Schemes

In the dimly lit chamber, a figure paced back and forth, their face obscured by the hood of a dark cloak. The air was thick with tension, the weight of their failed plot hanging heavily in the room. A second figure, less concealed but equally anxious, watched the pacing figure with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

"Master, I don't like this. The plan did not go as we foreseen," the second figure said, their voice trembling slightly. "The woman is still alive, and the king is quite upset at this endeavor. Assassins entering his quarters of living is unheard of. It's only a matter of time before they start rooting out the main culprits. This situation will most likely lead to your incarceration."

The Master paused, the faint light catching a glint of something hard and cold in their eyes. "Do you have a plan to get us out of this situation, Master? Because if not, we must be the first ones to escape. We must take your assets to a merchant to procure enough money to survive outside of the Kingdom of Geyser."

The Master finally spoke, their voice low and measured. "Calm yourself. Panic will only hasten our downfall. We underestimated the princess and her protectors, but all is not lost."

The subordinate took a deep breath, trying to steady their nerves. "What should we do, then? The assassin is in the dungeon, most likely being interrogated as we speak. If they get information—"

"We need to act swiftly," the Master interrupted, their mind already working through the possibilities. "We can either escape and regroup or ensure that no information reaches the king."

"How do we ensure that?" the subordinate asked, a note of desperation in their voice.

The Master moved closer, their eyes narrowing with resolve. "We procure another assassin to eliminate the one in the dungeon. This new assassin must understand that if they are caught, they must not betray us. They must be prepared to return to the void."

The subordinate nodded, though their hands shook slightly. "I will arrange it immediately. But what if this second attempt fails?"

"Then we will have to be prepared to disappear," the Master replied coldly. "Take the most valuable assets and be ready to leave at a moment's notice. But for now, focus on silencing the first assassin. The less they know, the better."

The subordinate bowed quickly and hurried out of the chamber, leaving the Master alone with their thoughts. The room was silent save for the faint crackling of the hearth. The Master stared into the flames, their mind racing through contingencies and escape routes.

Failure was not an option. Too much was at stake, and too many pieces had been set in motion. They could not allow a single misstep to unravel their plans. The princess had proven to be more resilient than anticipated, but this was just a minor setback.

The Master moved to a hidden compartment in the wall, retrieving a small, intricately carved box. Inside were various documents, maps, and a significant amount of gold. They began to sort through the items, preparing for any eventuality.

As they worked, a grim smile formed on their lips. The game was far from over. The next move had to be decisive, precise. The stakes were high, but so were the potential rewards.

"Let them think they have the upper hand," the Master muttered to themselves. "We will be ready."

The firelight flickered, casting long shadows on the walls. In the quiet of the chamber, the Master's resolve hardened. They would not be undone by one failed attempt. The game of power and intrigue was just beginning, and they intended to win.

"Dang it, how did I end up with such a job?" the assassin muttered under his breath. He paused for a moment on the rooftop, his eyes fixed on the castle below. "Hopefully, it isn't as hard to infiltrate as it will be to leave the premises."

He thought of the previous assassin, who had failed in his mission and ended up captured. "Only if he had returned to the void like he was supposed to," the assassin mused. "Well, whatever. A job's a job, and this one must be done perfectly and without prejudice."

The assassin moved swiftly, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, his dark clothing blending seamlessly with the night. The castle walls loomed closer, and he used his acrobatic skills to glide past the guards, silent as a shadow.

He landed lightly in the castle garden, his senses heightened. The garden was a serene place, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. As he moved stealthily through the foliage, he saw her: the princess, Ariezah. Her black hair gleamed under the moonlight, and her emerald green eyes sparkled with an unspoken depth. She was mumbling to herself, lost in her thoughts.

The assassin's hand instinctively moved to his concealed blade. It would be easy to take her out now, she was alone and seemingly unguarded. But he knew better. It was most likely a trap. The princess was bait, a distraction from his true objective.

With a silent nod to himself, he refocused on his mission. He had to find the other assassin, the one who had failed and was now locked in the dungeons. If the captive assassin revealed any information under interrogation, it would compromise everything.

The assassin moved with purpose, slipping through the shadows of the garden and into the castle through a side entrance. He knew the layout well; he had studied the plans meticulously. The dungeons were in the lower levels, guarded but not impenetrable.

He crept through the corridors, avoiding the patrols with practiced ease. The castle was quiet, most of its inhabitants asleep, oblivious to the danger lurking within their walls. As he approached the dungeon entrance, he paused to assess the situation. Two guards stood watch, their post unwavering.

"Timing is everything," he reminded himself. Waiting for the perfect moment, he watched as one guard shifted slightly, his attention momentarily distracted. In a blur of motion, the assassin struck. He incapacitated the first guard with a swift blow to the neck, rendering him unconscious before he could make a sound. The second guard barely had time to react before a well-placed pressure point sent him into a deep, silent sleep.

With the guards neutralized, the assassin slipped into the dungeon. The air was cold and damp, the stone walls echoing with the faint sounds of prisoners in their cells. He moved quickly, searching for the captured assassin. As he rounded a corner, he saw him: a shadowy figure slumped against the wall of a cell.

The assassin approached the cell door and picked the lock with expert precision. The door swung open with a creak, and he stepped inside. The captive assassin looked up, recognition dawning in his eyes.

"You..." he whispered, his voice weak from days of imprisonment.

"Yes, me," the assassin replied coldly. "I'm here to clean up your mess."

The captive assassin struggled to sit up, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and fear. "I didn't tell them anything," he said urgently. "They tried to break me, but I held out."

The assassin nodded, but his expression remained grim. "It doesn't matter. They can't know you were ever here."

Realization dawned on the captive assassin, and he closed his eyes, accepting his fate. "Just make it quick."

With a swift, precise motion, the assassin ended the other man's life. He caught the lifeless body before it hit the ground, lowering it gently to avoid making noise. He took a moment to ensure the scene looked as though the prisoner had succumbed to his injuries, then slipped out of the cell, locking it behind him.

As he made his way back through the castle, the assassin felt a strange mix of emotions. This job had been particularly grim, even by his standards. But it was necessary. Loose ends had to be tied up, and his mission was clear.

He exited the castle the same way he had entered, moving silently and swiftly through the garden. The princess was no longer there, and he felt a pang of relief. He hadn't wanted to test his resolve against her innocence.

Once he was back in the shadows of the city, he allowed himself a moment to breathe. The task was done, and the danger had been averted for now. But he knew this was only the beginning. The power struggles within the court were far from over, and he would need to stay vigilant.

As he melted back into the night, the assassin's thoughts turned to his next move. The game was far from over, and he intended to stay one step ahead.

The assassin jumped from the shadows of the building into the darkened alley below. He moved with fluid grace, silent and unseen. Reaching the middle of the alley, he found the manhole cover he was looking for and lifted it effortlessly. He descended into the sewers, the heavy cover sliding back into place with barely a sound.

The sewers were dank and foul-smelling, but the assassin navigated them with practiced ease. After a few minutes of walking, he reached a section of the wall that looked no different from the rest. He pressed a particular brick, activating a hidden mechanism. A section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow passage.

He slipped through the opening, which closed silently behind him. At the end of the passage was a ladder leading upwards. The assassin climbed swiftly, reaching a latch at the top. He pushed it open, emerging into a dimly lit room.

His client awaited him, seated at a desk cluttered with papers and ledgers. The client looked up, their face partially obscured by the shadows.

"I finished the job perfectly," the assassin said, his voice low and calm. "They'll find the other assassin has succumbed to his wounds from their intense interrogation. He claimed to have told them nothing, but we can never be truly sure."

The client leaned back in their chair, steepling their fingers. "Excellent. The situation was delicate, and your swift action has helped contain it."

"Now, if you would pay me," the assassin continued. "This job shall be completed and cleared. Of course, if you have any other requests, you may talk to the Assassin's Guild."

The client nodded, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a small, heavy pouch. They tossed it to the assassin, who caught it deftly. The clink of coins was unmistakable.

"You've done well," the client said. "But we may indeed have further need of your services. There are still those within the court who oppose our plans."

The assassin pocketed the pouch, his expression unreadable. "I'll be ready. Just send word through the usual channels."

The client stood, stepping into the light for the first time. Their face was sharp and calculating, eyes gleaming with a dangerous intelligence. "Remember, discretion is key. No one must suspect our involvement."

The assassin nodded. "Understood."

With that, he turned and exited the room, retracing his steps through the secret passage and back into the sewers. He moved swiftly, ensuring he left no trace of his presence.

As he emerged back into the alley and replaced the manhole cover, he allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. The job was done, and he had been paid. But he knew this was just one part of a larger game, a game that was far from over.

He melted back into the shadows of the city, ready for whatever came next. The power struggles within the court were intensifying, and he intended to remain a key player. As long as there were those willing to pay for his skills, he would continue to navigate the treacherous waters of intrigue and deception, always one step ahead.

Prince Oliver paced his chambers, his mind racing with thoughts of the failed interrogation. The knock on his door came as no surprise, and he barely acknowledged the guard who entered.

"Prince Oliver, we have bad news," the guard began, his voice hesitant. "The interrogation must have been too severe, and the assassin has sadly passed. We were not able to get any information out of him. There seemed to be no foul play. The only thing I can think of is that he couldn't handle it. We are truly sorry for this inconvenience."

Oliver stopped pacing and turned to face the guard, his expression hard. "So you came to tell me that you failed at something you're supposed to be actually good at? And now you ask for forgiveness? Did my father tell you about this situation? How shall we proceed?"

The guard swallowed hard. "His Majesty has ordered us to increase the guards in the castle, so if any more assassins attempt to enter, we will be ready for such situations."

Oliver's eyes narrowed. "And what of the Princess? We can't just allow our guests to be harmed. It will look bad on us."

"In the case of the Princess, your father has deemed it unnecessary to procure any more guards than she currently has, sir."

Oliver's anger flared. "Did you just say that? She's my fiancée. I am to wed her next year. She is staying with us so we can get along better. Are you telling me my father does not care for her safety? What does my mother say about this?"

"The Queen supported the King's orders," the guard replied, struggling to maintain his composure. "She believes it is her duty to look out for the rest of the royal family. Though the Princess is your fiancée, you are the next king, and the Queen knows this. You are our future. You must come first."

Oliver clenched his fists, his frustration palpable. "Send a message to my father. I request an audience with him. I will speak to him face-to-face. This cannot stand."

The guard bowed quickly and left the room to carry out the Prince's orders. Oliver resumed his pacing, his mind working through the implications of the recent events. He couldn't help but feel a growing sense of urgency to protect Ariezah. She had already suffered enough trauma from the assassination attempt, and he couldn't bear the thought of another threat looming over her.

A short while later, another knock came at his door. This time, it was a different guard, one with a more confident demeanor. "Your Highness, the King will see you now."

Oliver nodded and followed the guard through the winding corridors of the castle. The opulent surroundings did little to soothe his nerves. The recent events had shaken him deeply, and he was determined to ensure Ariezah's safety, no matter what it took.

As he entered the King's chambers, he saw his father seated at a large, ornate desk. King Rozier looked up from his papers, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild annoyance.

"Oliver, what is so urgent that you demand an audience at this hour?" the King asked, his tone clipped.

"Father," Oliver began, struggling to keep his voice steady, "we cannot ignore the safety of Princess Ariezah. She is my fiancée and will soon be part of this family. The recent assassination attempt shows that she is not safe here, and I cannot accept that you refuse to assign her additional guards."

King Rozier sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Oliver, we have already taken measures to increase security within the castle. We cannot allocate all our resources to one individual, even if she is to be your wife."

Oliver stepped forward, his resolve unwavering. "It is not just about resources, Father. It is about the message we send. If we cannot protect those closest to us, what does that say to our allies and enemies alike? Ariezah deserves to feel safe in her new home."

The King studied his son for a moment, his expression softening slightly. "You speak with passion, Oliver. I see that you care deeply for the Princess. But we must balance our priorities. The safety of the entire kingdom must come first."

"Then let me take on the responsibility," Oliver countered. "I will personally ensure her safety. Assign me the best guards, and I will oversee their protection detail."

King Rozier raised an eyebrow. "You are willing to take on this burden yourself?"

"Yes," Oliver replied without hesitation. "For Ariezah's sake and for the sake of our future together."

The King nodded slowly, a hint of approval in his eyes. "Very well. You may have the guards you request. But remember, Oliver, this is a significant responsibility. Do not take it lightly."

"I won't, Father," Oliver said firmly. "Thank you."

As he left the King's chambers, Oliver felt a renewed sense of purpose. He would do whatever it took to protect Ariezah and ensure her safety. The game of power and intrigue was far from over, but he was determined to keep his future bride safe from any harm that might come their way.