Writing Shorts

Prompt 21

Wingman

Roanoke and Jasper paused in an alley, breathing heavily. The sound of tramping boots and angry voices had them pressed against the wall, hiding in the shadows. Holding their breath as the pursuing guards passed, the two slipped out of the alley and into the night.

          "Do you want to talk about what happened?" Roanoke asked. Jasper merely shook her head. That man had come out of nowhere and completely wreaked their plans. First separated them, then tried to kill them. All while putting on a good face for the king.
          
           "What happened was that some selfish prick decided that of all nights, this would be a good time to act all noble. I've heard of him before. Normally he's the one trying to kill the king, not protect him," Jasper spat. "But no, the one night when it's extremely important we don't mess up, he's suddenly a do-gooder."

"Well, we can still try again next year, and we don't know when the king will hold other parties," Roanoke assured. "In the meantime... what did you think of him?" It took Jasper a moment to realize who he was talking about

"Who, the assassin?" She asked incredulously.

"Yeah. You two seemed to hit it off." He smirked. Jasper felt heat rise to her neck at the memory of the dance they had shared, knives practically at their throats.

"Stop that." Jasper warned

"Stop what?" Roanoke looked at her with an innocent pleading face.

"Stop trying to set me up with people. You're terrible at it."

"I am not."

"Yes you are. He tried to kill both of us."

"Yeah but you looked nice together."

Roanoke's teasing was ended by a punch to an already bruised ribs. They picked their way back to the city, avoiding all the patrolling guards. When they finally arrived at their home, both of them changed and fell into bed without another word. Jasper lay there, thinking. Her dance with the pretentious assassin had truly left her breathless, not that she would ever admit it. For a few moments, he had looked at her, and something in him had softened. She knew it was just him trying to earn her trust to make her easier to kill, but she couldn't help but wonder.

Briefly, she wondered if he had followed them, but decided, if he had, they would have been dead already. A crack on the window had her shooting out of her bed, knife in hand. Cautiously, she approached the window, checking the roofs for anything out of the ordinary. Carefully, she moved her scan down, finally reaching the ground level. A person leaning against a tree in the buildings over grown stables made her stop in shock.

What the hell was he doing here?