Page 6 of A Tale of Treachery

I watched him carefully as he pulled at his wild hair, now streaked with gray, and talked to himself, seemingly unaware that he wasn’t alone.

“Redmond, when was the last time you slept or ate a meal?”

He jumped at the sound of my voice, his blue eyes taking on an unhinged glaze as they danced around the room. “When did you get here?” he asked, surprised.

I chuckled. I’d been sitting in front of him since daybreak, but his focus never strayed while deep within a project, and while he might be brilliant, he was incompetent when it came to taking care of himself.

“Stop whatever you’re working on and have breakfast with me,” I implored, motioning to the untouched porridge on the table.

He gazed around the room, cluttered with messy bookshelves and worktables piled with scattered papers, and continued his erratic pacing.

“Oh, my gods, Redmond!” I threw my hands in the air. He was a child some days. “I don’t know what you’re working on, but I can tell you that you’re a wreck. When was the last time you slept? Ate? And gods, that smell. Is that you?” I leaned over the table to sniff him, the overwhelming body odor wafting through my nostrils.

He stopped pacing and pushed the twisted wire contraption he’d invented and named spectacles up along the bridge of his nose. “Well, those were some unnecessarily rude comments. I’m working on something important. Something that will save humanity.”

“Still searching for the key to everlasting life, I see. You should ask the fae. They seem to have that secret locked away within their bubble of a realm.” I snorted, wrinkling my nose. “You need rest, food, and a bath. We can discuss this all later…much later.”

Redmond groaned and collapsed into the dining chair. “I suppose I should eat a bit or sleep, but there’s too much to do.” He scrubbed a hand down his face and released a defeated noise.

“Somebody needs to eat and take a little nappy-dappy,” I crooned and walked around the table to hug him from behind, resting my chin on his shoulder.

“I’m the parental figure here.” He waved me away with a scoff.

I moved away to eat, bracing myself for my next offer. Redmond needed help, and my body needed sleep, but I couldn’t let him spiral out of control or neglect himself. “Make a list of what needs to be done, and I’ll do it. Just promise you’ll spend the day resting.”

He nodded, his eyes slowly glazing as we sat in comfortable silence. Once we’d finished eating, he wrote down a short list of errands and handed them over, then stumbled back to his quarters.

Scanning the list, I categorized its contents into items that could wait versus those that were more urgent. A curse slipped past my lips upon seeing the last but most important item on the list, underlined and written with bold lettering, notating its importance.

The dreadful task of delivering the king’s medicine.

I pulled my hood over my head with a sigh, immediately regretting my offer of help.

CHAPTER4

Idelayed the delivery as much as possible, but later that afternoon found myself climbing the winding staircase of the palace to deliver a jar of salve to King Drake.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I froze, dreading a face-to-face encounter with the man standing guard.

Outside of the wooden doors leading to the king’s chambers stood the king’s assassin.

Ryken.

He’d donned his standard dark cloak, which shielded any identifying features. His figure was clad in black leather from head to toe. Gloves of the same material covered his hands, not allowing even a glimpse of skin to show through. Something about him screamed power and terror, making my legs shake with the need to run.

It wasn’t just his brute form that left me feeling uneasy. It was his aura, a blend of silver and black that melded into gray, but not a shade of gray that spoke of desolation, sorrow, or bleakness of character. It was a silver color that was impossible to read.

Something like death incarnate.

The multiple weapons glinting along the straps of his body did nothing to ease my rapid heartbeat.

Ryken had been the king’s personal assassin for two years, and occasionally, I was forced to cross his path, no matter how hard I tried to avoid him.

And how I’d tried.

Over the years, we’d spoken briefly. He’d always been rude or broodingly silent, but worst of all, hateful, leaving me to wonder what I ever did to him. It seemed he enjoyed toying with me, setting my teeth on edge, like a cat with a mouse.

Often, when I found myself alone, I would peer up at the palace and see him lurking quietly in the windows, watching with a murderous aura. Whenever I walked through the halls at night, I could swear his dark presence hovered in the shadows. I had no idea what his obsession with me was, but I kept my head down and went out of my way to avoid him.

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