Yet again, Nadine had helped Hanne beyond expectations.
Hanne smiled. This was how life worked best: the two of them against everyone else.
* * *
With a smile on her face and a dagger in her boot (and a pair of Caberwilline guardsmen trailing behind her), Hanne walked to the office where the king had interrogated her the day before. She flashed the two sentries standing before the door her prettiest grin. “Good evening, soldiers.”
One nodded at her. “Your Highness.”
“The king isn’t to be disturbed,” said the other.
“I’m afraid I must insist,” she said sweetly. “It’s regarding our alliance.”
As she was speaking, and as the guards all exchanged uncertain looks, danger suddenly prickled the hairs on the back of Hanne’s neck. Something was wrong. Something—
Hanne ducked and rolled out of the way in one motion, her body reacting before her mind even understood why. But instinct had saved her: a small bolt zipped past where her head had been and struck a sentry in the chest. His blood sprayed as he fell, and that was it: he was dead.
Without pausing to look for the attacker or to see what the other men would do, Hanne lunged for the office door and threw herself inside. The door shut with a bang as she scanned the room for new threats.
But the office was empty, save for the king.
“Princess Johanne!” He lurched to his feet, scattering papers. “What is this—” He stopped when the door flew open again, revealing a second guard slumping against the frame. A pool of blood was expanding through the hall. All the men were dead.
Now, she caught sight of the assailant: an older man wearing a beige shirt and trousers, calf-high boots, and worn leather gloves. He was in the process of exchanging his small crossbow for a pair of daggers when Hanne locked eyes with him, and she knew exactly what he was.
An Ivaslander assassin.
But was he after her or King Opus? The first bolt had been aimed at her, but he’d been hidden outside the king’s office. Regardless of the truth, she needed to make this work in her favor.
“Your Majesty, you’re under attack!” Hanne shouted.
If Opus was distracted by an assault on his life, then he wasn’t paying attention to her.
The king cursed and drew a knife from the underside of his desk, while Hanne moved out of view of the assassin, pressing herself against a bookcase. Unless there was a secret exit to this room, the Ivaslander had them cornered and he knew it.
“You.” Opus crouched behind his desk, his knife gleaming. “What is the meaning of this, Embrian snake? What have you done?”
Clearly Hanne had miscalculated. His hatred for Embrians was such that he would never ignore her, even in the face of a more obvious threat.
“Nothing!” She hadn’t yet drawn her dagger from her boot, but she felt certain the moment she bent to arm herself, he would fling his own knife into her heart. “I came here to speak about our alliance!”
A scowl flashed across the king’s face, but another crash came from the hall; a man was shouting for reinforcements.
“Who is that man out there, girl?”
“I think you know.” Hanne glanced over her shoulder just in time to see another guard die in the hall.
“Hurry!” cried a guard from out of view. “To the king!”
“An attack on Small Mountain this morning, and now an assassin? I don’t know how you managed to work this evil, but I know it was you.” Opus rounded the desk and rushed at her. “After my guards subdue that man, you will be questioned. You lied about the malsite. How did you escape?”
Metal clanged on metal as more men arrived to defend Opus. There was, unfortunately, no one to defend Hanne. No one but herself.
Burn it. This was not going according to plan. Still, Tuluna the Tenacious would provide an opportunity; all Hanne had to do was take it.
“I did not cause this. I want to destroy Ivasland. This man is clearly here to divide us.” She weighed her options. None were good. “Your Majesty.” She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to look frightened, as though anything mortal could frighten her anymore. “We need to find a way out of here. Is there another exit?”
“My men will deal with this,” Opus said sharply.
Hanne clasped her hands together, then made herself jump when something crashed in the hall. A curse, a thump, a gurgle: someone had just died, and it was not the assassin; none of the guards were moving into the office to make sure the king was unharmed.
King Opus’s men were not dealing with this very well, from what Hanne could see.
She curled her shoulders in as though she were just a meek thing. “Your Majesty, please! Isn’t there something you can do?”
He glanced toward the door, where the fighting was only escalating. Many men lay dead on the floor, their bodies punctured or slashed open. This Ivaslander was a true master of the art.
“Your Majesty?” She kept her voice small.
And then King Opus fully turned and faced the noise of the hall, the struggle of his men. It was just enough to show her his back.
She drew her dagger from her boot. At least now she wasn’t defenseless, but as the fighting spilled into the office—two guards and the assassin closing in on the king—she wished for a weapon a little more substantial. She threw herself behind the desk for protection, hitting the floor hard enough to bruise.
The room was all chaos for a moment, furniture overturned, papers in the air. Another man died with the clatter of steel, and then the Ivaslander turned his murderous glare not on the king, but on Hanne.
“There you are.” His voice was soft and raspy, like the scrape of scales on stone. “Abagail sends her regards.”
Hanne repressed a shudder. The huge wooden block of the desk was between her and everyone else—the assassin, the king, the lone remaining guard—and her choices were almost none.
“He means to kill me!” she shrieked. “Your Majesty, I could be with child now! He’s trying to kill my baby!”
But the king had already raised his knife and thundered toward the man.
Though King Opus was a giant, he moved quickly as he drove his blade toward the assassin’s throat. The Ivaslander blocked and pivoted, throwing the sole remaining guard in front of Opus, and the two went crashing to the ground with angry and confused shouts.
Then the assassin turned his eyes to Hanne, daggers dripping with the blood of all the men he’d just killed.
The king hauled himself up and grabbed at the remaining guard. “Go,” he said, pushing the other man toward the door. “Reinforcements. Now!”