Page 10 of Kingdom of Crowns and Daggers

If I am to save our lands and people, then it all depends on that female assassin—one who cannot be bought. I need someone who’s willing to get their hands dirty.

I need someone to look like a pawn while playing a queen.

First, I must find her, and surprisingly, assassins are not easy to find. I check the alley where we met, but there are only some stray animals fighting over bones. The bodies of the bandits are gone, which surprises me. Next, I move into Christ Church Market. It’s packed to the edges with stalls selling clothes, food, alcohol, and even weapons. Each stall is made of leftover wood, some from old ships or houses, with their wares hastily carved into the knotted timber. Some have dirty, stained tents above them to protect them from the elements, but many do not.

There is no reason or sense to the layout of the market, and they are crammed together with people screaming and fighting to get through. It’s a thriving place for pickpockets, many of which I see moving through the crowd and stealing from the oblivious. Tugging one of my coin pouches closer, I make sure to keep my eyes sharp as I manoeuvre through the activity. My eyes track everyone, searching for the brightness in the dullness.

Orion cuts a path behind us, protecting my back, for which I am eternally grateful.

“Sir, how about a genuine amethyst necklace for your woman?”

“Miss, how about a new shawl?”

“Take a look at our newest delivery of berries, straight from the field!”

The noise is overwhelming compared to the quiet serenity of the palace, where nobody raises their voice nor grabs anyone, and I have to force myself to relax and blend in. I cannot afford to cause a scene. I am here for a reason, but it simply seems like my reason is not here.

Where else could I find an assassin?

After searching for a while without luck, I find myself on the outskirts of Christ Church, wandering the streets aimlessly in hopes she will appear. Is this her hunting ground? I can feel Orion’s confusion and frustration as time passes. It won’t be long before I am found missing, and I must be back before then. At that moment, I watch two men slink down the side of a wooden house with the front door askew. They seem to be tailing a man dragging a wooden cart who’s talking to a soldier.

Perfect.

I hurry after them, and when they duck into an alley, I follow them. “Excuse me,” I call loudly.

They spin in shock. Their faces are filthy, covered in dirt that looks days old. Their clothes have many holes and hang from their skinny frames, and their rancid smell makes my nose twitch even from here. Their hair is shorn and uneven, but their eyes are sharp and intelligent. A disguise maybe?

“I am looking for a woman,” I say when they simply stare.

The one on the left chuckles. “You are in the wrong place for women. Go to the brothels near the river.”

I can’t contain my blush, and when my words come, I stammer. “Ah, not like that. She is an assassin. How do I find her?”

That gets their attention. Their eyes sharpen, and they stand taller, making me realise they were hunched. Are these assassins? It is hard to tell. Where Alyx looked put together and clean, they are the opposite.

“The Daggers? You do not find them; they will find you,” the one on the right replies ominously.

“Come, my—Joha.” Orion snarls. “These little rats know nothing.”

The men in question grin and scurry away like the rats Orion called them, and I peer up at his stern face in confusion. “Little rats?”

“It’s what they are called in the Lowers. They spy and report back, moving unseen and unwanted, but beware of their teeth.” His eyes drop to me, though they don’t stay on me for long, busy scanning the area. “Why are you seeking an assassin, Joha?” I hesitate, and he sighs. “Assassins are not to be played with. The Daggers?—”

“So you know them?”

“The Daggers are paid killers located in the Lowers. They practically run these streets. They venture into noble land when paid, and even though they are looked down upon, many pay for their services. Are you planning to do so?” he demands.

“In a way,” I admit, walking so we do not look odd.

“Joha,” he admonishes. “You?—”

“Stop,” I command before he lectures me. “I am not asking your opinion. You promised to trust me, so trust me.”

“I am worried about you, Joha,” he whispers as we walk side by side. “I have been since your father’s death when you took the throne.”

“You worry too much, old friend,” I reply with a coy smile, pretending the mention of my father’s death doesn’t cause my heart to kick painfully in my chest. “Now, where do you think we’ll find these Daggers?”

It is only then that I realise we have traversed down empty roads, and when the noise of a rock being kicked assaults my ears, we both turn. Standing behind us, feet away, are four men dressed in all black. One has a familiar cloak on, and I perk up, even as Orion places his arm before me and pulls his sword. “Stay behind me, Joha.”

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