Chapter 28: Three, Four—

Chapter 28: Three, Four—

The third week.

There was a small courtyard tucked away at the northeastern corner of the castle, where the wall of the hawkery backed up against the edge of a guard tower, creating a quiet space about fifteen feet by twenty. Though the guards could look down at any time, they rarely did. It was sheltered from the weather; the hawkery acted as a windbreak. There was only a dusting of white snow on the paving stones and on the disused crates stacked along one wall. His were the first footprints to break it.

Aaron began practicing with his dagger again.

* * *

The fourth week.

The princess froze, a knife tip pressed to her back.

Its going to keep blocking your view, Aaron said. Keep it on if youd like, but youll die every time. Now. Again.

He slid back a step, falling into a loose stance, the wooden practice blade held easily in his palm. The princess spun to face him. Stubbornly, she readjusted her hood. Sweaty frizzes of red hair escaped out its sides, while milky green eyes dared him to say anything. Aaron simply waited, as Rose painstakingly adjusted her footing, her stance, her grip. He could hear footsteps behind him, coming closer, but put them out of his mind: this wouldnt take long.

Ready? he asked.

She checked her footing one more time, then nodded. Ready.

In the space of a heartbeat, two of the wooden blades were pressed against her side. One of them was her own. It was to this scene that Second Lieutenant Varghese entered the courtyard.

Rose pushed back the edge of her hood just enough to glare at him. How can I block if you keep changing the way you attack?

How can you block if you cant see where I am? Aaron countered. Trust me, Your Highness, an assassin wont stop to admire your face. Back me up here, Lieutenant.Updated from novelb(i)n.c(o)m

It was the first time Aaron had seen the man since the night in the princess room, and he offered a smile in greeting. It was not returned. It was not returned to such a degree that Aarons own smile froze on his face, and quietly slipped away. The lieutenant moved stiffly. He had a limp that Aaron didnt remember, and colder eyes.

Your Highness, he said, bowing low. Your father requests that you return to the royal apartments.

The princess straightened herself up, and regarded the redcoat haughtily.

Those were his exact words, Second Lieutenant? she inquired.

To which the ill-humored lieutenant was forced to reply: No, Your Highness. His Majesty was concerned by your disappearance from your quarters, and wished for you to be found.

It was my father who said this? the girl pressed.

Prince Orin ordered a search for you, on His Majestys behalf. The king is resting.

The lieutenant went to a chair, but stayed on his feet. Youre not sitting down, he commented.

Neither are you. Staying on my feet keeps me awake, Aaron explained, mildly. You may recall that Im not well. Please, though, have a seat.

Lochlann leaned against the arm of the chair, a hand on the hilt of his sword. Aaron couldnt tell whether the gesture was intentional or not; whether the man even knew he was doing it, or whether he was just that tense.

You seemed fine in the courtyard.

Lochlann, he asked, how did you get injured?

The mans sudden, quiet laugh answered the question altogether too well. The elder prince had told Aaron a guard had been injured trying to restrain him. Orin hadnt said which guard. Now Aaron knew.

I dont remember it, he said. Im sorry.

The lieutenant looked at him, his grip tightening around his sword. He didnt say anything. On Aarons end, there was nothing more to say: he didnt remember it. He was sorry. That was really it.

Youre dangerous, Lochlann said.

Aaron hesitated; then gave a small, nearly imperceptible nod. Lochlann waited as if for more, but what else was there to say on that subject, either?

Extremely dangerous. You slid a blade between an assassins ribs like you were splitting a peach. You took down a member of the royal guard while you were barely conscious. And yet, even with these things, His Majesty has expressed no interest in your origins; has given no orders to find where you came from, or what it was that you did before you came here. Why is that?

Aarons fingers tightened around the edge of the table. What do you want me to say?

Say that youll be gone by morning.

Not morning, he countered. Four weeks.

Four weeks, Lochlann repeated the number with a certain incredulity. And why is that?

I need the passes to open. I need to get out of this city. He took in a breath, and let it out slowly. And I need to get well enough that I can survive.

Four weeks.

Four weeks. Please. Just until the snow melts.

The lieutenant nodded stiffly, his knuckles white around his sword hilt.

Aaron was glad of it. He liked the lieutenant of the guard, and Lochlann seemed good at his job. He wouldnt want anything unfortunate happening to the man.