Assassination. Hexis still didn’t know how to feel about it.

They waited in a half-crouch behind a dry oak tree, eyes tracking the rows of guards as they escorted various people of importance into the keep that sat a distance up the hill. Most were nobility from surrounding towns, and the rest were merchants from the same towns who hoped that somehow the excitement of the event might encourage business from the same people who had avoided their business so long.

Hexis ignored them. If Miracca had wanted someone to blend in with the guests and gather information, she’d have sent Voryis. No, the guards were what interested them, and what kept them from just strolling inside and finishing what they were there for.

If they’d known this event was going to happen, Miracca would have just gotten them an invitation. She could do that sort of thing as the Sheer. But apparently, this lord didn’t widely broadcast her intentions, at least not widely enough for the Sheer to get word of them. And maybe that was on purpose.

After all, when the Sheer got word of certain things… she sent certain people to remedy the situation.

The certain person glanced up to the keep again. The outer wall was guarded all the way around, so they couldn’t just sneak in from the back, but that was better anyway. It meant they wouldn’t have to go through so many people before getting to the inner keep’s entrance. But how do I get in through the front without an invitation? And with my daggers, no less?

The sound of wheels came to their ears, and they turned to see a merchant driving a wagon up the road. A covered wagon. Hexis quickly glanced around to see where the nearest guards were — they were accompanying an elderly noble a ways ahead. This was as good a chance as any, and their heart both lifted and sank a bit, ending up in even more of a confused knot than it had already been in.

Here we go. They picked a large-ish rock off the ground and situated it in their palm. They eyed the rough trajectory they were hoping for, then wound up and hurled the rock forward. It clattered down very loudly in front of the covered wagon, causing the poor merchant and his horse both to jump in surprise.

Hexis was already sprinting forward. They ducked down and rolled under the wagon so any scanning eyes wouldn’t immediately spot them. When it rolled past them and they were exposed again, they spun and jumped up, pulling the cover open enough to climb inside and closing it behind them.

It smelled like onions.

Of course the one I choose is full of onions.

They rolled their eyes, gritted their teeth, and dug into the onions, knowing the wagon would probably get some sort of passing inspection as it entered the keep. The best idea was to not be immediately visible, so they pulled the onions back on top of them, covering themself as well as they could.

Sure enough, the wagon stopped, and they heard some rustling and a few voices remarking on the quality of the onions and how Lord Leneha would be pleased.

She would be, if she ever got the chance to see them.

The wagon lurched forward again, and Hexis knew they didn’t have a lot of time before the merchant opened it. So they sat up, pushing the onions away, and peeled the wagon’s cover back just enough to peek out.

Naturally, the guard at the gate happened to be looking directly at the wagon when it opened. His eyes narrowed, then widened when they made contact with Hexis’, and he jumped to his feet.

Hexis let out a sigh and tore the cover back, jumping out. They spun as they landed, white and black cape swishing around them and sending flakes of onion skin fluttering into the air, then darted straight for the inner keep’s open entrance. The guards would want to keep this as quiet as possible so as to not scare the guests, so they gave themself at least a few seconds to get lost before being openly pursued.

Inside, they sprinted down the keep’s big center hallway, past a few startled guests and servants, and launched themself up the large stairs. On the next floor’s landing — there was still one more to climb — they turned to the side at the first opportunity, hoping to get out of the guards’ line of sight.

The room they burst into had two servants in it, both of whom turned to Hexis with very startled expressions.

“I’m sorry, wrong room,” they forced out. Good world, I’m a terrible actor. “Can you tell me where Lord Leneha is? I need to tell her something.” As the words left their mouth, their stomach churned. They were doing anything but telling her something.

Well, they supposed that technically, they were here to deliver a message. But it was a very particular kind of message, and one that didn’t involve a lot of telling.

One of the servants furrowed her brow. “You-” she scanned Hexis’ form, adorned in a very non-guest-like outfit- “want to talk with Lord Leneha?” She was skeptical, but… it almost seemed like she was going to humor them.

“No, I don’t,” they blurted through gritted teeth. “That’s not what I’m here for, and you can see that. You’re not idiots, so I won’t treat you like idiots.” Fuck, they mentally shouted, curling their fists.

As looks of confusion crossed the servants’ faces, Hexis snatched one of their daggers from its place at their belt. It sang free and stopped in front of one servant’s chest. “Tell me where Lord Leneha is, right now, or I will end your life.” They spat the words like the poison they were.

The woman gaped, eyes bugging in terror. “I… don’t…”

The blade touched her breast.

“Next floor up, in the sitting room. Talking with some other nobles,” she babbled.

Hexis nodded, flipping their dagger and sliding it back into its sheath. “You can tell the guards I’m coming, but they’re already on their way.”

Spinning around, they dashed back to the stairs, only taking a glance to see that the guards were furiously interrogating the guests on the floor below. One spotted them, and after a lot of commotion, the pursuit began again.

That was just as well. If Miracca had wanted someone to do this quietly, she’d have sent Dyasen. But she wanted to make an example. She wanted this lord’s death to be a message to others who might have made the same mistakes.

She’d sent Hexis, and they were going to deliver the message.