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Please be brutally honest. I need it
Kenna had always enjoyed royal balls. The music, the people, the wine, and the food. She had only been to a few, but she always found comfort amongst the beautiful dresses and lilting guitars, the suffocating perfumes, and outlandish talks of beyond imaginable riches. She could get lost in the dizzy haze, in her false persona.
What she did not enjoy, however, was the way blood had stained her new white gown. It had cost nearly a fortune, and now it was completely ruined. And, of course, she did not find joy in the inconvenience of having to dispose of the dead body that lay at her feet.
Galan Deryian had been his name. He was a terrible man, spent most of his free time surrounded by half-naked courtesans, and left his wife with bruises all over her body. His child was no better off. Why Adeline found comfort in his presence, Kenna had no idea. Any money he earned was wasted in dingy taverns scattered along the strip. Addictions had ruled his life and his built-up anger had boiled and tended to overflow often, leaving anyone in his wake cowering.
The world would be better without him.
“Just a little further,” Kenna grunted as she dragged his bloodied and now dirtied body to the bank of the Western Ocean.
She rolled him down into the waters and nudged his side with her foot until he began drifting out to sea.
She waited. A few moments passed before his body was dragged underneath the dark waves by nymphs that rarely dared to show themselves on Ecran shores. But Kenna knew they were there. They had never left, though others like them had. For some reason, Sequana’s children had stayed. Haunting the depths of the Western Ocean.
Kenna had baited Galan into following her out of the ball. Then to the gardens, then out of the palace gates, and into a secluded part of the forest, where no one could hear his screams as she stabbed him once in the neck, twice in the gut, and finally plunged the dagger into his heart. She had let him bleed out on the forest floor.
The way he had groped her as they had left the palace left little room for mercy in Kenna’s heart. The way his eyes had roved over her body as if undressing her bit by bit, had left her shuddering, and in a cool, murderous rage.
No, she would not mourn this kill. She would savor the look on his face as the cool light in his eyes slowly dimmed, savor the way his crude hands had stilled, his eyes had turned from her. She had debated carving them out, debated letting him suffer longer. But she had needed to be quick. How good it would have felt, though. To carve out his eyes, maybe hack off his hand. It would have been torture to let him live that way. She wished Verena would give her more room for creativity in these assassinations.
Kenna said a silent thank you to Sequana, goddess of the sea, and to her children who had mercilessly dragged Galan’s body into the depths.
“Your gown is dirtied.” Kenna nearly jumped out of her skin. She whipped around, dagger poised to strike. Dimitri gave her a crooked grin. “You weren’t planning on feeding me to the nymphs next, were you?” She lowered the weapon.
“Next time, I will just strike.” Kenna glowered. “How many times have I told you not to come up behind me like that?”
“Forgive me," Dimitri said and stuck out his lip in a rather sorry attempt at a pout. “I forgot.” Kenna rolled her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” Was all she asked. Kenna lifted her gown and kneeled in front of the water, letting the coarse sand scrape her legs. She watched with satisfaction as the waves cleansed her dagger and Galan’s blood flowed in a crimson stream, illuminated from the moonlight that reflected itself off the clear waters, untroubled despite the blood now coursing through them. Large cliffs rose above the small opening where Kenna now kneeled, shadowing the cove from view. She had stumbled upon the opening a few years ago, by mistake, and it had quickly become her favorite spot in Velaris. The sea nymphs dominated this spot. She had only seen one once. Almost all children of magic had fled from these lands, but sea nymphs had stayed.
Kenna had been perched on the cove for hours, waiting. To see one, to just catch a glimpse.
But what she had seen was not what she had expected. The woman that had emerged from the depths had clouded, milky grey eyes. Her hair had been jet black, her skin pale, and her tale a deep green. Her hair had hung over her breasts, and a crown made of seaweed and some breed of underwater flower had adorned her head. The nymph had swum as close to the cove as she had dared, and had left Kenna a crown twin to hers, but with shining white pearls intricately braided into it. She still had it, safely tucked away at the keep.
The keep, where Dimitri should have been.
“I had hoped to catch you before you left.” Kenna glanced at his suit, clean and new. He didn’t dare dirty it by kneeling beside her. “I don’t suppose you will be going back?” Kenna looked to her dress, the one she had loved so much that she simply had to purchase. Verena had warned against wearing white, but Kenna chose to ignore her. As she often did. Usually, she wasn’t so messy, but the anger that had built inside her from those long minutes on the walk to the forest had made her reckless with her killing. Indeed, the bottom of her gown was now stained crimson and decorated with sand and mud. Her hands were to no greater appeal.
“Absolutely not.”
“Not even for one last dance?”
Kenna rose and scoweled at him. “Try your luck next time.”
“May I at least escort you home?" Dimitri asked, then fell into a deep bow, a mockery of the royalty that pranced around the palace. “My lady.” He held out a gloved hand.
Kenna knew the real reason Dimitri had showed was most likely because she had taken far too long and Verena had ordered him to find her. That had been the plan, anyway. If she was gone for longer than five hours, Dimitri was to come to the palace, and if she was not anywhere to be found outside the gates, then he was to find a way inside the palace and get her the hell out. A precaution in case any of Adeline’s court came to the realization that Kenna was not supposed to be there.
It was merely too easy to get lost in a place where the harsh realities of their world ceased to exist. She had only been outside of the palace for a little over an hour. How easy it was to lose time when no one had any reason to keep track of it.
She would be endlessly annoyed with Verena for sending Dimitri after her, but what was the harm in pretending for a while longer?
She gave a wicked grin and said in a terribly offensive mockery of the royals accent, “I would be honored.” Dimitri fought off a smile as Kenna gently placed her own, bare hand into his awaiting, gloved palm, and let him lead her out of the cove and through the woods.
They took empty, abandoned streets to the Keep. Kenna’s dress was too dirtied not to raise suspicions, and with the festivities taking place in the palace, Adeline’s Royal Guard was undoubtedly prowling along the more busy streets and neighborhoods.
The night air was humid and wrapped itself around Kenna, sticking to her skin and infiltrating her senses. She had the faint sense of smoke clinging to the humidity as well, which only became stronger as they passed through the narrow ally ways that would lead them back to the Keep. The smell of smoke mixed with the dense stench of human waste and rotted food, possibly rotted bodies if she wanted to let her mind venture that far. Kenna had to fight down the bile that rose in her throat. Fight down those endless pastries she had stuffed into her mouth, and now regretted every bite she had taken.
“What I don’t understand,” Dimitri began as they passed through a particularly narrow ally, most likely reading the disgust and queasiness that was written all over Kenna’s face and eager to distract her from the stench so she didn’t puke all over his suit. “Is why you get put on the fun tasks and I end up stuck with the boring ones.”
“I wasn’t aware murdering sick bastards was fun for you,” Kenna said, swallowing hard against the stench. She tried not to breathe too deeply. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Well, I was more talking about the royal parties, but murdering sick bastards could be fun as well.”
“The royal parties get boring after the third visit,” Kenna lied. In all honesty, as much as she hated Adeline and her court of snakes and idiots and sick bastards, she would never tire of the royal festivities. Maybe that was a terrible thing to relish in, considering who Kenna worked for, the empire she had been ployed to dismantle, but it was the truth. She could never tire of listening to women so out of touch with the world that they truly believed passing out a few meals to the poor now and then could solve all the problems that plagued this country. Could never tire of the handsome men who would ask her to dance, and the beautiful women that stood elegantly, who stared then shyly looked away when she caught their eye. The few brave ones who risked judgment and would ask her to dance. The endless food and drinks, the sweet, soft laughter, the gorgeous gowns, and tailored suits, everyone primmed and bathed and well-kept. It was living a fantasy for a night. An escape.
Until she had to snap back to reality and accomplish what she had been sent there to do. That’s when she would wonder about what could have been. Who she may have become had she never met Verena that fateful night at Addlers Inn. Would she have remained some poor girl begging on the streets, or would she have somehow found a way into those royal parties?
Something told her she still would have found a way to end up here, with Dimitri, wandering through the poorest streets in the city in a ball gown stained with another man’s blood. It was only logical, she supposed.
They made a left and the smells of human waste and rotting bodies were replaced by the smell of fresh pies and chocolate that wafted up from open doors and windows and were carried on the light breeze. The sound of music rang through the streets, a different band on every corner. Even in the night, this section of Velaris bustled. But this was a different side of the city. A so-called safe zone. Or it would be until the royal guard eventually found out about the criminals who inhabited this place and raided it. But those who were not taken by the Guard would only move on to inhabit another section of the city.
The ones who lived here referred to the small, town-like place as Angel’s Cove. Outsiders called it the City of Sin. Either was fitting. They kept the place lively and clean to stay under the radar of the palace. To unknowing citizens, it looked like any other upper-class neighborhood. To anyone else, it was a place of all things forbidden. Thieves, assassins, spies, rebels, Seldra Fae, witches, and those who simply found comfort amongst the wicked all dwelled amongst each other. Certainly, there were more of such people spread throughout Velaris, but a majority of all things hunted lived in Angel’s Cove.
So no one gave Kenna any questioning looks as she roamed the street openly, bloodied and dirty. A few even shot her a quick smile, and she grinned back. This place was home, for her. It was the only peace she had ever known in her time spent in Velaris. For others, Angel’s Cove was just another spot to dwell until it became overrun by soldiers, but for as long as Kenna had lived here, Angel’s Cove had stayed. It was possibly the one thing Kenna could count on to stay the same.
“Would you like to get something to eat?” Dimitri asked as Kenna’s gaze began to drift towards the open bakery and restaurant doors that lined either side of the street. Her stomach growled, despite the sweets she had heavily indulged herself in earlier.
“Please.” Dimitri flashed a grin and led her into an open bakery. It was half-full, not surprisingly. Angel’s Cove was usually at its liveliest during the night, as that was when most of its inhabitants began their work.
The aromas of fresh bread, cupcakes, and pies overwhelmed Kenna’s senses as she breathed in deep. How wonderful this place was.
Deanna, a shorter, older, and rounder woman stopped by their table, a smile already lighting up her wrinkled face at the sight of two familiar costumers. Her greyed hair was pulled into a tight knot on top of her head, no strand left untucked.
“Kenna,” She sighed, “Why, don’t you look lovely tonight.” Kenna laughed as Deanna’s eyes flared with awe at the sight of the young assassin.
“If you look past all the blood.” Deanna waved off her comment.
“Bring that dress by tomorrow. I’ll have it looking brand new.” Deanna was a human woman with a normal job, one of the few that chose to live amongst the rabble, and a lively one at that. She was always smiling, always looking for an excuse to stuff you with more food than you could eat. She claimed to have chosen to live in Angel's Cove because "even the assassins and rebels need to eat before tearing down an empire."
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all, darling. Let me tell you, my children’s clothes look worse than that nearly every time I go to wash them. I will never understand the joys of playing in the mud.” She turned to look at Dimitri, who had sat across from Kenna. “Maybe you understand. You’re a boy.”
“Ah, yes, the wonders of mud. There is just so much to it, I can’t even begin to explain.” Deanna snorted.
“Where did you come from tonight, young lady?” She asked, her attention turned back to Kenna, who only shook her head.
“Have I ever been able to tell you?” Deanna waved her off again.
“Well, I’ll take a wild guess and say you’re coming back from the ball up at the palace.” She shook her head. “I went to one, once, when I was little.”
“Really?” Deanna nodded.
“Of course, that wasn't during Adeline’s rule. It was different time then, with her father in charge.” She sighed as if in remembrance of how the world had been, how it would never be again under Adeline’s rule. A world Kenna had never known, a world Dimitri had known only briefly.
“I cannot tell you that you’re right,” Kenna grinned, “but I will not say you’re wrong either.”
“I knew from that dress of yours.” Deanna clicked her tongue. “Did you see all that smoke on your way back?” Kenna nodded. She hadn’t been able to pinpoint where it had come from, but the smell of it had nearly choked her.
“Do you know where the fire is?” Deanna nodded.
“Addlers Inn. A young boy came in, coughing away, a few minutes ago. He only asked for water.” Kenna paled, and looked to Dimitri. His expression was a mirror of what she assumed her own face looked like. “Is something the matter?”
Tanith, she had half a thought, Tanith is in Addlers Inn. Verena had sent her there, to go over a few of the copies of books they had. Books about the Seldra and the Fae, books of the witches and the wyverns and the Little Folk and the Markings. The books that were the last copies to exist within Ecra, all others burned.
As these were probably burning. As Tanith might be burning.
Kenna jumped to her feet and picked up her skirts, holding them above her knees as she took off in a sprint down the street, nearly knocking into a small child and an older man, but she did not slow, did not murmur an apology.
This had to have been purposeful. Adeline had to know. Know what exactly, that was a larger question Kenna would think about later. Now she just had to get those books out.
She took a sharp left, then another, then a right, until the smoke was so thick she could barely choke down a breath, then halted.
Kenna let her skirts drop as her arms went slack at her sides as she beheld the burning Inn.
There was no way to get in, flames had utterly engulfed the top floors and quickly snaked their way to the bottom. Purposeful, this had been on purpose. It had been a statement. If Kenna tried to get in, she would not make it back out.
She stood in a cold, useless, shock as the rebel stronghold burned.
