Page 1 of Nightingale

Prologue

She never would have thought that sneaking into the enormous Keep the first time would be considered easy, since it had taken weeks to plan, months to travel and days to get inside. Let alone a few more days to actually kill the Prince Regent of Carylim, Theseus Moordian. Her first royal murder, sanctioned by her mother. Now, she ventured on another to the same place, the same family, with another son as her target. They had plenty to kill and she savoured each death. Once more, Vrea Greenvass infiltrated Hawksmoor Keep.

Even though this trip was taking less time in the long run, Vrea would have traded tactics in a heartbeat.

Scaling a tall building was never fun.

She was currently a fourth of the way up, sticky glue on her hands used to climb up bricks and sink fingers into holds between the cracks. A rope was tied around her waist, a hook moving with each step she took before moving on the next, tugging on it to make sure it could hold her body weight. The last thing she desired was the long plummet down and to crack her skull open.

So far it had, but she hadn’t fallen yet, either.

Vrea had done this a few times before but nothing this towering. Everything previously had been sheerly for the sake of practice before taking on this challenge. Climbing up her home, Vasthold, was nothing to her since she’d grown up inthe halls, walked the walls and climbed every tree around the Hold since she could crawl. Her mother had insisted on starting lessons as soon as she could speak in coherent sentences, as she did for all her other siblings.

She had too many of those.

Alive and dead.

Vasthold was large, made with sandstone bricks that had been dried by the sun and held many flat arches she could climb and hoist herself up with. It was square in design, with the curtain wall that wrapped around the entire thing. The Hold itself held many windows that she could leverage herself up with, using the wrought iron bars as a jump point.

Hawksmoor on the other hand, was round in shape. Tall towers, pointed caps, windows without protruding bars to step on. She had nothing but the actual bricks themselves and the cracks between them to use as a way to climb up. There were no trellises or pots below the windows to stomp on, no excess stones to use or drain spouts, at least on this side, that she could lift herself up on. At least she’d prepared ahead thanks to the blueprints and the sticky substance that would help her cling to the side of the building like a spider in its silk web. Her elder brother, Eamin had pulled them both out for her ahead of her journey.

Her fingers were coated in black, her sweat beading down her forehead as she climbed up another foot. It was a slow process and one she couldn’t rush if she wanted to make it inside the Keep. Preferably alive. Eamin likely sent her on this quest, not because she was the best out of them all when it came to putting down Moordian dogs, but because he hoped she’d fall and split her head open on the jagged rocks below. Too bad for him, there were only a couple scattered out.

She didn’t know why her brother put down his shields and swords for once to offer her guidance on this mission but he’dpartially done it before when she’d come to kill Theseus, so a part of her believed that he held no misdoings between them for this one either. The other side of her knew her brother all too well and was already well-guarded with her senses of whatever ploy he might have concocted.

Vrea wrenched the hook out of the cracks and searched for a place high enough for her to use as an anchor. Three stones to the left, four tall. She grunted, lifted herself up and slammed the metal point into the cracks. The rocks complained but the hook stayed firm. She tugged on it twice to make sure before looking for footholds.

Her back was dripping with sweat, her face coated in a heavy layer, her underarms soaked. Thankfully she’d been smart and changed into her thinner linens to keep her as cool as possible, even under the winter sun. A bag was slung over her shoulder with poisons, a water skein, a cloth to keep her fingers wiped so that the tack would stick, an additional rope in case hers broke, as well as a tin of tar.

She’d dipped into it a couple times already to add more to her hands to make sure she would stay aloft. It was as close to flying as she could possibly get and heights didn’t bother her like other things did. Hounds, for example. Anything of the canine species for some reason unnerved her to the point where her fear almost paralysed her. If any of her siblings had found out, or her mother, then she would have been locked in a room with wild dogs until the fear was gone and it could no longer freeze her up.

Weaknesses meant it was easier to get killed.

Vrea climbed with the sun, until it was no longer visible in the sky, which was fine since she was so close to the marked window that Eamin had decided on before she’d left Niroula. For weeks, they plotted and planned the entire mission so that nothing could go wrong. Eamin provided the blueprints,the information about the target and chose the target. While Teminos, who was older than both, helped her plan how to kill him and when to leave. They brought the plan to their mother for approval before she packed and left for Carylim.

Nothing should go wrong.

The intended window was so close, a ledge outreaching toward her that she could prop herself up on as she picked the lock and slipped inside, hopefully unnoticed.

Six minutes later, she was on it, her lungs heaving from the exertion it took to get here. Vrea paused to chug half of her water before screwing the cap back on and trading the skein for her lockpicking set on her belt. She surveyed the lock to best decide which pieces to use, pulling them out and inserting them into the keyhole. She wriggled it around before adding the second piece, jerking upright to fill the top slot. Vrea wasn’t as good at this as her youngest brother Malik was, but their mother hardly let him leave the castle, let alone her side.

She struggled with it for a few seconds before the lock gave out and the pane swung open. She replaced her items before swinging her legs over the rail and silently lowering herself down so a thump wouldn’t be heard.

It was night, which had been specifically chosen to help her blend in. Inside, it meant that the torches were lit in the hall, casting her shadow down the corridor. Banners with the Moordian hawk sigil greeted her, the statues of soldiers in full armour as well. She crept behind trunks and chests, curtains and doors, searching for the double doors of the Golden Heir’s room.

For four days, she had debated with Teminos and Eamin on which sibling to kill. Teminos suggested the new regent, Brioc, or second in line, Regulus to keep knocking off heirs from the top. As if either of the warring Kingdoms chose their next sovereigns simply due to order of birth. Eamin threw theGolden Heir’s name in the ring as the highest contender for the throne. After what she’d seen from the fourth Prince, Castil, as he cut the head off an innocent man for a crime thatshecommitted, that heknewshe committed, Vrea called forhishead in return. It was enough of a statement that they knocked Brioc and Regulus off for another attempt.

Days after, and they were still arguing over who to kill with this one chance. It had gotten to enough of a fight that they brought it to the Queen to let her decide. Their mother took it under her wing for a couple hours and emerged from her chambers with a name.

Rian Moordian. The Golden Heir.

Only for the sake that he was most likely to take the throne after the King of Carylim handed it down. Vrea didn’t dare to question that judgement so she bowed her head and submitted to the Queen’s will. A day later she was packed, mounted up on a Niroulian Sandine, a horse that had been specifically bred to withstand the sandstorms of her country and headed for the border between Kingdoms.

One day she’d plunge her dagger through Castil’s heart and watch him bleed out. Just not today.

Vrea carefully trodded around the hallway until she came across the description of the doors that she’d been given, unsure how her brother had received such detailed information but they all had spies everywhere. Carylim included. She withdrew her lockpick again, eyeing the handle to see what would be needed.

“Hey!” A guard shouted as he turned the corner and spotted her. She abandoned her task at the door and quickly scanned the area for the fastest way to escape. She crawled through the window and aimed down the hall the guard was currently racing down, towards her.

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