Whispers and Shadows

Chapter 6

Blue

I swallowed hard.

How had he done that? No one and I meant no one, had ever shaken me quite like Mikael had just now. He knew my name. He knew I was Prince Damian’s personal assassin. He knew too much. An old feeling rose up in me.

I curled my hands into fists. I wanted to silence him: cut out his tongue, maybe rip out his innards. No one knew the real me. No one had ever pieced together who I really was: Prince Damian’s bastard half-blood was his most trusted right arm.

He stroked his smooth chin, his handsome face composed and thoughtful. “You needn’t fear me, assassin. I’ve suspected for some time your true identity; as you can see, I never betrayed you.”

I frowned. “Betrayed would imply there was a relationship between us. You cannot betray what is not yours.”

His smile grew wider. “Is that so?”

For the first time in a long time, I felt out of my depth. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what the prince wanted or was even thinking. And I was starting to question whether my coming here hadn’t somehow been engineered by him as well. There was a quickness to his mind that made me both fearful and oddly intrigued.

I could deny what he said, but I would lose ground if I did. He already knew the truth about me. If I lied, I would risk a much-needed alliance. And I needed him to be on my side. I knew that now without a doubt.

Wetting my lips, heart pounding in my chest, I tipped my chin acknowledging that he was correct. Then I spread my hands in a gesture of surrender. “You caught me, Prince Mikael. Red-handed.”

“Tsk.” He leaned back in his seat, still looking at ease.My pulse raced the longer he studied me.

“Now that was very sloppy. But here’s the thing, mistress, you are not sloppy. Ever. You asked me what riddle kept me in the kitchen tonight; in fact, it was you.”

My eyes thinned. “Me?”

He tapped his chin with a long, elegant finger, as though he were contemplating a deep thought, before sighing and saying, “For some time now I’ve been keeping my eye on Damian’s movements. Trying to work out how it was that such an average noble thwarts my every move.”

I frowned.

Average? My father? Average. I almost laughed; only Prince Mikael could be so arrogant. My father was anything but average… except maybe to a man like him.

“It was like he could anticipate what I’d do next, which is highly improbable in and of itself. I knew, of course, of his bastard half-blood that he seemed to treasure like a doting father. But I also know Damian. He’s a segregationist. Believes in the purity of the race.” He waved his fingers. “So why take you in? Why ‘treasure you’?” He finger quoted.

Everything he’d said I’d heard a million times over. I knew what I was in this world of pure and half-bloods. I was less than nothing. I shrugged. “What is your point, Prince?”

He smirked. “Is it possible that the filthy half-blood is more?” He said it like someone quoting what others had said, and not necessarily what he believed.

Prince Mikael was hard to figure out. He was talking animatedly with me and didn’t seem bothered to share his tea and sweets with me.

“Was it possible his new toy was actually the rumored ‘shadow whisperer’ of the realm? Could she really be blessed with the virtues of the great goddess? The more I thought of such an unlikely and almost-preposterous scenario the more I realized it made a twisted sort of sense.”

The Prince took a small sip of his tea, eyeing me carefully, defying me silently to deny any part of what he’d said.

Could he have guessed everything? Few knew it, that the other half of me was light fae. It was the most despised of all possible pairings in the lower realm, and so father had hid that fact as best he could. But this mixing also gave me unique, if profane, prower. If he’d uncovered this, it could explain how he’d guessed my identity.

Born of light and dark, I was anathema to both my kind. I was a creature of everywhere and nowhere. Desired by all and wanted by none. But it was because I was born of both realms that I’d become as powerful as I had, it made me a vexing problem to all.

He gave a long and melodramatic sigh. He was like an actor on a stage. And despite the fact that Prince Mikael was a far deadlier adversary than I’d ever come across before, I found myself entertained.

“I suppose you’re a segregationist too, then?” I asked.

“Me?” He tapped his chest. “Ah no. I find the whole idea of good blood and bad blood to be a boorish and antiquated notion. In practice it merely excuses the nobles’ bad behaviors. There is no good blood or bad blood; if there was, your father surely wouldn’t have become Prince. He’s got what some would call bad blood, you see.”

Despite myself, I chuckled. Prince Mikael was speaking far too casually of something that could be called treasonous in certain circles. What a strange creature he was. “Well, seeing how I am half him, I suppose I’m bad blood, too.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. The jury is still out on that one. I prefer to judge whether I will hate a person or not based on their own merit. So, do I hate you, assassin?”

I narrowed my eyes.

He smirked. “This was a test, you see.”

I cocked my head, waiting for him to continue. But when he didn’t move I realized Prince Mikael was still testing me.

His full lips were tipped up in a lazy smile, and that indulgent light hadn’t left his eyes. For some twisted reason he seemed to be enjoying himself. Immensely.

And then it hit me: the caravan. Father had sent me to exterminate the princess in order to force Prince Mikael to reach out to him and begin talks. Father wanted to turn Prince Mikael’s influence to his advantage.

But last time the Prince hadn’t taken the bait. He’d never come to Father to demand answers, though now I knew he surely had realized it was Prince Damian who’d cut his bride down.

So why hadn’t he come? Was it possible that the Prince had had an ulterior motive?

My gaze shot instantly to his.

“Ah,” he said, smile growing even wider. “So, you are the x factor.”

He’d had Princess Scimica sent to him tonight to lure me out. If I was the strategist he suspected me of being, I would tell Father that she must be taken out. Prince Mikael, it seemed, had no intention of aligning with Father. Everything had been about me.

The only difference was that this time I’d taken the bait he’d laid out for me. Last time I’d reported dutifully back to Father after slaughtering the princess. For that reason alone, Prince Mikael hadn’t had a chance to work his influence over me.

“I’ll be damned,” I muttered with a chuckle; I’d been outfoxed. Maybe even I was out of my league with this man. That thought sat sour on my tongue. Had I made a grave miscalculation already?

I eyed the arrogant-looking prince, making certain to keep my face free of emotion. But inside of me, klaxons were ringing.

The prince had charisma in spades. It made him powerful. It also made him someone I could ill afford to ever fully trust. He was far more deadly than I’d anticipated.

Still, he’d created this web in the other timeline too. And I’d not taken the bait then, which meant I still had autonomy. Now I knew and now, more than ever, I’d be on guard against his schemes.

I smiled.

He seemed a bit surprised by my reaction. He cocked his head, tapping a finger against his cheekbone, staring at me intently. “So, the beautiful assassin knows something I do not. That’s okay,” he held up his hands, “We’re all allowed our secrets, are we not, my lady?”

I sucked in a sharp breath, realizing the honor he’d just shown me by using a title that was not really my own.

Coughing delicately into my hand, I shook my head. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but it’s wholly unnecessary, Prince Mikael. I am neither beautiful nor a lady. I am merely me.”

He shrugged. “If that’s how you wish it, mistress, then I shall abide you. Assassins don’t eat cookies, not on the job, which means you are not here to kill me. So tell me, little death, why are you here?”

Undoing the knot on my belt, I sat the pouch down on the floor in front of me.

“Her head, I presume,” he asked with a bored drawl.

I nodded. “I had a full speech planned, but you are refreshingly insightful, Prince. I appreciate that. You are correct, I have been Father’s strategist.”

“Impressive,” he said slowly, and for some reason I knew he meant it.

I felt a flush rise in my cheeks. Why was I acting like this? What was happening to me? I never got shaken, but I was tonight.

He poured himself a cup of tea, then took a slow sip. “I will hear you, little death.”

For some reason that had sounded an awful lot like an endearment. I frowned. That old, awful need that I’d never been able to fully eradicate would be the end of me. I closed my eyes. This man, while brilliant, didn’t truly care about me. No one in Demonia did.

I looked at him. “You wish to ascend the throne. I will hand the crown to you, Prince Mikael.”

He looked at me as if he were trying to figure me out. “And what do you get out of this?”

“Peace.”

This time he really did look startled. His chin slipped off his hand and he shook his head. “What? That’s all? You don’t want riches? Power? A title? Even my hand?” He rolled said hand with a befuddled expression.

I shook my head. Most women in my position would do almost anything to gain the title of future empress. “I hold no illusions about who I am. I am offering you my mind and my hands, Prince Mikael. That is all.”

“Why?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“You are not at all what I expected.”

I stood, grabbing one last cookie. He smirked and I shrugged. “You might have missed your true calling, Prince Mikael.”

“How do I contact you?” He asked as I turned to go.

I shook my head, nibbling on my delicious cookie. I wondered if I could just take the whole plate; he could always bake some more. I was a nightmare in the kitchen.

“You don’t. I will come to you as I have tonight. When the time is right.”

He nodded, and I slipped back out the way I’d come in.