Page 19 of Warrior Princess Assassin (Braided Fate #1)

No, not really. I certainly can’t see her overpowering me, even without weapons—but my instincts are pricking at every nerve ending I have.

My eyes flick past her, toward the doorway. No one else is here, and my men are surely just on the other side of the door.

“I’m not afraid,” I say. “I’m curious.” I slip the first strap free, and as before, she watches the movement.

I feel the weight of her eyes on my fingers.

She’s closer than she was before, when we sat in her chambers, and I can hear each whisper of her breath.

The sunlight has warmed the space better than before, too, and I can even catch her scent, something warm and inviting, like cinnamon or vanilla.

The bracer comes free from my forearm, and I toss it onto the chair, but she hasn’t said anything.

My eyes flick up. “Princess?” I pause, remembering the pulse in my heart when she called me Ky in front of the others. “ Jory? ”

That earns a full smile, and the pink on her cheeks deepens. “You spoke passionately about your people,” she says. “And I believe you want to help them.”

I start on the second bracer. “I do.”

“And you seem earnest in your desire to begin our...our marriage from a place of honesty and truth.”

“I am.” These buckles slip free, and I toss this one onto the chair as well. A shadow flickers over the room, and I cast a glance up at the window, but there’s nothing there.

Those birds again. My instincts aren’t quite screaming at me, but my fingers hesitate as I reach for my sword belt.

The princess reaches out to rest her fingers over mine, and it drags my gaze back down to meet hers. Her hand is faintly trembling, and I frown. I think of that man in the snow who seemed so terrified of my soldiers—and me.

“What has happened?” I say. I yank at the buckle that holds my sword in place, then toss it onto the chair with my bracers. The dagger quickly follows. “My commitment to this alliance is genuine, I assure you.”

Her breathing has quickened. “I want to believe you,” she says. “I just...” Her voice trails off, and she presses her hands to her mouth, inhaling deeply.

Then I notice the broken skin across the knuckles of her right hand, the slight swelling of her knuckles.

She definitely didn’t have that before.

Maybe this is why my instincts are screaming. Maybe she’s trying to tell me she’s in danger .

I swiftly step forward and take hold of her hand. “You hit someone. Who hurt you? Was it your brother?”

She inhales sharply, her eyes searching mine. There’s a pleading there. A need .

“Tell me,” I demand, and this time I make no effort to hide the fury in my voice. “Believe this , Princess. If Dane is threatening you in regards to our alliance, I truly will consider it an act of—”

Metal scrapes over stone from somewhere above.

I snap my head up, but all I see is a dark blur. A heavy weight slams straight down into my shoulders with enough force to bring me to my knees. I barely stop myself from crashing face-first into the floor. My hands reach for weapons that aren’t there, and I inhale to shout for my men.

Before I make a sound, a thin rope snaps tight against my throat.

Well, fuck .

I automatically go for the rope, but it’s drawn so tight that I’m already seeing stars.

There’s weight on my back, and what feels like a knee pressing into my rib cage.

I try to fling myself back to dislodge my assailant, but there’s no wall behind me, and whoever it is grips tight.

I try to roll, to use my weight to my advantage, but the rope goes tighter.

I surge against the ground, reaching back, striking at anything I can reach.

I hit something vital, because my attacker grunts, telling me it’s a man. That rope goes slack, but it snaps tight before I can get more than a second of air. It’s enough time for me to strike again.

He’s ready for it. He catches my wrist and wrenches it back so fiercely that my shoulder might dislocate.

The sudden sharp pain brings me to the ground, the rope still tight around my throat.

Now there’s a knee in my lower back, digging into my kidney, and another just over my spine.

The stone floor grits against my face, and my eyes are beginning to water from the lack of air.

The princess isn’t screaming. Has someone attacked her, too?

I have one hand free, and I press against the ground, but whoever’s on my back has too much leverage. My lungs are beginning to scream.

Jory’s skirts are visible in my blurring vision. She’s still on her feet. I fight to speak, but the rope is too tight. Run, I think. Scream.

The man speaks from behind me, his voice low, the tone tight with strain. “Jory. His dagger belt. Quick.”

Oh .

I’m an idiot.

Desperate, I sketch a sigil against the stone floor, praying someone has lit a fire somewhere.

Nothing.

“Jory!” the man says again. “ Now .”

“Asher,” she says breathlessly. “Asher, you’re hurting him.”

“You knew he wasn’t going to walk out the door!” the man growls. “I need you to tie his hands.”

Asher. I search my memories for the name and come up with nothing.

It’s possible the lack of oxygen isn’t helping.

I let my muscles go slack, hoping that will earn me some leverage, but whoever’s pinning me doesn’t fall for it.

I surge against his hold anyway, and I’m gratified when he swears and has to adjust his grip.

In the struggle, I’m able to get a lungful of air—but then the rope is too tight and I can’t shout for help.

I redouble my efforts, hoping I’ll knock into a table or something will fall and summon my men from the other side of the door.

I’m not that lucky.

I can’t believe I removed my weapons—all because I thought the princess was afraid. All because I thought she was in danger from her brother. I am such a fool. I still have daggers strapped under each greave, but they’re well out of reach.

A hand grabs my wrist, and I strike out. Jory makes a small sound of pain, and I grit my teeth, hoping for another chance.

But the rope at my neck tightens, and my assailant leans down close until he speaks right to my ear. “She’s the only reason you’re not dead . Hurt her again, and you will be.”

I go still at the words, because conviction fills every syllable. He means every word.

“Jory,” he says again. His voice is still strained, as if he can barely keep me pinned. He must not be a soldier or a guard, because he’s not as heavy as an armored man would be. If I could get another lungful of air, I might be able to wrench free.

But then her hand touches my wrist again, and I can feel Asher go still, watching to see how I react. He’s waiting to make good on his promise, I can feel it.

I don’t fight her. She draws my arm back, and she’s more gentle than he was. I tighten my muscles, hoping to earn some slack later, but the man grunts.

“Hold this one,” he says. “ Don’t let up. If he shouts for them, they’ll hang us both.”

Then they must trade, because the rope loosens marginally, and I suck in some air.

“ Tighter ,” he hisses, just as he jerks the leather around my wrists. It pulls my shoulders to an unnatural angle and forces a sound from my throat. My hands are pressed together so sharply that I couldn’t sketch a sigil even if there were fire to draw.

Then a new rope comes over my head, the edge cutting into my mouth. He’s tied a knot in it, and it falls between my teeth, so I couldn’t speak if I wanted to. With vicious swiftness, he ties this one off behind my head so tightly that I wince.

But then he climbs off my back and turns me over, pulling me upright to sitting. The garrote disappears from my neck.

A knife replaces it.

But now I can breathe. I can think. A hooded man holds the knife, the point tipping my chin up. His face is shadowed by the hood, and with the sun behind him, all I can see is the edge of his chin and the faint gleam of his eyes.

Asher. I’m going to tear him apart.

He glares back at me, as if he can sense my intent. “Make one sound, and I’ll kill you.” He doesn’t look away. “Jory. Tie his bootlaces together. Loose enough so he can walk.”

Her breathing is so quick I can hear it, fear undercutting every inhale. Is Asher forcing her to do this? Who is he? Is that why she was afraid?

She’s the only reason you’re not dead .

What does that mean?

But as Jory kneels to tug at my boots, I spot a flicker of motion in the shadowed hallway behind them. My heart jolts, thinking there’s another assailant, but when the man shifts, I recognize his movements.

Nikko.

Oh, thank the stars.

He already has a dagger drawn, and he creeps along the wall silently. Relief blooms in my heart. My attacker will be a body on the floor in less than a second.

But Asher is too savvy—or maybe I’m just not that lucky. He notices my shifted focus, and he looks over his shoulder just as Nikko slips out of the shadows, sword drawn now.

Asher shoves Jory out of the way. I expect him to turn and fight with the dagger, but he doesn’t.

He leaps upward, catching the beam. He swings onto the wood in a feat of acrobatics that would be impressive if the situation were different.

Nikko spins to come after him, but Asher’s already ahead of him.

He’s barely on top of the beam before he’s swinging off, using his momentum to aim a kick at Nikko’s throat.

Then he leaps onto my soldier’s back the way he must have done to me.

Nikko swears and tries to stab back with his dagger. But instead of wrapping a garrote around his neck, Asher gets an arm around his throat. Then he snaps his head to the side.

Nikko drops like a rock.

I cry out, but the knot in my mouth captures the sound. Every muscle strains at the ropes, but I’m bound too tightly. My heartbeat is suddenly a roar in my ears.

Nikko. Nikko.

Even Jory is gasping. “Asher,” she whispers, and her voice breaks. “ Asher .”

But Asher climbs off the body of my fallen soldier, and he grabs my arm.

“Get up,” he growls. “ Walk. ”

I don’t move. I make myself a deadweight. I hope my eyes are issuing every deadly promise I can think of. I’m going to cut him into pieces and feed him each one. I’m going to pour honey into his eyes and let insects devour his face. I’m going to—

Asher leans close, until his eyes are all I see. “Get up and walk, or I will drag you into the hallway. And then I will wait for the rest of your men, and I will kill them one by one as they enter this room. While you watch .”

That same conviction rings in every word. He killed Nikko in a matter of seconds. One of my best soldiers. One of my closest friends.

Against my will, my eyes look away from Asher to find the body, crumpled on the stone floor.

Is his chest moving? Is he breathing? I can’t tell.

Emotion grips my throat, but I shake it off and harden my thoughts. I’ve watched men fall in battle. I’ve been in bad situations. I know how to keep my wits about me.

When I look up, Jory is watching me.

“This wasn’t—” Her breath hitches. “I promise. This...this wasn’t...”

Her voice trails off.

“It was,” says Asher.

His voice is cold.

Every emotion in my head ices over in response.

No time for regrets now. I need to wait for an opportunity.

Asher grabs my arm and gives it a tug.

This time, I stand.