Amaskan's Blood by Raven Oak (best self help books to read TXT) 📕

with my adopted father, Master Bredych, who values your friendship very much to send his own daughter into such a difficult situation. Despite my own misgivings, I will not dishonor him in my service to you, my liege.”

His face fell a moment before the professional and kingly mask slipped into place, the moment with the father now gone. What the father couldn’t deal with, the King would. “When you leave your room, you must ensure that you are disguised enough that no one knows your background, no one knows who you… are.”

She nodded, and he continued, “There may be times when… another role will be required of you, but we will speak of this later with my daughter present. Her Royal Highness marries in just short of two months’ time. Tomorrow morning, a servant will see to whatever you will need to be present at the event itself. A servant will be assigned to you as portrays your rank—”

“But I’m not a—”

King Leon silenced her with a look. “—As Master of the Sword. Ask whatever you need of your servant, including a new chair. I would tell you, there is more to these attempts than the good captain knows.”

The smell of his sweat reached her, and she gave him a questioning look. “Is she not to be trusted? I thought her your sepier.”

“Yes, well, suffice it to say she can’t be trusted. But that’s not important.” Her father closed his eyes and when he opened them, the fierceness of those muddy ovals worried her. “I suspect the Shadians may be behind this.”

He said the words like they were some great, all-telling statement, and she frowned. “So Captain Warhammer said.” He picked at the corner of a fingernail until she thought she would scream. Instead of terrorizing His Majesty, she merely said, “Whatever’s on your mind, please speak it truthfully. If I’m to do my job, I need all the information you have, Your Majesty.”

“Even rumors?”

“Especially rumors.”

“Why? Gossip serves its purpose well enough at court, but little truth be had from such a creature.”

Adelei’s smile reflected in his eyes as he watched her. “Ah, but there’s where you’re wrong, Your Majesty. Usually a kernel of truth can be found at the root. Rumors will often lead to fact.”

“There are rumors about my daughter’s future husband.” Her leg muscles tensed, and the bed groaned as she shifted her weight. “People say he isn’t a man but some sort of monster. Some sexual deviant who prowls through cities, leaving broken people in his wake. No evidence is ever found. No one left alive to speak word against him. But if this is true, I cannot uphold the treaty. I must know if this man who’s to join my family is what they say he is.”

It was Master Meserre all over again. Just the thought of the man’s name brought her blood to flush across her skin, and she bit the side of her cheek. “Your Majesty, I will do what I can to protect Her Highness, no matter who the enemy may be—be they Shadian, Tribor, or the captain herself.”

He nodded and opened the door to leave. Her father turned back once, the mask slipping. Regret stretched across his frown only to be replaced a second later by a strength she’d never had the chance to know. “We thank you again for coming to us in our time of need, knowing that it cost you greatly to leave your home, as it would cost us greatly to lose a daughter.” And with that, his great frame was gone from the doorway, leaving a puzzled guard who only glanced at her once before leaving to renew his post outside the door.

Adelei wanted nothing more than to curl up in her bed and wallow in a good round of self-pity, but the job stretched before her—a mysterious blank canvas. She rose, wearing her own mask as a shield in front of her.

Now was as good a time as any to get the lay of the castle and the people in it. Better now than as they approached the wedding, where there was sure to be an attempt on Her Highness’s life. The door to her room closed behind her, shutting off the flow of emotions and all thoughts of her father. For the time being, she was Amaskan.

Nothing more. The job was all that mattered.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Three guards stood outside. They tried not to stare at Adelei, whose brown dress would have been more at home in the servant’s quarters than in the royal suite. The long, black tresses from her wig were braided up into an elaborate twist tied with a satin ribbon. The simple dress, rough spun and bearing little embellishment, washed out her complexion, but to the high court, she would be one random person among many.

A man twice Adelei’s age cleared his throat. “Is there something we can do for you, milady? Are you lost?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” She didn’t blame them for not recognizing her. The “small and lost” disguise worked well. Adelei made it one step before the eldest guard blocked her path. She side-stepped and he stumbled forward, misjudging his grab for her arm. His forward motion gave her the advantage, and she twisted his arm behind him. The other two drew their swords, but neither moved against her.

Useless, like the statues in the tapestry behind them.

As quickly as she gained access to the guardsman, she released him with a gentle shove, and he tumbled into the other men. “Rule number one: don’t assume someone is innocent and unarmed because of their attire. Not all assassins dress so obviously—in fact, almost none do. And rule number two: pay attention to who comes and goes from the royal suite. Who has entered these doors in the past hour and not left?”

The shortest of the three, a tubby man with fading red hair answered first. “Her Highness and her lady-in-waiting, her handmaidens, and some Master out of Sadai.”

“Exactly.