Chapter 35

Chapter

Thirty-Five

ORION

A lyx has left a trail of bodies behind over the last few days. I know it is her, and Joha knows it is her—hell, from the twinkling mirth in her eyes when she looks at us, she knows we know it was her.

It’s put me on edge. Joha seemed angry during the meeting, but after, when I came for him to report my findings, he looked forlorn and even muttered strange ramblings about never judging an assassin by its blade. Ever since then, he has been down, and it doesn’t seem to help that Alyx is avoiding him. I know she is busy doing whatever fake queens-to-be and assassins do, but his eyes linger on her when he sees her in the palace, and I see unspoken words in his gaze that don’t bode well.

He cannot afford to be attached to the assassin, but it’s growing clearer by the day that he is. He spent the night in her bed, he looks to her for guidance, and he trusts her.

Not only that, but I kissed her and let her in.

She’s tricky, and she’s a problem, and I need to understand anything that is a problem to my king. Alyx didn’t come from nowhere. She must have a past, a weakness, something I can use if need be, just in case, because despite me wanting the assassin, my king comes first. It is my duty and my honour to protect him as his guard and his friend, if that be from blades or afflictions of the heart, which is exactly why I find myself squishing my lumbering frame into the small spaces of Scholars House, where all records of every being in the kingdom are kept. Each province in the Uppers holds more in-depth details. As for the Lowers, I am not sure, but every birth, family name, and information legally has to be kept here. It’s as good a place as any to begin my search. After all, she is not the only one who can hunt. I do have to be discreet, though, because if anyone findsout who I am searching for and why, it could ruin everything Joha is working for, not to mention get us killed. This is why I bribe some of the scholars with time off of basic training, which every male is required to do, and they leave me in peace. Shelves of scrolls dating back before the years the kingdom began span before me, with tight, little walkways leading a merry path throughout.

I settle in for the long haul, but I do manage to narrow it down between certain years on a supposition of her age. It leaves me with leeway of around eight years’ worth of scrolls to look through. I discard all males and all of those related to marriage—I cannot imagine Alyx has been married as of yet, not unless she did it to kill him. Slowly but surely, my pile dwindles, and I tug ones out in order, quickly scanning them before putting them back when I realise they are not her. Is Alyx her real name, or is it close to her real name? Was she born in the Lowers? What about her family? These thoughts plague me. Families are harder to track within the Lowers but not impossible. It will just take time.

I cannot be gone from my post all day, however, so I resign myself to having to come back and continue the search until I find what I’m looking for—the truth about the assassin.

I manage to search a good chunk of the scrolls before my eyes begin to blur from the dim lighting and dust and I give up for the day. I don’t want Joha to remain unprotected for too long, especially not with his absent mind and the assassination attempts. I thank the scholars on the way out and emerge from the three-story building into the late afternoon sun. It blinds me for a moment, which is the only reason I don’t see her straight away. When I do, I jerk back, my hand dropping to my sword on instinct.

She smirks. “Easy, big guy.”

“Alyx,” I snap.

Her grin only grows as she leans next to the door in another dramatic dress, this one blood red and showcasing her every curve. Her hair is artfully piled on top of her head, showing off her slender neck, and her hands are decorated with ornate rings. She twirls her fingers in the air like she wishes there were a dagger in her hand. It wouldn’t surprise me if there was. I often wonder where she hides them in the dresses she wears, but that thought only leads to trouble, so I shake my head.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, glancing around for Joha or her maids, but none are to be found. She is far too wily.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she retorts with a knowing look.

“I was looking up births for the year, you know, for celebration rituals and dates. I thought Joha could use a celebration to cheer him up, not that he’s sad, but it was just an idea. He likes parties, but then I remembered that would be a prime opportunity for an assassin to strike—not you, or maybe you, I don’t know. Either way, I was . . . looking.” I cough to cover my embarrassment over my blundering attempt at a lie, which was more of a rambling concession of guilt.

Her eyebrow arches as she pushes away from the wall and moves closer. “Don’t forget whose side we are on, Orion. Lying to each other does not form trust.” Her hand lands on my breast plate, and with a wicked grin, she presses up on her toes and places a taunting kiss on my cheek. It burns me through like a brand or a promise.

There’s a flurry of movement, and my eyes track it as it goes back behind the building, but not before I spy a palace maid’s skirt.

Shit, that isn’t good, not at all.