Chapter 2: A Mission

Ara made her way down the west wing and up the stairs that led to Count Thorn’s office. It was in the tallest tower and had a panoramic view of the grounds, a fitting place for a former spymaster who no longer had to hide in the shadows.

She almost knocked when she reached the door, but she held back and forced her hand to open the door. It was one of the many tests of will she had been honing for years.

The commands sent through the collars lost their strength after some time had passed, especially if whoever owned the matching controlling stone didn’t really mean or care about the commands. It was very particular with wording, too. Ara had learned that the hard way.

“Haven’t I told you to knock?” Count Thorn said, not looking up from his desk when she entered.

Not an explicit command. The last time he had told her to knock before entering had been a few months ago, and the pull to obey that specific order was getting weaker. Thankfully, he didn’t notice or care about it. When and if he commanded her directly again, she’d have to start all over.

“Yes, uncle?” she said, ignoring his question and closing the door behind her.

That was another point for Princess Lila. She was exempt from calling him uncle simply because he couldn’t force her to do so. It was one of the few small rebellious pleasures Princess Lila allowed herself, and she stuck to calling him Count Thorn. In retaliation, Ara thought he was adamant about it with her. Every time she slipped and called him Count Thorn, he repeated the command: “You will call me uncle. It hurts me when you address me so coldly.”

As if someone with a heart of ice could feel anything.

“Tonight, I have something easy for you. Lord Gallien has something I want. My little whisperers tell me he keeps it in his office, which is above the ballroom in his estate. It’s a map of the sewers beneath the city. No witnesses,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal. “You’ve been there, so you’ll remember the way.”

Yes, it had been only a few months ago that she had attended a ball in Gallien’s estate. Another point for Princess Lila. It was always Ara who had to attend events with Count Thorn. He said he wanted her close by for protection. But she knew he took her to balls and parties so she could be his eyes and ears.

While it felt good to be able to leave the castle without literally being dressed to kill, she hated being on display like the puppet that she was. A Hova’s Fae was a reflection of their master, and Count Thorn clearly enjoyed parading her around. She got the feeling everyone had an inkling she was not just his hostage, though she couldn’t prove it, as she wasn’t allowed to talk to any Hova in social events unless they spoke to her first.

And then there was the matter of running into other Fae, too. Most of them were there as their masters’ food source, and it came to the point of being a competition. Many of the Hova refused to drink blood from a fae that they didn’t own, so they brought along a posse of collared faes. Well dressed and accessorized dinner, each with their own flavor. It pained her to see her people reduced to walking refreshments for the Hova.

“Wouldn’t that be a problem?” she asked, making him pry his eyes away from what he was reading.

“How so?”

“He’s seen me. His staff and guards have seen me. If I get caught….”

“I said no witnesses.”

“But if someone recognizes me, they’ll easily trace me back to you.”

He sighed and paused before speaking.

“You can be so obtuse, sometimes,” he said, staring into her eyes.

Ah, the many layers of his webs. Of course. He didn’t care if she was seen. This was one of those three-pronged missions he was always talking about. He would be sending three messages through Ara.

One: that Gallien, with all his wealth and connections, was still vulnerable to attacks and surprises.

Two: There was nothing the merchant could do to stop Count Thorn from taking what he wanted when he wanted to.

Three: In the event she wasn’t seen, she’d sow the seeds of doubt as to who had ordered that map to be stolen. Which in turn, would lead to some petty feud between powerful merchants that benefited Count Thorn, one way or another.

“Good. I see that fae head of yours putting together the pieces.”

Ara must have looked surprised because he let out a chuckle.

“You know, for a spy, you’re really terrible at hiding your emotions,” he said. “I’ve always wished the collar would let me know what you’re thinking, but your expressions are usually enough.”

She was starting to get irritated. As if it wasn’t enough that she was physically bound to obey him, he flaunted his power over her mind as well. She knew it wasn’t true. She could be as expressionless as a mountain if she had to. Only he had that level of control over her, and it was because she truly did have very strong emotions about him.

Rage. Pure, seething fury that would only fizzle out when one of her many daggers was embedded into his heart.

“How long?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Maybe a dagger to the neck. Or one through his eye…

“Tonight, if possible. Stay in the city if you want to scout the area tonight before making your move. But if he moves that map… My whisperers know it’s there tonight. Tomorrow, no one knows. Your call.”

“Is that all?”

“On second thought, it’d be better if you come home by morning. We’re hosting a battalion that’s on its way to fight some rebel encampments, and I’d like you to do some listening while they’re here. There’ll be a ball for the high-ranking officers and all that. Now, go. I’m busy.”

Ara quickly turned and headed towards the door, almost shuddering with relief.

“Wait. Before you leave, ask Shandra to come. This blood’s gone cold,” he said, raising a half-filled cup of blood.

“Yes, uncle.”

With that, she closed the door behind her. Almost. She almost made it out without feeling the collar compelling her to obey.

Count Thorn was becoming sloppy with his missions. When he had just started sending her out, he had been very explicit about the proper wording of his commands. Now he simply stated what he wanted her to do, which meant she could openly interpret the way she had to carry out her tasks. He hadn’t said, “kill everyone who sees you,” which meant she could still do the job without inflicting any pain or any accidental casualties.

She still had to ask Shandra, his latest food source, to go to him. There was no getting out of that one.

Sliding the portrait that opened the door to the secret passageway, she headed to her secret room. That was where, almost seven years ago, Count Thorn had sent her on the path of blood and destruction.

She sometimes wondered what her life would be like if that afternoon had never happened. If she hadn’t split the guard’s nose after he made a pass at Princess Lila. If Count Thorn hadn’t seen what happened and gotten the idea to train her. If, if if. So many ifs.

But she knew better than to think of the past and all the would haves. Right now, she had a job to do.