Chapter 3

"I'll let in on a little secret," I say, lowering my voice and glancing around for any potential listeners. Seeing none, I lean forward, the smith meeting me halfway.

"I don't usually share this information, but my real name is Amethyst Hope."

The smith throws his head back and gives out a hearty laughter. "Nonsense! That family's been dead for years."

"That's what they want you to think."

The smith grows serious for a moment, though a cocky smile plays on his lips. "And would you happen to have any proof? I just don't see how a traveler such as yourself could have ever belonged to such a rich and high name as the Hope family. Surely you're aware they were the king's personal lapdogs?"

"What kind of evidence are you looking for exactly?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. They may have thrown me out, but I don't really appreciate this man speaking ill of my name so effortlessly.

"Give me information only their blood would know," the man says, leaning back.

"And what do I get in return?" I ask.

"You want something out of this?" a sneer spreads across the man's lips.

"Of course. Such delicate information could never be handed out so carelessly," I reply coolly, looking into his deep brown eyes intensely.

His sneer turns into a smile once more. "Tell you what, if you're really one of the Hopes, I'll let you have this entire shop. I grew up in this place, and I've worked here my entire life. This shop and every weapon in it. Free of charge."

"It's not free," I point out.

"Are you one of the Hopes or are you just wasting my time?" the smith asks, growing impatient. "I have a business to run."

I sigh. "Very well. Amethyst Hope was the younger sister of Jordon Hope, daughter of Marcus and Nadine Hope. Her family was a group of assassins, and they were very good at what they did. Their cover as smiths was flawless, and due to their skill they were able to make their own weapons and ammo. At the feeble age of eight years Amethyst was cast out of her family due to her disinterest in continuing the family line. As a bloodline of heartless killers it did not affect her parents to throw out an eight year old girl and force her to fend for herself." I pause and glance back at the smith. "I'll be taking your shop now."

"Hope?" Lily asks, tugging my sleeve.

"What is it?" I ask, turning to face her.

"Where are we going to sleep tonight?"

I think for a moment. "I think we'll sleep at the inn tonight. I should have enough leftover money to do that."

Lily's appearance seems to have brought the smith out of his shock. He clears his throat. "My Lady, surely you do not wish to take my entire life's work from me?"

"Go on and play," I say to Lily. "Meet me at the inn at seven o' clock sharp. Understand?"

Lily nods and bounces off, humming happily to herself.

"And- and if you don't mind my prying, why would you let such a young girl go on her own?"

I turn back to the smith. "She's a smart girl, capable of taking care of herself. Do not be fooled by her appearance and innocent nature. She was raised by a professional assassin, after all."

"Right. Of course. About that-"

"I do not want your shop. As you pointed out before, I am a traveler. I am cursed to never settle in one place, and sadly the child is forced to share the same fate as me."

"Is she not your own?"

"Of course not. I ran into her one day three years after my exile and have taken care of her since then. Now," I say, a smile crossing my lips. "I would like some new weapons. Of course, my lineage stays a secret. If you choose to spread info of my whereabouts, I'll have no trouble hunting you down and gutting you like the pathetic bear I strangled a few days ago."

The smith swallows hard, a bead of sweat falling from his brow. "Of course, my Lady."

"Hurry, and don't use my title so lightly. I have places to be." I say, glaring.