One: The Princess Offers Me Money

There was a severed head at the gate.

The head belonged to a gaunt fellow. His cheeks sunk inwards, his skin spotted with red pits. His jaw hung open in a permanent expression of shock, the crudely carved pike shoved through his neck visible at the back of his mouth. He must have been very recently killed too, possibly even just this morning, his eyes not yet the pale gray of a dreary sky. They remained brownish green and bloodshot.

I stopped in front of the severed head, hands in my pockets as I inspected it. The wind shifted, delivering a peculiar odor, and my nose wrinkled. It wasn’t quite rot; the head was too fresh for that, but it wasn’t a healthy smell either.

Unfortunately, the severed head wasn’t a very shocking sight. The palace almost always had a distasteful display of heads at the gate, a warning of what would happen if you broke the laws of Pansolum. I didn’t know what this gent’s crime was, and I didn’t particularly care, but the smell was rather unpleasant, and it was really tanking my mood.

Normally, at this time of day, I would be pilfering snacks from the kindly old lady selling street food on the corner outside my room at the inn or climbing on the roofs of the town to drop on unsuspecting travelers. However, I’d been offered an ungodly amount of money from someone in the palace for my special services, and I would be stupid to pass it up, danger be damned.

This person from the palace had taken great pains to assure me they weren’t trying to screw me over or get me arrested, which was promising. They’d sent me a letter through six different contacts, making no attempt to actually discover my identity, so I had decided to take a chance on it.

My profession, if you could call it that, was heavily frowned upon by the crown, and if I were to ever be discovered, I could end up just like this poor spikey fellow, bodiless and rotting.

I was incredibly curious about who in the palace of all places would need my services, but if they made me wait any longer, I might just say fuck the money. The head’s glassy eyes were starting to freak me out, like the guy was screaming at me from the beyond to get him down. Maybe he was afraid of heights.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot and glanced at the sky. It was just past six, about time for people to start going home for the day. About time for the palace guards to change shifts and notice a loiterer outside this side gate.

Fuck. It was a trap, wasn’t it?

But then again, if it was a trap, I imagine someone would have already popped out to snatch me. I’d been standing here for a quarter of an hour already.

I sighed, side-eyeing the head. Just a little bit longer.

As I was shifting a few feet to the left, hoping to escape the peculiar odor, there was a metallic screech that caused me to dive behind a nearby tree, just in case it was a guard and not my customer.

I peered around the trunk suspiciously only to see a rather short figure in a hooded emerald green cloak step out of the gate, glancing about furtively. The end of a thick golden braid slipped out of the cloak, revealing that this person was either female, or a very short, long-haired male.

Hmm. I’d give it another moment. Just to be sure.

The person scanned the area slowly, placing a hand over their brow to block the evening sun. Seeing no one waiting for them, their shoulders visibly dropped, and they turned to go back inside.

“Your letter said 50,000 gold?” I called. The figure froze, one foot through the gate, then whipped around in excitement, looking in my direction. They clearly knew I was behind the tree, but in an expression of caution – or possibly respect for my identity – they didn’t rush over to me.

“That’s right,” came a clear, high voice. They flipped down their hood, revealing eyes so brown they were a little red in the light, and a delicate, feminine face. “50,000 if you can successfully break my engagement.”

Though I had already disguised myself, I still didn’t come out, because the golden hair and expensive cloak were setting off warning bells in my head. I would be stupid not to guess who she was.

“Your letter didn’t say you were a princess.”

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that a problem?” she asked defensively, confirming my guess.

“Bit dangerous to meddle in the engagement of a princess. 50,000 doesn’t quite cover the risk, in my opinion.”

Her lips pursed, and I could sense her desire to trot behind my tree and kick me. And usually, if I was trying to extort more money from my customers, that reaction was deserved. Except, in this case, the danger really was exceptionally high, and asking for more compensation wasn’t out of the question. Plus, she was a princess. She could afford it.

While she was debating whether to continue dealing with me, I ran through the list of princesses in my head, puzzling out which one this might be.

The king and queen of Pansolum had eight children. Seven daughters, one son. The son, the crown prince, was the eldest. The next three daughters were already married to other nobles and the fourth had gone to an allied kingdom as a student. That left the last three. I couldn’t remember how old they all were; the royals were no concern of mine, but I knew that only two of the three were currently of marriageable age because that’s all the townspeople liked to talk about.

Those two, if I remembered right, were named Mara and Beatrice. I squinted at the princess, trying to guess which one she was. She didn’t look like a Mara or a Beatrice. She looked like a mongoose.

“How much do you want?” the mongoose princess finally said through gritted teeth, clearly unwilling to barter with me, but having no choice. Interesting.

I hummed, pretending to think about it. Her blond brows wrinkled in a scowl that was very un-princess-like.

Definitely a mongoose.

“75,000 should be just enough to cover it,” I said, in a tone like I was doing her a favor by keeping it so cheap.

My usual fee for most common folk was maybe 1,000 silver, less if they were really poor, more if they were rich. I was nothing if not considerate of my customers’ financial situations.

But I wasn’t lying about the danger of breaking the engagement of a princess. If I were caught meddling in a royal courtship, I would be paying for it with my life. 75,000 gold was an egregious amount to ask, sure, but if I succeeded, I would be set for life. High risk, high reward. Though the princess was certainly aware that I was overcharging her, she understood this concept, and didn’t argue.

If I played my cards right, I would finally be able to leave this godsforsaken kingdom, all in one fell swoop.

Thank fuck.

The princess nodded, mouth set into a grim line. “Fine. 75,000 it is. My betrothed and I are having lunch tomorrow. I managed to convince my family to let us go to a popular restaurant in the city. There will be chaperones and guards, but the guards will remain outside, and I will do my best to ensure that you are not hurt or captured if things go wrong. Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” I said, a slow smile crawling over my lips. “As discussed in my letter, I’ll need some information about you and your betrothed. Do you have it?”

The princess nodded and pulled a rolled-up piece of parchment out of her sleeve. “I’ve answered all the questions to the fullest extent that I can. I’m counting on you.” She held the parchment out towards my tree, but I made no move to grab it. She frowned.

“Throw it over,” I said. Her unbecoming scowl returned.

“I’m not going to reveal your identity. That would be counterintuitive,” she argued, affronted. She’d probably never been denied anything in her life, least of all from some plebeian.

Technically speaking, it didn’t matter if I came out or not. I was wearing a mask. But her frustration was really funny, and I was enjoying this sense of mystique around my identity, so I remained stubbornly behind the tree, idly scratching at the grooves in the bark with my nail, silent.

Seeing that I wasn’t coming out, the princess groaned and flung the scroll. It landed a few feet away from her, halfway between her and the tree.

“The time and place are on there,” she said sternly. “I’ve heard grand tales about the match breaker of Pansolum. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Oh, trust me,” I said with a cat-like grin, “you’ll be anything but.”