted, the scuffed wood floors smudged with dirt and sticky with spilled ale, along with a few darker spots of blood from where discussions grew a little too heated.

Sunlight shines through the windows near the ceiling, but it does nothing to warm the space.

Every torch is unlit, the hearth just as cold as the ones in the palace.

Only two people are present. One is Hammish, the old man who cleans during the day, though it doesn’t look like much of that has happened yet.

A mop bucket sits near the wall, a thin crust of ice on the water, but Hammish is pouring himself a glass of whiskey behind the bar.

The other person is Rachel, the daytime keeper of the books.

She’s well into her fifties, and she’s been doing this a long time. Possibly as long as I’ve been alive.

She whistles low when she sees me. “Asher. I heard you were back.”

I push back my hood and approach the cage where she sits.

Steel bars stretch from the ceiling to the floor, forming walls that are ten feet wide, trapping her inside with a desk, two chairs, and a series of chests along the stone wall at her back.

It would give the impression of a cell, but the locks are all on the inside, blocked by panels of steel that are too wide to reach around and too thick to break. I’ve seen men try.

Rachel doesn’t just keep track of our assignments. She holds the money, too.

“I’m back,” I say. “I checked in last night.”

“I saw.” She taps the book. “Only ten percent pay because of the delay. That’s unlike you.”

The job wasn’t delayed, just my return, but excuses don’t matter here. I was lucky to get any pay at all. I shrug. “I ran into difficulties up north.”

“Tanja said you lost your room over the mill, too.”

Tanja is the night keeper. I didn’t tell her that I lost my lodging, but I’m sure the miller came looking for his coins when I stopped paying rent. I shrug again. “That happens when you disappear for three months. I’ll find another place.”

And I will—eventually. Though losing most of the pay on that job hurt dearly. So does losing most of my belongings. But I’ve started with nothing before. I can do it again.

I’ve just never done it in the middle of winter. When the order to douse every flame came ringing through the streets last night, I genuinely thought I might freeze to death somewhere.

But then Jory offered her bed.

I keep thinking of the way she fell asleep pressed against me, the way she clutched my hand to her chest. How small her voice sounded when she said, What if he hurts me? Or the way she trusted me to take care of it if he did.

I’m probably the last person anyone should trust. But she’s so innocent.

So sheltered. I’ve heard the wonder in her voice when she asks for stories about the far corners of Astranza.

She was ready to beg me for escape—without having any clue how difficult her life would be outside the palace.

Without having any clue how difficult my life is.

Though some of that is my fault. She’s only ever known the Asher who was her companion as a child—and the Asher who dares to visit her at night.

I’ve never had any desire to share anything in between. Not then, and not now.

I have no desire to think of it myself, honestly.

There was something so comforting about the feel of her heartbeat against my chest, the softness of her body yielding against mine.

I’d forgotten that touch could be like that, simple and gentle and without expectation.

I’ve spent so many years at the mercy of others that I never let anyone touch me anymore—and I certainly don’t fall asleep.

But her chambers are always full of memories, and I long to return to what my life was once like.

To be seen as someone other than...than what I am.

Her warmth pulled the tension out of my body until I drifted off for a few hours, the sound of her breathing in my ears.

When I woke in the dark, it took everything I had to let her go.

But I had to. That kiss was almost my undoing. I left her the uniform, then hid in the shadows, waiting for daybreak. I spent hours clinging to the darkness, torn between wanting her with me and knowing it was a mistake.

When she emerged from her room in the maid’s uniform, my heart leapt, and I expected her to head for the stables.

Instead, I clung to the rafters and followed her to the throne room. I watched her meet the king and his captain.

I watched her choose her fate, and in doing so, she sealed mine.

I need to stop thinking of Jory. It’s over.

But my heart gives a wrench. I truly have nothing.

Rachel is still studying me. “What happened in Morinstead, Ash?”

Hammish is still behind the bar, fidgeting with something I can’t see, but his head is canted in this direction. He’s listening to hear what I say, hoping for gossip.

They don’t mean any harm, but as with Jory, I won’t tell either of them the truth. “It’s not important.”

“You have somewhere to sleep?” she says.

My eyes flick up. Any of the other Hunters would smirk and say, “Is that an offer?” They always cajole and flirt in an attempt to charm the keepers into higher percentages, but I don’t like to play those games—which is probably why her question sounds like there’s genuine concern behind it.

“I’ll be all right,” I say.

She lifts two folds of leather from the desk. “I have two new assignments. They were delivered at dawn, directly from Pavok.”

Pavok is the Guildmaster. My eyes go from her to the leather. Each fold is stitched closed, all the way around. Sealed. That means the Guildmaster is the only one who knows the targets—and who paid.

Often that means someone of importance. Possibly someone in the palace.

My heart thumps. Jobs like these are rare. My share from two sealed assignments would have me in new living quarters before the end of the week.

But jobs like this are only ever offered to the most skilled Hunters. The most loyal. I’m very good, but I haven’t been part of the Guild long enough to earn assignments like that.

I look back at Rachel and frown. “It’s not like you to break the rules.”

She lifts one shoulder in half a shrug. “I’m not breaking the rules. There’s a time limit, and you’re the first Hunter I’ve seen.”

I’m certainly not going to argue. I take a step forward and put out my hand. “I’ll take both.”

“You’ll take one. And only because I don’t want a Hunter sleeping in the street when the kingdom’s been ordered to freeze.”

“They’re both stitched closed. What if the targets are together? You want the death of one to tip off the other?”

Her eyes narrow.

Hammish laughs under his breath. “He’s got you there, Rach.”

“You won’t see Logan or Gunnar until nightfall,” I add. “If then.” They’re the two best Hunters in the Guild, the men who’d usually get first crack at opportunities like this.

They’re also the best sleepers, because they earn enough silver to keep them well-housed and well-fed.

Rachel taps the bound leather against her hand. “Both jobs are to be done by sundown,” she says. “If they’re not, I’ll have to send another Hunter, and they’ll only pay half.”

It’s not a lot of time for two jobs, but I give her a sharp nod. “Even more reason to give them to me now.”

She doesn’t move. “If they only pay half because you got cocky, you’re covering the rest.” Her eyes flick to the lines on my cheek, the punishment marks left there by the slavers. “And you know where the Master will get it.”

I stare at her, weighing the implications of that.

It’s almost enough to make me drop my hand.

She stares back. “Still want both, or do you want to think about whatever delayed you in Morinstead?”

She’s implying that I got caught up in a romance, or gambling debts, or any of the other vices that distract Hunters when they’re new.

“What happened in Morinstead wasn’t anything like that,” I say evenly. “I got the job done.”

Behind the bar, Hammish catches a glimpse of my expression, and he laughs.

“You were gone a long time,” he calls. “The others were starting to lay bets on why. Bekka was disappointed that you came back so soon. She bet we wouldn’t see you inside of a year.

Sorrel thought maybe you were in prison again. ”

I scowl. That’s a little too close to the truth.

But now that the opportunity has been offered, I don’t want to see it yanked away. I keep my hand extended, then swallow hard. “Please, Rachel.”

She heaves a sigh and stands, carrying the leather folds to the bars, but she hesitates before coming close enough to pass them through. “It’s my neck on the line, too, Asher. I’ll give you till midday. If they’re not done, I’m telling Pavok to send someone after you.”

My eyebrows go up. It’s barely dawn. Shortening my deadline doesn’t give me a lot of time.

But I nod. “They’ll be done.”

She slips the folds of leather through the bars. “I’m looking out for you.” Her eyes flick to the ink-brands on my cheek again.

I scowl and pull up my hood so she can’t look at them anymore. When I reach for the assignments, the leather is so rich and smooth—I’ve rarely felt anything like it since I lived in the palace.

“You’re looking out for the Guild,” I say.

But maybe she’s looking out for me, too. She didn’t have to offer these to me.

She doesn’t deny it, though. “ Midday , Asher.”