The Emperor’s Seat. That is what the commoners call the castle banked against the sheer cliff rising high into the sky. Dragons circle high above with riders on their backs. The white crenulations of the castle shimmer against the morning light, a mixture of purple and gold filigree outlining many of the balcony doors and the large spires rising into the sky.

I dart into traffic, merging with the castle folk, having stolen an errand boy’s attire. The boy is currently sleeping off a round of ale on the house. I slipped a few coins into his pocket on the way out and payed for the innkeeper to put him in a bed.

I hold the bundle of items he needed for his errand run and keep my head ducked beneath the cap. The boy's eyes were a hazel brown, where my own are darker even with the spell, so I hope to run into no one who will recognize the boy.

The guards don’t even bat an eye as I slip behind palace maids who yawn into their hands as they make their way in for early morning shifts.

Now then, to find Ma. The inner castle is a labyrinth, but I have long since known the inner workings. Once assassinated the Emperor’s right-hand man, after all. Now I know it was so Purple could get the Advisor’s position. I wonder how long Black had planned for such a thing.

My steps carry me to a servant's door hidden behind a tapestry of battle and blood.

My footsteps echo as I plod languidly, nodding shyly and tipping my plain brown hat at any maids who pass me by.

One stops me for a conversation, but I pretend to be mute, gesturing helplessly to my throat.

She sighs and moves on.

Footsteps pound from behind and in front of me, the jingle of guards from behind. Then there is the light, swift step, and swishing skirt of a lady in front.

The lady gasps as I grab her and put a hand over her mouth. I half-drag, half-carry her past a hidden door and into a tiny cellar few know about, but has gotten me out of a few scrapes.

These little places are dotted throughout the estate, a nod to bygone eras when the nobles needed to store food in cool, underground places but didn’t want to have to wait on servants to bring them midnight snacks. All that changed when mages began creating cool boxes.

The lady in my hands stills as the jangle and harsh breathing of soldiers charge down the passageway. She’s stiff as a board, but being this close, I note the silky fabric she wears and the softness of her skin and hair. She has a sweet scent of chamomile and yarrow mixed with steel-like determination and uneasy fear. Underneath it all is the smell of leather and hay that reminds me of horses. Under her nails, I can almost get a hint of acetone paint snd sweet ink that reminds me of Jed. Her hair drifts down her back in silken waves, all the way to her waist.

She’s noble or I’ll eat my tail.

“They’re gone. Are you going to scream?” I ask softly against her ear.

She shakes her head and shivers. Her unbound hair swishes against my skin at the movement.

I release her and shuffle around, trying to keep space between us even as the tight quarters shove us together. I peek my head out the tiny door, listening, before emerging and dusting myself off.

The lady steps out from the little cubby as if it were the Emperor’s carriage, even as she hides a shudder from a darting spider on her shoulder. She swipes it away and stomps it with slippered feet.

“Who are you?” she says after the spider episode, crossing her arms and tapping a delicate foot, even as she darts eyes down both sides of the passageway and the scents of bitter unease along with regret wafts from her.

“That is of no concern, m’lady. How may I serve?”

“You must not be with them or you’d of killed me already. Fine, help me find my maid.”

“Your... maid?” I ask, my lips tipping up in a smile despite the situation I’ve found myself in. She’s adorable, with her haughty demeanor that only covers her vulnerable position.

“Yes. She—“ she cuts off, biting her lip. “She saved my life, and now I...” her eyes grow moist and distant, and I immediately reach out a hand to touch her cheek without realizing it.

She looks at me in surprise, her lips parting.

I pull back abruptly, as if stung. “Lead the way, m’lady.”

She sticks her nose in the air with a huff, but her hands shake and her slippered feet slide out from under her in the dank back passageway.

I reach her before she can fall, and somehow the feel of her in my arms feels... right. I’m not questioning if she has a dagger up her sleeve because I’ve already felt it, but she didn’t go for it before and I’m thinking she won’t this time, either.

I’m proven wrong when she slips it from her sleeve and places the tip against my throat. I’m almost holding her bridal style, and apparently that is what it took to bring out the knives. She was fine with the manhandling earlier, but not this?

One arched eyebrow raises, even as she squints to see me better in the dimness of the few magelights dotting this passageway.

“Unhand me,” she says, voice trembling despite her best efforts to hide it.

I almost just drop her.

Do it! Cynic cackles with glee.

I ignore him, instead gently easing her to her feet and stepping back, holding her gaze the entire time to let her know I did not intend harm.

She gulps in a breath of air when I retreat from her space, and then turns her back to me and walks up the passageway, walking more cautiously this time around.

Get the sappy grin off your face and get moving, Cynic grumbles.

I wipe the grin from my face and for once do exactly what Cynic says.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

I catch up to the lady, and her eyes dart to me before looking away. “Sorry.”

I shrug. “Whatever happened has you on edge. I don’t blame you.”

She sighs, a dainty sound drawn from the depths of her soul. “I need help. I was almost assassinated, but Frida jumped the assassin and threw him out the window before the soldiers came. But those soldiers... they were wolves dressed in sheep’s clothing”—I wince at the analogy, but she continues none the wiser—“Frida told me to run. I didn’t question her. But she could be hurt or worse! Why, oh why did I leave her? I never should have left her.”

I touch her shoulder, but she won’t look at me.

“We’ll get to Frida, and if she’s anything like what I know, she’ll be just fine.”

Her head snaps around to stare at me in confused suspicion. “You know my maid?”

The trails of tears shining on her cheeks and dripping from her chin like indivisible starlights cause my brain to misfire. This is even worse than with Heather.

“Erm—uhhh... of course. We all work in the palace, right?” I kick myself for losing my mind at such a time deep in enemy territory. And apparently this is the Princess I’m supposed to assassinate.

Her eyes narrow in suspicion, but she must realize there’s not much she can do back here except scream... and even then, the wrong people may come running. She’d be smart to stop questioning me and just lead me to Ma.

“Who are you?” The question is but a whisper from her lips, but it causes me to stumble.

Her eyes, shimmering from the tears, watch me closely, seeming to see past my defenses and striking into my very core. It's terrifying... but also, exciting. Like juggling knives, you never know if one misstep will cause your demise... but it's fun.

I'm sure the girl would be delighted to hear of her comparison to juggling blades, Cynic comments, his voice horrifyingly level.

Shut. Up.

I turn ahead and try to walk faster, but her arm catches my elbow. I flinch, and she removes her hand.

“I’m not someone you want to see again after this, m’lady. Better for everyone if you forget you ever saw me.” I meet her eyes, letting something flash in my eyes I never thought I would. Vulnerability. I don’t mask any emotions under any others. I just let her see the stark truth.

She opens her mouth to say something, but I turn and march towards where I know the princess' chambers are. Likely Ma has already taken care of it, but I’d like to check on her to be sure.

Sounds as if instead of being a prisoner, she rules the roost. Something about that makes my heart lighter, and a small smile tips my lips.

The princess rushes behind me to catch up, almost slipping again but catching herself against a wall.

“Lyra,” she says.

I look at her, one brow raised in question. She looks down. “My name,” she answers my unspoken question.

I—what do I do? “Kino.” It’s one of my names.

Cynic laughs up a storm in the back of my head.

Her lips twitch. “Like the bug?”

I hiss out a breath. I hoped she’d forget such a thing, or that it was never a part of her princessly education.

“Yes.”

“Big, tough, and broody doesn’t match such a name.”

I huff out an amused breath. “Frida. We need to save her.”

She nods, and I would jog on ahead... but I’m afraid to leave the human in the dark when she’s already almost fallen twice. If she hurts herself, I’d feel awful.

How I am going to enjoy this! Cynic says, cackling.

Something about those words doesn’t set right with me and causes a slight blush to color my cheeks. I’m just thankful it’s too dark for Lyra to see.

When we turn the final corner to the princess’ quarters, I put a hand out to keep her from barreling into the room.

She fingers her dagger, sending a glare my way, but doesn’t try to stab me.

Good Princess, Cynic says. You’ve already got her trained.

Shut up.

I look out into the room, and only see Frida standing over four bodies.

I emerge first, whistling like a parity bird. The high-pitched noise has Frida cocking her head and she immediately stands from her observation of the bodies.

“Roland?” she asks, as if whispering a prayer.

“It’s me.”

I emerge from the hidden passage, and she rushes me. It takes more willpower than I knew I possessed to stand there as she wraps her arms around me. The last time I saw her, I only saw her tears as I left her in a dungeon.

I’m not sure I’d stop her if she tried to stab me.

“Barry?” she asks, pulling back to look me in the face.

“Alive and well. With friends.”

Her breath rushes out and her legs almost collapse out from under her. I catch her, helping her to a chair by the bed.

She cups my cheek, her eyes shining in the morning light coming through the windows and painting the room in gold and red.

“I should’ve known not to doubt my son.”

A lump catches in my throat when I try to speak. She smiles kindly, then looks behind me. “Princess. I see you’ve met my son.”

I stand and turn so quickly my head spins just slightly. Some great assassin I am, almost forgetting about the other person in the room.

“Kino? He’s your son?” Lyra steps into the room, and my breath catches in my throat.

Her long dark hair falls in waves, each strand just as silky as it felt. Her dark brows are furrowed in mock confusion and her lips are pinched to hold in a smile. Her dark brown eyes regard me with curiosity and something else. Perhaps a bit of awe mixed with relief.

Ma laughs behind me. “Kino is the nickname Barry and Jed have for Roland.”

The princess sends a pointed glare my way and I rub my neck, glancing sheepishly at the floor. My eyes dart up at a tinkling, bell-like laugh as Lyra cracks. “I knew Kino didn’t fit you. Roland is much better.”

I give her a small smile, then catch Ma smirking at me from the corner of my eye. I clear my throat and glance at her.

“I’ve come to get you out."

She sighs, a haggard and drawn sound. “The Allfather lead me here, Roland, and now I know why. Princess Lyra needs me, and I won’t abandon her now.”

“You will abandon Jed and Barry, then?” My words come out harsher than I intended, but I mean them. Barry and Jed need their mother. I need her.

“I am here, Roland. And I am here until the Allfather calls us both to leave.”

I rub my forehead as the headache there throbs behind my eyes. A soft touch on my neck and a hidden dagger is at the person’s throat before they can blink. Lyra watches me with calm brown eyes, watching and waiting.

I sheath the blade with more force than necessary and blow out a breath. “Forgive me, m’lady,” I whisper through a hoarse throat.

She smiles gently. “Frida has told me some. I have pieced the rest. Do not fear, I am not offended. Would you mind if I helped with the headache?”

Her brows furrow as if she can feel my pain, and her eyes communicate thoughtful and genuine kindness. I can do nothing but nod.

Her fingers press against my skin, and all at once I feel tingles race across my neck and down my arms. But I flinch as I remember other touches that ended only with pain.

“It’s alright, Roland. I’ll stop. You need only say so.” She backs away, but I grasp her fingers.

“Please, continue.”

You are besotted, Cynic says, awe in his voice. Do not complain to me about Heather any longer. I don’t want to hear it!

I ignore him as her fingers gingerly tread on the knots in my neck. A pain shoots up my skull as she presses her fingers against the base of my neck, but when she releases... it eases the headache.

I crane my head to stare back at her, incredulous. “How did you do that?”

She smiles, kind and full and crinkling her eyes. “I have my talents, just as you have yours.”

I nod, giving her a bow. “You have my thanks, m’lady.”

“Lyra,” she commands.

My entire face softens in a smile. “Lyra,” I repeat.

I pull my gaze from that smile making my heart leap from my chest and eye Frida, who is looking much too smug.

“You won’t come, then? Neither of you? I can get you both out.”

Frida shakes her head, just as Lyra says, “I have work yet to do. I’m needed here.”

I nod, turning to go, but Lyra catches my arm. I flinch, but she only smiles knowingly, kindness making her glow from the inside out as peaceful chamomile wafts from her. “We’ll meet again.”

I return her smile, feeling my eyes crinkle at the corners. “I hope so, Lyra.”

“Allfather willing,” Frida says, a smile in her voice she's trying to suppress.

I leave, but stay in the secret passage for hours to make sure true guards find the two women and ensure they are with trusted men who can protect them, even if Ma did quite well on her own.

After bandits attacked Ma and almost killed her, Pa requested I help her learn to defend herself. It seems it worked even better than I expected.

I leave, a pep in my step I haven’t felt in a very long time. Life almost seems like it's looking up, as if I'm turning a corner from the betrayals and pain of my past into the light of a new day. Barry is safe and Ma is where she needs to be.

Now it’s time to sabotage the Pits and get Jed back.