A War Dawning Ch. 01

Wyrnn noted over weeks that, as was the case with most royalty, they were almost never left alone. Advisers, servants, family, friends, and lovers milled in and out throughout the day and well into the night, so much so that, once the individual was important enough, good times to strike were few and far between. It became a game of looking for patterns that suggested opportunities, and then of selecting the best one.

Wyrnn decided that time was now. The days were busy, but clear and consistent gaps revealed themselves over the march of weeks. After her maidens were finished dressing her for the day she was often left mostly alone to collect herself and prepare mentally for the day, with only a servant or two with her. Today she was one of the lucky ones to be in the room. She smoothed out the comforter on the massive canopy bed, wondering briefly exactly how many birds were plucked clean to make a blanket so thick.

Even as she wondered, she looked to the page in the room with the queen. She knew the queen was having her fun with the young man. Even if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she'd know from the furtive glances they gave one another and the fact that his eyes would dance along her thick, plush body and get visibly hard. He wasn't that good at hiding his desires, but that was almost to be expected with a young man time had just thrust into adulthood finding himself in a position to thrust into his queen.

"You look particularly rested today, Majesty." Wyrnn kept her tone carefully noncommittal.

Evaline smoothed the front of her gown before the mirror as her sturdy page paid particular attention to the back, finding little ways to touch here and there, ostensibly to help her, but they lingered in ways that would never be permissible publicly. Evaline, for her part, paid him no real mind, though the corners of her mouth did upturn slightly in the barest hint of a smile. "The night was frenetic for a time, but was most relaxed by the time sleep came." She stiffened and the young man pulled away to stand at attention. Though the stance wasn't military in bearing, it was clear that he understood that playtime was over.

"I'm glad you had a restful night, Majesty." Wyrnn kept her movements fluid as she finished smoothing the bed. Bending down to keep the sides of the quilt even and straighten the fringes left hand drifted to the point where frame approached the footboard and touched the long dagger that she'd placed there days before. Getting it inside was the difficult part. Once there, the most obvious place to hide it was in the one place that would never be intentionally searched.

Ordinarily any weapon would do and the palace was full of them even if there weren't a thousand ways to kill someone with a thousand ordinary objects. But this one was special, so Wyrnn had been told. If the cut didn't kill, the poison the blade was infused with would. It was what her employer wanted used if at all possible as an additional layer of protection against the unforeseen and she had been paid handsomely for the additional risk, so risk she did, and now use it she would.

She took the blade and carefully slid it between the sleeve of her dress and the cloth she'd wrapped to her forearm to keep the blade from touching her flesh. When she had finished placing it only a hint of the curved silver pommel was visible.

"You know what they say, Majesty," she began as she moved towards the queen, slowing her heart so that her mind didn't cloud and prepared her body to do what needed doing, "A hard day of work followed by a long night's rest is the key to a happy life."

Evaline's blue eyes were playfully amused. "Save that, as queen, the day's work rarely ends."

Her eyes widened at the display in the mirror as the scene played out behind her. Almost faster than she could see, like a snake's strike, Wyrnn's arm swung outward. A moment later, a thin trail of blood could be seen just before it began to run rivers over the page's throat.

Seconds of shock froze both him and Evaline in place. While her blood ran cold, his eyes went from shock, to fear, to anger and he lunged for her, his own thick hands wrapping around her throat attempting to crush the life from her with what life was left to him. Wyrnn was surprised by the strength he still possessed. Between his hands trying to crush her throat with such ferocity that her vision was already blurring at the edges and her ears were already ringing and his weight driving her backward she was already felt control of the situation slipping away.

This time she brought the dagger to his chest slipping it neatly between ribs and to his heart. One more look of shock crossed his face tinged with sadness as strength and life faded away as he fell to his knees to linger there before falling forward.

As he lingered on his knees, Evaline shook her fear and found her voice and used it with all the power she had, the shout rattling the window glass. "Guards!"

Fuck. In that moment she realized her calculation was in error. She should have killed the queen first. She knew that now, but she hesitated, believing that the young man might have hindered her strike or the escape that would have to follow. Wyrnn had hoped for the shock to have gripped for a second or two longer, but, alas, it was not to be.

But it would at least now get very interesting.

Wyrnn rushed two paces forward and grabbed the queen by the hair, pulling the carefully crafted do apart in a shower of pins. For an instant, the assassin was close enough to let her breath caress Evaline's cheek. "It's not personal...Majesty."

Something clicked in her mind through the fear. It was anger at the dead young man feet away. It was rage over this woman's arrogance to attack her in her own chambers. And there was no small part of her that simply wanted to live. Her muscles acted from their own memory as both hands came up to grip Wyrnn's forearm as tightly as she could, pushing it away from her body as she bent forward. Simultaneously, the heavy heel of her shoe came down on Wrynn's right foot. Wrynn cried out in as much shock as pain. As she stepped back, the queen's elbow struck her chin.

She should have expected it, but didn't. With anyone else she would have, but she could count on one hand the number of noble targets that knew how to do more than be shocked or beg and grovel and still have five fingers left uncounted. In a flash of frustration at herself as much as anything else, she drove the blade forward.

Evaline whimpered as she felt the blade find her flesh. Pain radiated outward setting nerves ablaze. She had a flash of memory that had come with touching a hot cook stove as a child, but this felt like every nerve at once had been lit by that fire. She stared ahead at the small portrait of her father that hung on the wall, that stern visage so meticulously crafted she had rejected a full-sized version simply because it looked as though he were standing there every moment of every day passing judgment on every day of her rule. She saw that he certainly didn't look favorably upon her today. He didn't any day, but today was the first time Evaline thought he had cause.

She hit the floor without ceremony. Her ears heard the sounds of fighting in the grunts of exertion and her body felt the floor give beneath her as weight shifted. Her blue eyes stung with the dryness of the air because she did not dare close them simply because she fought the growing urge to do so and the knowledge that they might not open again if she gave in.

She spoke to death in the privacy of her own mind. You may take me, but you will have to take me. I'm not rushing to your embrace.

Breathing now caused pain. More than half a breath and a pinching sensation from the wound would cut it short. She stared up at the ceiling willing that next half breath. And the next. And the one after that.

Her eyes fixed on the chandelier above, using it as an anchor for her mind and arguably her spirit. She didn't know how long she had made that point the center of the world. It seemed like forever, but the reality was that it was probably only a space of moments before the sight of she who was the queen's right hand loomed over her, her face a mask of bravery covering over concern.

Bae appraised her, her expression one of reassurance, but her eyes betrayed nothing. "My queen, the threat is gone and healers are on the way. You will be all right. Continue to breathe until they arrive."

Evaline felt her face cradled in those delicate, but deceptively strong hands, thumbs caressing her full cheeks in an attempt to soothe her. The catch in her breath cued a rasping reply that held some amusement despite circumstance. "Dare order me?"

Her voice was iron. "Yes, my queen."

A small cough brought with it a tinge of copper on her tongue before she forced a reply. "Very well then."

One more breath.

To Be Continued...