Page 54 of Warrior Princess Assassin (Braided Fate #1)

Chapter Twenty-Five

The Assassin

W hen we ride out, the air is sharp and I’m still sore.

This much riding is often reserved for the nobility or the cavalry, and I’m neither.

If there’s any spot of relief, the burn on my shoulder has mostly stopped weeping, and new scabs have begun to form.

It makes the weight of the leather armor less bothersome.

I’d rather not wear it at all , because it’s heavy enough to slow me down in a fight, but the soldiers’ angry glares and muttered comments seem to have shifted into grudging acceptance.

I’ll strap leather to my body if it makes them keep their distance.

But maybe I’m the one keeping my distance.

They’re all clearly less worried about an attack now that we’re in Incendar, so we’re riding in more of a pack today, and everyone seems to have fallen into similar pairings as last night.

Nikko and Roman are at the front, followed by the king and his captain, Jory and Charlotte, and finally Garrett and Callum.

And then me.

In a way, I don’t mind. I’m used to being alone—and I’m glad I’m not tethered to anyone anymore.

My horse drifts along behind them, well trained to follow a formation.

We’ve been riding through dried grass and sparse vegetation for hours.

Narrow ravines are frequent, but so are open fields of.

.. nothing . I’ve heard rumors of the poor crops in Incendar, and I suppose I’m seeing the proof.

From time to time, the air seems thick with woodsmoke, but then the wind will shift and I’ll think I imagined it.

We haven’t come close to a single flame since we buried our campfire.

When we pass villages and settlements, they’re always at a distance—but maybe that’s on purpose.

I don’t ask, because I don’t care. No one is looking to me to navigate.

Not even the horse. I suspect I could fall asleep and this army steed would continue plodding along until we stopped.

It’s tempting. Being awake is giving me too much time to think.

My thoughts are full of the princess—and the memory of the king on top of her.

I wasn’t trying to stare. I wasn’t even trying to spy. But they’d gone quiet for a little too long, and then I heard the rough breaths and scuffling. I remembered how frightened she’d been in her chambers.

When I looked, he was pinning her to the ground, but Jory did not look afraid.

Her hand was on his face, and there was no disguising the flicker of desire on his.

There was no disguising the desire on hers .

She seemed flushed and eager from their “fight,” completely contrary to the prim and proper princess I know from the palace.

Maybe it started as sparring, but it certainly wasn’t going to end that way.

For one blinding second, they didn’t see me, and I had an opportunity to look away. To go to sleep. To pretend I’d seen nothing. I’ve lived in a dozen different brothels, so I’m no stranger to any level of intimacy happening right beside me.

But then she saw me, and so did the king. I was caught, my eyes wide open.

Fine, I said to him . You win.

He caught my chin. We are not at odds. This is not a competition.

Did he mean that as a warning? A statement that he’s the king, so there’s no competition to be had?

Or did he mean it in another way? Some way I can’t seem to figure out?

It shouldn’t matter. I shouldn’t even be here. She’s sealing an alliance. If anything, I should be happy that they’re finding some kind of accord. I have no part in this.

Then again, I promised Jory I would look out for her.

Despite everything that happened in the throne room with the Guildmaster, despite everything he denied , Hunters came after us anyway.

I have no doubt more will follow us into Incendar, either to kill him, or to kill her. I just can’t figure out why .

Could it have anything to do with King Theodore’s illness?

I can’t make that work out either. That’s the whole reason they need Maddox Kyronan.

Ky.

I haven’t found the courage to call him that again—despite the fact that I’ve now spent two nights sleeping right beside him. This morning, I woke before the sun, my body lying flush against his, my cheek pressed against his bicep. He was so warm that I didn’t want to move.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Normally I hate sleeping near anyone at all.

And when people touch me, I usually want to stab them through the arm.

But the king barely has to say my name or touch his fingers to my skin, and I’m no longer a trained killer, I’m a fucking lapdog.

I’m never like that with anyone but Jory.

I thought maybe he was having another nightmare, but he was warm and still, his breathing soft between us.

I moved away anyway. I’m not chained to his arm anymore, and I didn’t want his soldiers to find me there.

Hell, I touched Jory’s face and one of them tried to kill me.

I have no idea how they’d react if they saw me curled up against their king.

I have no idea how Jory would react.

Or maybe I do. Her fingertips were so cool against my chin, right beside his. Like that moment in the tavern, the touch of their hands at the same time stirred up my insides and filled my veins with honey.

Ah, Jory. I rub at my eyes. I need to stop thinking about this.

“Hey,” Callum says. “Stripes.”

I jerk my hand down. He and Garrett are both looking back at me. I can’t decide if they’re calling me that to be annoying or if they’ve just decided it’s going to be my nickname.

I also can’t decide if I care.

“What?” I haven’t talked to anyone in hours, so my voice comes out rough and wary.

They exchange a glance that might mean mischief—or it might mean trouble.

I defeated Nikko last night, but these are the two I really need to watch out for.

Of Ky’s soldiers, they’re the biggest, the most aggressive, clearly the brute force of this small team.

There’s also a sharpness to them that warns me to tread carefully.

It’s like the way Garrett flipped me into the snow when I was choking him with the chain.

The move could’ve broken his neck, but he went for it anyway.

“Stop following us like a ghost,” says Garrett.

“Yeah,” says Callum. “Ride up here.”

This isn’t an invitation. It’s a challenge.

Fuck it . I touch my heels to the horse’s sides, and the animal jogs up to ride abreast with the two of them. Just ahead, Jory glances back, and then the king, but I don’t need them to hold my hand. I ignore them both.

Callum is closest to me, and when he looks over, blond hair falls into his eyes.

Like the others, he’s practically dripping with weapons—more than I wore as an assassin.

I suppose it makes sense, since they apparently ride into war, and I.

..don’t. A long dagger is strapped to his thigh, and I know a sword is on his left hip.

I remember that their bracers cover an array of knives buckled to their forearms, and there are likely more weapons tucked under their greaves.

I still have nothing.

“How did you learn to fight like that?” Callum says to me.

The question sounds genuine, which takes me by surprise—and that’s probably what makes me answer.

“Some of it was the Hunter’s Guild,” I say.

“One of the first lessons is how to kill someone before they have a chance to fight back.” I shrug.

“But some of it was the slavers.” I gesture to my face.

“After I earned a few lines, I’d sometimes get sold into the fighting rings.

I’m not big, but I’m pretty fast. They only broke a few ribs before I learned how to get out of the way. ”

My voice is flat, because I don’t think much of this—I honestly preferred the fighting rings to the brothels—but Jory whips her head around, horrified. “ Asher .”

I look back at her. “You said you wanted the truth.”

She clamps her mouth shut.

Garrett is giving me a more appraising look. “We have fighting rings here, too,” he says. “It’s a good way to make some coin if you’ve got a bit of skill.”

Ahead, the captain snorts. “And if you’re not afraid to lose a few teeth,” he calls back.

Callum gives me a similar once-over, and then his eyebrows go up. He hits Garrett in the arm. “Gar. We should take him to the arena at Mossnum. Can you imagine the side bets?”

Garrett considers, then chuckles darkly. “No one would see it coming.”

Jory is still looking back, but her gaze turns fierce. “Are you talking about Asher? You will not force him to fight —”

“Who said anything about force?” says Callum. He turns to look at me again. “It’s good silver, if you’ve got the mettle for it.”

At that, the king glances back. “Mossnum? That arena runs a rough crowd.”

Callum scoffs, and Garrett’s eyes flick skyward. “Just who does he think makes it rough?” he mutters.

“What was that?” Ky calls.

Callum raises his voice. “We were just saying you’re an amazing leader.”

The king gives an aggrieved sigh and turns to face forward.

Callum shrugs and adds, “Besides, Stripes wouldn’t have to worry. We’d look out for him.” He claps me on the shoulder. “He could probably earn enough to—oh. Shit. Sorry.”

If he tried to punch me, I could’ve blocked, but I wasn’t prepared for friendly camaraderie.

But now I’m gripping the horse’s mane, breathing through my teeth.

My vision has gone spotty. For the first time, I’m somewhat grateful for the armor, because if he’d smacked me directly on the brand, it might have knocked me off the horse.

It takes a full minute before I can straighten.

The worst part is that I genuinely don’t think that was intentional.

“Asher,” says Jory, and her voice is very soft.

“It’s fine,” I say roughly. I taste blood in my mouth, and I wonder if I’ve bitten my tongue. “I’m fine.”

They’re all completely silent for the longest moment, and I just want them to stop looking at me.