Ch. 6.1 (Orilis)

“Well, you certainly did a number on this one.” Veron said, eyeing the man crumpled at Liv’s feet. The poor soul was barely alive, blood pooling beneath him from multiple stab wounds in his chest and upper abdomen. 

“Wasn't much of a talker was he?” I asked, eyeing my poor rug with distaste, I wouldn't be able to get the stains out.

Liv shrugged, seeing Leon had temporarily switched off the part of her that felt compassion for others, it was one of the habits she picked up through the various levels of trauma she had experienced in the past. 

A survival instinct, I thought bitterly, knowing all too well what it was like to need to feel nothing in order to stay alive to see another day. 

The first time my brothers had made an attempt on my life was when I had just turned eleven, roughly after I had attacked the royal adviser's son. I had kept my head down in those two years but I suppose my brothers didn't forget the look on my face because I later found out that the man who had attempted to strangle me was sent by Zedian in an effort to end my life before I could ruin his.  

He really should have tried earlier, I thought savagely, I had already surpassed my tutor in swordsmanship. The chaos that was wrought from that one assassination targeting me was almost laughable.

The memory brought a small smile to my face before turning my attention to the questions swirling in my mind.  

What on earth was Leon even doing here? I hadn't been able to come up with a single logical explanation for why he would risk his literal neck for a chance to see Liv. Hell, was that even why he came here?  

How? Why? When? 

I pursed my lips and tried again to think of an answer to the questions that were burning at the center of this all.  

Why the hell was Leon here? He hasn't gone rogue or else our contacts would have known. A development like that would be impossible to miss. So what was he doing? If he isn't a rogue why was he here? 

I could think of no logical explanation for any of them. Slumping my shoulders in exhaustion and defeat I returned my gaze to the half dead man. 

“What did you learn?” I said, making my way slowly to the padded chair behind Liv, wincing slightly as I felt future bruises ache. 

Liv's eyes narrowed, absently reaching up to throw her braided hair over her shoulder as she eyed the man with disgust. 

“He doesn't know much,” her voice was hollow and void of any emotion, “he left the guild because Martin offered him and two others an obscene amount of money they couldn't refuse. Money he shouldn't have. I never made enough for that kind of coin. It doesn't make any sense.” 

I could tell her emotions were starting to kick back in a little bit  because of the way her voice went up slightly when she mentioned her fathers name. It was borderline painful for her to say out loud.

Generally speaking, the name of her father was taboo to those who knew the full truth of what had happened. Hence names like “drunk bastard,” and “father” were what normally came up in conversations mentioning, or involving him. 

“So, nothing useful then?” Veron said, limping to join me in the chair next to mine, his leg had been injured during the fight so he was struggling to walk. Knowing my friend, if he could stand he could. 

“For the most part, no. But he did mention that my...father, said something about how ‘the seventh prince took everything from me’ or at least something along those lines.” 

I frowned and Veron spoke, asking the question at the tip of my tongue.

“How did Martin know about Orilis? Didn’t you say Arivis keeps his trap shut about where you got off to out of some sort of twisted form of affection?” 

“He does. Or at least I thought he did.” I murmured, throwing a worried look at Liv. 

She already felt betrayed by Arivis but still cared for him. I was concerned she would feel betrayed all over again. 

Upon seeing the look on her face I silently cursed myself for being right, a mixture of raw pain and betrayal gleamed in her eyes.