The Lost Princess

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Lost in the Past

***Little Disclaimer/Trigger warning here guys. This chapter is a little heavier as far as content. There is some mention of domestic abuse, gaslighting, and manipulation. Just want to look out for anyone who might be upset by this chapter. 

"You can't possibly be leaving," Amara cried, a distressed look on her face.

"I won't be gone for long," Faleon replied, an easiness about his stance. He had so much self-assurance, something Amara wished she had. But she had been so broken when he rescued her. She was still floundering with her new reality. Under his careful teaching, she had blossomed, and her body was now strong and well muscled. The horrible wounds had closed, and her skills with weapons had been slowly honed to deadly perfection. But her mind was still fractured, her trust of others broken. Only Faleon was trustworthy, and now he was leaving her.

"But what if something happens?" she pleaded, terrified.

Faleon gave her an imploring look. "What could happen, Amara? Jost has plenty of jobs in mind for you while I am gone, and I have paid the rent for the week."

Amara grimaced at their latest employer's name. She did not like the heavyset, greasy-haired man who threw his weight around Gaearost. He practically owned the city. Everyone feared him and his batch of cronies, who patrolled the inner city in packs, looking for anyone worthy of their attention. Young women were their favored targets and were often carried off. Amara was glad she had Faleon's protection and training. None would dare touch her. But without Faleon to keep them at bay, she feared they would no longer be so hesitant.

"I don't like Jost. Could we not work for someone else? Or better yet, let us work for ourselves," she muttered.

Faleon gave her the same irritated look he used whenever he thought her foolish to be speaking of things she couldn't understand. "Amara, we need a client to do this kind of work. Otherwise there will be no money and no flat or food."

Amara blushed, embarrassed at his scolding. She knew he was right, but she hated the men they worked for. Serving horrible beatings to poor debtors who just wanted to keep their families going did not sit well with her. But the most unsettling was the assassinations they did. She was just a middleman sent to wreak havoc on enemies over disputes as petty as differences in political opinion. Or money—always money. Money was the reason she did what she did. The vile object was responsible for every rise and fall of their miserable existences.

Faleon saw her distress and touched her cheek. "Don't worry; I will only be gone a week. I would not leave if I thought you couldn't take care of yourself."

His words were meant to comfort, but they only confirmed her fears of being alone. He did not assure that she would be in no danger but instead verified her fears that she would be at risk and would need her skills.

"Please don't go," she beseeched, wrapping her arms around his neck. She felt him stiffen, his breaths quickening as she pressed herself against him. He set her away, and she saw the look that occasionally came over his face. His eyes would darken, and she could feel gooseflesh cover her skin in fear. There was a darkness in him that would bubble over. She had angered him with her intention to manipulate.

"You will do your job while I am gone. There are many who long for your position and protection in this city. Do not think I will let you take advantage."

She shrunk back from his anger, tears welling. He softened, the dangerous light leaving his eyes.

Smiling, and seeing his hold over her had not lessened, he kissed her gently. "I will be back within the week. Make sure Jost pays you in full."