Assassin (Book 1)

FIFTEEN

A cold smile crept across the King's lips.

"You've done it, then? Just today I thought you'd failed and wouldn't return," the King laughed.

"No, your majesty," I swept into a bow. "I would never do such a thing."

"Well then, we must celebrate. Bring in the hostage!"

My stomach churned, and I felt sick. They were going to hurt him. He didn't even care about Xavier. Bile rose up in my throat.

The door opened and the guards walked in, ready, holding Lance and roughly pushing him to the floor. He fell onto his knees and grimaced. They were already bleeding from his fall outside.

"You must be . . . ?" the King trailed off, confused.

"Sire, the girl wasn't available at the time. Though I did, in fact, make the discovery of more than one offspring from the Leaders."

The King nodded. "Boy!" he shouted.

Lance looked up. His shirt was torn at the edges like he'd tried to put up a fight. He was bruised across the cheekbone. The corner of his lip was bleeding.

"So you must be the mighty King of Astodia," Lance broke out into a grin. Blood dripped from his lips as he coughed. "Pleased to meet you."

The King smiled coldly. "How does it feel to kneel in front of me?"

"Weird. I don't like you much anyway. I can smell you all the way here." Lance wrinkled his nose. "You smell like old man."

"Silence!" the King's smiled disappeared. A guard kicked Lance with a heavy boot to the stomach. He bent over, coughing painfully. I shut my eyes as blood splattered onto the floor.

"Sire, may I see the prince? I've brought the antidote," I cut in, quick to stop Lance's torture.

"Ah, of course," he nodded, his smile genuine. I felt disgust as I tore my eyes from Lance's pained body.

"Thank you, your majesty," I said politely, sweeping into another bow.

"Guards, take her to my son," the King said. "Try to heal him if he isn't already dead."

I gritted my teeth, fuming inside. How could he talk about his own son that way?

I slipped out the room, clutching the small glass vial to my chest only to be stopped by the King.

"Oh, and one more thing. Take the boy with you. If my son awakes, the boy's torture will be lessened during his time in the dungeons."

"And if he doesn't?" I said, masking a new feeling a felt in my chest—fear.

"If he doesn't," the King laughed, "Then we don't have to worry about keeping the boy alive, do we?"

I bowed.

The guards stopped at the door. I flew into the room, my heart beating loudly in my chest.

He was lying on the bed, his face sickly pale. His eyes were partially closed. Dark hair was plastered to his forehead and his hands were at his side. He was in a thin white shirt, and his skin was lighter than it. The blankets were pulled up to his chest.

"Leave the room," I ordered the maids and servants. They took one look at me and disappeared. "All of you," I told the guards, "get out."

"We can't leave the prince alone," he said. "if he wakes up and he's not in his right mind—"

"I'm an assassin," I sneered. "Are you saying I can't deal with him? Tie the boy there." I motioned to the guards who did so. He pulled Lance roughly, and it was only then that I saw the blood on Lance's wrists from being chafed by the cuffs.