Antea collapsed on her canopy bed, prepared to return to her rigid position as soon as she heard the maid’s pattering feet in the hallway. She longed for a new life, one without the strengthened façade, but time had taught her that fate was sealed and she had surrendered.

Crack.

Antea’s eyes snapped open. Someone was in her room.

Before she could react, a body much stronger than her own engrossed her in intense muscle, rough hands gripped her throat and began their relentless constricting. Antea did not panic, which caught the assassin off guard. She lay still allowing him to feel at ease with his victim. Once he began believing the Queen’s strength was only rumor, he loosened slightly to enjoy his kill.

A leg encircled his torso and the heel dug deep into his chest, the other leg tripped him from behind, and before he knew it, he was on the floor. Antea pulled her robe back around her thigh and pulled her dagger from underneath her pillow.

“Who are you?” She hissed, anger flaming from her eyes.

At first he was silent until he felt the cold dagger touch his bare throat. “Eros,” He replied with a trembling voice. “Please don’t kill me. I was only doing my job.”

Antea scoffed, “That’s what you all say, but you forget a moment ago your hands were on my throat.”

Antea felt a twinge of guilt as she delighted in the man’s transformation from deadly assassin to pleading child. She venomously dragged the blade across his shoulder, listening to him whimper. How many men were going to attempt this before they learned?

The doors burst open.

“Your Highness,” Her advisor, Orpheus, said, not at all shocked by the sight before him. He’d seen it too often.

“Take him to the dungeon. He will be executed publicly.” She commanded before turning to her maid. “Cala, help me dress.”

Rain leaked from the tattered thatch roof of a nearby tavern. Inside a rowdy group of traitors secretly discussed their horrific plot. Arguments flashed about like lightning trapped in a glass jar. Their idea was to overthrow the government; their plot was murder.

In the corner of the room a man cowered beneath his black hood, a shield for his intriguing eyes. Mud devoured his leather boots and protective cape that draped over his warrior shoulders armored with tight leather. He bit his cheeks hard, eavesdropping intently on the discussions around him, dependent on his intimidating appearance to keep nosey people away.

“We cannot trust an amateur,” One portly man said.

“Thank you for stating the obvious, Pior,” Another man replied sarcastically. He was a lean older man with a graying beard and seemed much wiser than the rest. He turned to the group of men straddling chairs who listened to their leader zealously as he sternly rebuked them. “Many of you do not understand how difficult this plot actually is. Security incessantly surrounds the Queen, and even if they can be fooled, Queen Antea has more brains than all of you put together. What’s more, she’s had years of training to protect herself. Without a veteran professional this plan is impossible.”

The man in the corner twitched slightly. The gray leader squinted at the phantom shape in the corner.

Leaving the traitors to more discussion, the leader walked over to the shape.

“Leave.” A raspy voice spat.

“Gage?”

The dark eyes peered over his cape in response.

“You look… like you’ve been… busy,” The gray man struggled, not wanting to speak the truth. Gage was a mess, disgustingly palled in mud and a rancid smell attacked the concerned friend. Getting no answer, the leader asked, “Have you had many jobs?”

“Many,” Gage said, curling his lip.

“Are you well-trained?”

“The best,” Gage replied, shifting to a rigid posture. It was obvious where the questioning would lead.

“Would you accept a well-paying job?”

“How much?”

“As much as you want.”

The boisterous discussions came to an abrupt end; each traitor began listening to the conversation.

“Who is the target?”

“The Queen.”

To Be Continued…

Jeremy Stephen: Thank you so much for the thoughts. I agree very much, and appreciate your time and concern. I hope this is a little better.