Page 75 of Kingdom of Crowns and Daggers

There is no way a lowly Lower dweller would know any of that, even an assassin, but it’s the only excuse I have. If they find out the truth, then they will never trust me again. I can kid myself and say that bothers me because I need them to trust me for this to work, but I know deep down it’s because I have begun to care for them.

“I’m an assassin. It’s my job to know what’s happening in the city,” I reply with a lazy shrug and quick smile, praying they don’t see through it or hear the pounding of my heart as the lie slips from my tongue.

“The scandal, yes, that was public knowledge.” Orion narrows his eyes. “Not that story about Jessamine and the ribbons though. That’s personal information.”

Joha’s eyes flicker, and I feel the tension in the room rise.

“Those festivals are very selective, for nobles only, and you would have been too young to masquerade as anyone else. I remember the party and the ribbon incident,” Joha tells me in a quiet but firm voice. “How did you know about that?”

I can see that he’s piecing it together bit by bit, and it is only a matter of time before he fully works out who I am. That will change everything.

“The king is right. This is knowledge known only by the houses.” Orion shifts his weight from foot to foot, his hand hovering over his sword at his hip. He doesn’t trust me, and the sharp pang that sends through my heart almost has me doubling over. “Who are you really, Alyx?”

Maybe it’s time for me to put my faith in them and explain my deepest secret. They might trust me more because of it and see me in a different light—or it could backfire and get me killed for treason—but it seems I don’t have much choice anymore.

Looking between them, I bite my lip as I try to make up my mind. They have both worked out that there is more to me than just being an assassin. If I try to lie now, this thing between us will be broken. I need them as much as they need me, so I take a deep breath and meet Joha’s gaze.

“I know because I was there.” I am a mess of excitement and fear as I speak. Keeping my identity hidden is the only thing that has kept me alive this long, and getting out of the habit of hiding it is going to be hard, yet I can finally be myself around them. I have to trust in them the way they have trusted in me so far. Maybe letting someone in won’t be too bad . . . . Maybe they can even help me.

“You want to know how I know so much about the nobles?” Taking another deep breath, I look from Orion to Joha, my expression solemn. “I used to be one.”

Chapter

Forty-Two

JOHA

Staring up at the high beams that make up the ceiling of my bedroom, I gaze out of the small window built into the roof. I can see the moon, which is exactly why I had my bed placed here: for nights like this when I cannot sleep. The moon is almost at its fullest, but not quite. At first glance, you might believe it full, but when you look closer, you can see that’s not the case.

That is exactly how I feel—on display to the world, looking to be in charge, but if you look closer, you can see the cracks. I know that I need to stop thinking of myself as a puppet and forge myself into the ruler that I want to be, but despite all of Alyx’s and Orion’s work, we still seem no closer to finding who is behind the attacks.

After the disaster of a day, it makes sense that I am unable to sleep. I very nearly lost my life and then found out that one of my biggest supporters within the nobles might be behind the plot to kill me. However, that’s not what is keeping me awake.

I have always known that there is treachery and scheming within the houses, and while I suspect Queen Mother’s involvement, she couldn’t manage this alone, meaning one of the families is behind it.

No, the turbulent, twisting thoughts chasing me from sleep are of the revelation that Alyx was born into a household of nobility. After she dropped that bombshell, she refused to tell us anything more of her past and simply told us we would speak tomorrow when she had a plan for the family. She didn’t disclose which family she was from, how she ended up training as an assassin, or why she broke off from her family in the first place. Nothing. No matter how many ways we asked, she stubbornly stayed silent.

Orion clearly wanted to grill her for more, but from the stubborn set of her jaw, I knew it was no good. There was never a single point where either of us didn’t believe her though, and I think that is a sign in its own right. I know Orion suspected there was more to her than she let on, and it seems he was right.

Sighing, I roll over onto my side and close my eyes, attempting to sleep once more.

However, as soon as my eyes shut, images of her fill my mind—in her dark stealth clothing, her court dresses, that skimpy dressing gown that hardly covers anything. Always her. My mind is consumed by her. My favourite memory of her is the one of her sleeping peacefully, no masks to hide behind, just Alyx.

Groaning, I try to force the images from my mind, but they are replaced by more questions. What would she have been like if she had grown up in her family as she was supposed to? She would have been a force to be reckoned with as a noblewoman. Instead, she has hidden her true identity since she was a child.

It must have taken a lot of trust for her to tell us even that snippet of information. Knowledge like that could be dangerous, and if it got back to her family, it could have disastrous consequences. My heart warms a little at this. She is a difficult woman to get to know, but trusting us with that is a huge step forward. Towards what, I am not sure.

Her knowledge of the nobility makes sense now and has probably been a factor in helping her survive this far. I cannot even imagine how difficult it was to give up everything she has ever known and turn into a killing machine, especially surviving in the Lowers. She did not tell us how old she was when this happened, but we know she was young.

As I lie in my bed, alone and aching with the need to rest, I cannot help but wonder what she would have looked like as a child, or what she was like when she was safe and protected.

This is my last thought before I fall into a deep sleep.

Tears run down the boy’s face as he stares at the boats in the dock. His well-made clothes are muddy and torn, and he is clearly in distress, yet no one stops to help him.

He’s had it with the constant scolding and reprimands from his father and tutors. There is so much to learn, and the pressure on his small shoulders is too much for him to handle. If only he could find the courage to run across the dock and climb onto one of the boats to be taken away. He does not care where he would go, only that he needs to get away.

Far away.

---