Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

JOHA

“ Y our Majesty,” Orion hisses, hurrying after me. His steps are loud on the packed dirt road as we head away from the palace, the shadow of the castle and the Imperial Mountains cooling our backs. It was hard to hide Orion’s hulking form or for me to get him to agree to come, but when I simply informed him I would go alone, he relented. After borrowing two kitchen servants’ cloaks, I almost look the part this time as we move deeper into the Lowers. I make sure to hide my jewellery, but Orion will not cover his sword. He did, however, cover his armour, which is something.

His hard eyes coupled with his square, scarred face has many moving out of our path as we cut our way through the Lowers. “Do not call me that here,” I remind him, “unless you wish to be mobbed.”

“Joha,” he snaps instead, catching my arm. “What are you doing?”

Covering his hand, I lean in. “Trust me, brother,” I beg, my eyebrows raised. He has always looked out for me, both as a friend and my guard, so I understand why he is concerned by this.

When he sighs reluctantly and releases my arm, I grin, tightening my cloak to ensure nothing shows underneath. “I have a plan.” That is all I will tell him. I know he will try to convince me this is a bad, reckless idea, and maybe it is, but I have to do something. This needs to be done. I cannot continue to live like this, and neither can our people, as evidenced by the ruins and starvation surrounding me.

Children run around half-clothed, messy, and begging for food. Men fight others for scraps of bread, and women sell their bodies to dress their children. It must change. While the Lowers struggle to survive, the nobles thrive with feasts, banquets, parties, and opulence. It will only continue this way unless I can do something about it. I know most think of me as a useless king, but I never wanted to be. I want to change it all, which is exactly why I am here, potentially risking my life for the betterment of my people like a true king, searching for the woman with the emerald eyes and bright hair.

Alyx.

If I am to save our lands and people, then it all depends on that female assassin—one who cannot be bought. I need someone who’s willing to get their hands dirty.

I need someone to look like a pawn while playing a queen.

First, I must find her, and surprisingly, assassins are not easy to find. I check the alley where we met, but there are only some stray animals fighting over bones. The bodies of the bandits are gone, which surprises me. Next, I move into Christ Church Market. It’s packed to the edges with stalls selling clothes, food, alcohol, and even weapons. Each stall is made of leftover wood, some from old ships or houses, with their wares hastily carved into the knotted timber. Some have dirty, stained tents above them to protect them from the elements, but many do not.

There is no reason or sense to the layout of the market, and they are crammed together with people screaming and fighting to get through. It’s a thriving place for pickpockets, many of which I see moving through the crowd and stealing from the oblivious. Tugging one of my coin pouches closer, I make sure to keep my eyes sharp as I manoeuvre through the activity. My eyes track everyone, searching for the brightness in the dullness.

Orion cuts a path behind us, protecting my back, for which I am eternally grateful.

“Sir, how about a genuine amethyst necklace for your woman?”

“Miss, how about a new shawl?”

“Take a look at our newest delivery of berries, straight from the field!”

The noise is overwhelming compared to the quiet serenity of the palace, where nobody raises their voice nor grabs anyone, and I have to force myself to relax and blend in. I cannot afford to cause a scene. I am here for a reason, but it simply seems like my reason is not here.

Where else could I find an assassin?

After searching for a while without luck, I find myself on the outskirts of Christ Church, wandering the streets aimlessly in hopes she will appear. Is this her hunting ground? I can feel Orion’s confusion and frustration as time passes. It won’t be long before I am found missing, and I must be back before then. At that moment, I watch two men slink down the side of a wooden house with the front door askew. They seem to be tailing a man dragging a wooden cart who’s talking to a soldier.

Perfect.

I hurry after them, and when they duck into an alley, I follow them. “Excuse me,” I call loudly.

They spin in shock. Their faces are filthy, covered in dirt that looks days old. Their clothes have many holes and hang from their skinny frames, and their rancid smell makes my nose twitch even from here. Their hair is shorn and uneven, but their eyes are sharp and intelligent. A disguise maybe?

“I am looking for a woman,” I say when they simply stare.

The one on the left chuckles. “You are in the wrong place for women. Go to the brothels near the river.”

I can’t contain my blush, and when my words come, I stammer. “Ah, not like that. She is an assassin. How do I find her?”

That gets their attention. Their eyes sharpen, and they stand taller, making me realise they were hunched. Are these assassins? It is hard to tell. Where Alyx looked put together and clean, they are the opposite.

“The Daggers? You do not find them; they will find you,” the one on the right replies ominously.

“Come, my—Joha.” Orion snarls. “These little rats know nothing.”

The men in question grin and scurry away like the rats Orion called them, and I peer up at his stern face in confusion. “Little rats?”

“It’s what they are called in the Lowers. They spy and report back, moving unseen and unwanted, but beware of their teeth.” His eyes drop to me, though they don’t stay on me for long, busy scanning the area. “Why are you seeking an assassin, Joha?” I hesitate, and he sighs. “Assassins are not to be played with. The Daggers?—”

“So you know them?”

“The Daggers are paid killers located in the Lowers. They practically run these streets. They venture into noble land when paid, and even though they are looked down upon, many pay for their services. Are you planning to do so?” he demands.

“In a way,” I admit, walking so we do not look odd.

“Joha,” he admonishes. “You?—”

“Stop,” I command before he lectures me. “I am not asking your opinion. You promised to trust me, so trust me.”

“I am worried about you, Joha,” he whispers as we walk side by side. “I have been since your father’s death when you took the throne.”

“You worry too much, old friend,” I reply with a coy smile, pretending the mention of my father’s death doesn’t cause my heart to kick painfully in my chest. “Now, where do you think we’ll find these Daggers?”

It is only then that I realise we have traversed down empty roads, and when the noise of a rock being kicked assaults my ears, we both turn. Standing behind us, feet away, are four men dressed in all black. One has a familiar cloak on, and I perk up, even as Orion places his arm before me and pulls his sword. “Stay behind me, Joha.”

“Hand over your money and we will let you live,” one in the middle calls. I cannot see their faces due to the hoods and masks, but the voice sounds distinctly male.

“Very well.” I pull out my pouch and ignore Orion as I step closer. “If you tell me where to find Alyx, you can have all my money.”

Another chuckles. “We will just take it.”

“See him?” I nod at Orion, who is double their size. “He will kill you first, so save yourself the trouble and take the money for services rendered. Where do I find Alyx of the Daggers?”

One of them pulls his mask down and grins. “You want to find Alyx?”

I nod eagerly as the others chuckle.

“Fine, we’ll tell you. She will eat you alive, noble.” His hand darts for the money, but I step back. “Find her at the tavern by the docks. She is hunting.”

Throwing the pouch to him, I watch his arm dart out and catch it effortlessly. “Good luck, noble. You will need it, even with the big man.” They fade back into the shadows as effortlessly as they appeared.

Smiling brightly, I turn to Orion. “To the docks!”

“You are going to get us killed, Joha.” He sighs but does not try to stop me as he tucks his sword away.

“Only you, my friend, only you,” I tease.

The docks are very different from what I imagined. I do not leave the palace often, but Father took me with him to greet some dignitaries from the Rising Sun Islands once. The docks, however, were on the other side of the Lanide River, which splits the Lowers from the other provinces where the nobles reside.

That side of the docks gleamed with brand-new warships and ferries, and it was so bright and colourful, it was like a celebration. The taverns there overflowed with nobles and riches, and the shops sparkled with jewels and delicacies. The road is even made of stone, leading right to the peaceful blue water of our bay.

Here, on this side of the river, the docks are very different indeed.

It’s another stark reminder of the split in our lands. The port on this side is an old, floating wooden dock with smaller ships, mainly fishing vessels, in dire need of repair. Men throw barrels of fish and nets from the boats to the dock, the fragrant smell of fish, sewage, and mouldy food assaulting my senses.

The shops here are boarded up, but I see flames inside, indicating people live there. The one bright spot here is the tavern. No wonder they did not tell me a name. It is the only one in business. It looks to be built over the river, and it’s at least four stories of towering dark wood with windows cut out on each level. A wooden sign, hand painted with a naked mermaid and a ship blowing in the ocean breeze, hangs above the open doorway spewing laughter, music, and frivolity.

Tables are spread across the street and docks, overflowing with people. Some are passed out, some are eating, and some are drinking. It is a shock for the senses. I see men and women touching, flirting, and dancing, breaking every law we have in the palace. There is no careful distance here, no courtly bows and conversation.

This place exudes life in its filthiest and barest form.

I like it.

It is then I see a concealed merchant vessel at the far end of the dock. The men working on it and the flag give it away. I do not understand why it is hidden, but I watch two men in silk cloaks disembark, their faces hidden as they hurry towards the tavern, clearly trying to hide.

They shine so brightly with wealth, I am surprised a bandit does not appear.

However, someone else does.

Alyx slinks from the shadows, wearing the same, skintight black suit as the other day, only this time I see the brown harness hugging her bust, overflowing with weapons. Her sword hangs at her side, the one she saved me with and also used to steal from me. Hanging around her throat is my father’s necklace, my necklace, as if to dare anyone to try and take it from her.

Her bright hair is plaited back and hanging over her left shoulder as her blazing eyes search the road she crosses, following the two rich men silently. Boots with silver latches reach her knees as she splashes through puddles without a care.

My breathing stops, and my heart skips as I watch her slink from shadow to shadow, her targets none the wiser. A cruel but amusing plan comes to mind.

“Alyx!” I yell rather uncouthly.

She turns, as do her marks, her eyes narrowing at her name.