one<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n An assassin, a prince, and a bard walk into a bar. And while this sounds like a bad joke or some old fable, this story is no fairytale. There is no such thing as living \u201chappily ever after.\u201d The assassin, the prince, and the bard will walk into the bar, and an empire will topple in their wake.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The assassin was the first to split away from her destiny. She wore trophies of her conquests around her shoulders: the cape of an old tyrant king; gold cuffs forged from the coins of a cruel merchant round her wrists; a blade won off the strongest knight in the kingdom at her waist. Her name was Thalia, but they called her Nemesis, the King-Killer, the Elk. They feared her, and for good reason: she fought armies and laughed as she did, white hair stained red, and yet the most foolish job of all was what undid her.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Well, as a matter of fact, not only has this chapter opened with a knock-knock joke about a bar, this story will begin in one as well. How thrilling it is, to live in a land where a crowded tavern is the prime location to hire the most dangerous assassin in the land!\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Thalia King-Killer, warrior, assassin, conqueror, was dreadfully, mind-numbingly bored.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Meetings in small towns were always the worst. None of the townspeople had anything to do but work the fields during the day and drink away their wages during the night, so business was always booming at the local taverns whenever she had a rendezvous. This bar was packed with people, mostly drunkards who shook their fists and slopped their drinks all over the tables or young men who sat around a table and slapped each other on the back for each shot they took. The little server girls who slipped in between the sweaty villagers and ducked under swinging arms only completed the unpleasant scene, like ants navigating their hill.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n She had tucked herself into a corner table to avoid the congestion, facing the door. The thick blue cape and hood shrouding her face put off most of the crowd from bothering her, and the few who remained shrunk away from the sword sheathed at her waist.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n She scrubbed at her eyes, then pressed at the bridge of her nose. Her ears rang, a shrill note on top of the already-unpleasant crowd noise\u2014her last target had managed to smack her in her left ear with a cupped hand, and she hadn\u2019t been able to hear properly out of it since. And by the\u00a0Gods above, if this employer didn\u2019t show up soon, she was going to leave this shithole and find a place whose economy wasn\u2019t based on slaughtering pigs.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Thalia reached into a side pocket and began to turn a gold coin between her fingers. Stamped with the likeness of the old Emperor, the gold was polished by her fingers and gashed all over.\u00a0She originally just enjoyed carving notches into his face, but she had developed a habit of rolling it over her knuckles in a simple sleight of hand.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The coin dropped to the table, and she sighed. It\u00a0<\/span>had<\/span><\/i>\u00a0been simple until she broke her ring finger falling out of a tree,\u00a0and then let it heal crooked. Another setback, another failure. Another, another.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n One of the serving girls, a slight thing with wide brown eyes, approached her table. \u201cCan I\u00a0getcha\u00a0anythin\u2019, miss?\u201d she asked, her Veil accent thick in her mouth. She sidled out of the way of an old man who reached to put an arm around her waist and retained the tray of drinks in her hand in such a smooth movement that Thalia was fairly impressed.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cNo, thank you,\u201d Thalia replied, but she rummaged around in the pouch across her chest for a moment and flicked the girl a silver piece. The server bobbed with a curtsey and a sharp smile,\u00a0then\u00a0slipped away.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The tavern door ground against the rotting wooden floor, then stuck. The top hinge was missing, so it sat crooked in its frame, trapped in the warped seams of the wood paneling. Someone on the other side kicked at it once, twice, until it gave way with a squealing cry.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n And\u2014oh, if this wasn\u2019t her client, Thalia would eat her boots. A scrawny old man stalked into the bar, thin white hair combed over a balding head, draped in a robe and jewels that must have weighed as much as he did. He had his chin raised absurdly high, looking down his nose at the drunken crowd ahead of him. His spectacles slipped down his hooked nose, and he pushed them back up with a\u00a0knobby\u00a0finger before he spotted her. Thalia had to hide a smile in the shadows of her hood when he marched over, his elbows and knees stuck out like a chicken.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He had a knight following behind him, almost certainly the one who had knocked the door in, and she straightened slightly. Not in alarm, not yet\u2014she was quite confident that she could take several knights of this one\u2019s build. But a knight meant royalty, which meant political targets, which meant either more money or more danger.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Thalia liked both.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n When the man\u2014a King\u2019s Hand, most likely, from the pins adorning his frock\u2014reached her table, she flicked her fingers towards the seat across from her in invitation. He did not sit, instead staring along his beak-like nose at her. Thalia\u2019s mouth ticked to the side.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cI would presume you are who I assume you to be?\u201d he asked haughtily. The melody of the waitress\u2019s accent was infinitely preferable than the harsh, grating tones of the elite.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019d presume correctly,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd you are\u2026?\u201d\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The Hand put a hand up and wagged a finger in her face. His jowls quivered as he shook his head in sync with the offending digit. She curled her lip. \u201cYou need not know my name, girl,\u201d he sneered. \u201cYou are here to do a job, nothing more.\u201d<\/span> \u201cCare to tell me what it is?\u201d she said. The old man had to lean in close just to hear her speak, but he startled as though taken aback by her gall.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell, quite the usual, I\u2019d expect,\u201d he squawked. He fished around in his pockets for a moment before pulling out a piece of paper and extending it to her. When she reached to take it, he took great care to avoid touching her skin in the transfer, as though the blood on her hands had somehow stuck on.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThe King of Ten will pay you in full upon completion of this\u2026 job,\u201d the Hand said distastefully. Vaguely, Thalia wondered how this man had earned his post. Wondered if he had ever killed anyone for it. \u201cYour usual rate, I hear. I trust you know him, and his honorable reputation?\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The King of Ten was just that: a king of ten baronetages, picked by the ten barons of their estates and supposedly the finest among them. It was the closest to democracy that this side of the mountains would ever get. Together, they ruled the southeast of the continent, but there were still a few pockets of land which evaded their rule.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Frankly, she had no idea what the King of Ten\u2019s reputation was like, but if he was hiring the Elk to kill someone, she doubted he was all that upstanding. Then again, Thalia had never put her stock in kings. She hummed noncommittally in answer.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell!\u201d the Hand huffed, like a grouchy old grandfather. His knight was eyeing the hilt of her sword with a certain look in his eye.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n She studied the letter for a moment. It carried the seal of the Arklay clan, which would make this man\u2026 she had never bothered to learn the details of the Ten aristocracy, but she could only assume he was called Hand Arklay. Nobility weren\u2019t exactly known for their creativity.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n It was, altogether, an underwhelming performance. She tilted her head to look up at him, allowing a wisp of white to escape her hood. His pallor began to match the tone of her hair.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWell?\u201d she challenged. \u201cYou need a letter just to tell me a name?\u201d\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Arklay began to stammer, looking backwards at the unruly crowd as though any of these drunken farmers would come to his aid. She rose to her feet, a good six inches above him. \u201cCome on,\u201d she said, leaning forward, tucking her chin near his ear so that he could hear her over the roaring crowd. \u201cSurely someone from a line as mighty as the Arklay family isn\u2019t afraid to speak a name out loud to a\u00a0<\/span>demon<\/span><\/i>\u00a0like me. What need have\u00a0<\/span>you,<\/span><\/i>\u00a0Hand, of a King-Killer?\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Page Break\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n two<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The dew of the cool evening air had hardened to frost by the time Thalia swept out of the tavern, and the grass crunched under her boots as she made her way towards the stables. She inhaled sharply, then blew her breath out, watching as the misty particles diffused into the night sky.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cGood riddance,\u201d she said aloud, but the letter burned in her pocket all the same.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n She had no rules about who hired her. Kings, merchants, people down on their luck\u2014as long as she was paid well, her sword was indiscriminate. But still\u2014<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cPrince Sam of Camina,\u201d she mused aloud, weighing the words on her tongue. \u201cCamina.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Thalia recalled what she knew about Camina, which was practically nothing. It was a small city-state, mostly composed of the city itself and the surrounding suburbs. Mountain runoff had carved a river all down the eastern side of the continent through to the sea, which made it a fairly bustling port town. It had a merchant king whose name Thalia did not know, and apparently a prince as well.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The tall grass gave way to gravel under her boots, and she pulled open a creaky door into the stables. The scent of hay and horse was a relief to the stench of the manure piles that she had been dodging on her way in.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHelp you, \u2018m?\u201d a timid voice said. There was a slim boy, no more than sixteen, standing in the shadows of the hayloft. At first glance, it occurred to her that he was just shy, but when he shuffled further into the light, she realized that his shoulders were crooked, leaving him bowed awkwardly to one side.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d she answered briefly. \u201cI stored my horse here a few hours ago.\u201d She tossed him a chip with the paddock number stamped onto it.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He squinted at it in the low torchlight, then shrugged. \u201cWith me, please.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n She followed. One of his legs dragged along the floor as he walked, dead weight behind him. There were several paths carved through the loose hay and dust on the ground, a record of his trips back and forth across the room.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n He reached a low crate on the ground with keys organized in different containers, and began an awkward shuffle to bend down and reach it. Thalia stepped around him. \u201cI got it.\u201d She bent and scooped up the key he pointed to, then handed it over.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThank\u2019ee,\u201d he said, but he squinted at her suspiciously, and the natural tilt of his head gave the appearance of close study. He stared into the shadows of her cloak right at her eyes.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n She stepped pointedly out of his way and gestured to the paddock. He sniffed loudly, limped past her. \u201cY\u2019haven\u2019t made the White Remark yet,\u201d he tossed over his shoulder.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhy should I?\u201d Thalia asked. \u201cYou dark?\u201d\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThey think so.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cHmm.\u201d Thalia tugged at the hood over her face. \u201cThey think I am too.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n The\u00a0stable hand\u00a0cast her a look over his slumped shoulder, then returned to jamming the key into the rusty lock. \u201cY\u2019visited Yarrenhale before, miss?\u201d\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cCan\u2019t say I have,\u201d she said dryly. \u201cSeems like this is the only place in this town that doesn\u2019t smell like pig shit.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n He barked out a startled laugh as he managed to release the deadlock and leaned his entire bodyweight into dragging the door open. \u201cY\u2019got that right, miss.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n Thalia hummed again. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cPotsey. But everyone calls me Topsey, \u2018cause I\u2019m rather easy to tip over.\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThat seems cruel,\u201d Thalia said offhandedly, but her attention was seized by the mare that Potsey led out of the stall. She shoved her soft, velvety nose into Thalia\u2019s shoulder, then into her belly, searching for treats. Thalia laughed. \u201cEasy, Bon,\u201d she warned, nudging the horse\u2019s head to the side. \u201cGreedy asshole.\u201d<\/span> \u201cShe\u2019s beautiful,\u201d Potsey said. \u201cLovely, too. No trouble when I rubbed \u2019er down.\u201d<\/span>
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