As always, father had stuck me with clean up duty. Since he wanted this little "interrogation" to stay private, I had to carry the girl all the way to her room. Not that she was especially heavy, but still, I got blood over all my clothes. I couldn't shake the uncomfortable chill that had clung to my skin ever since I walked into the room and stabbed her in the thigh. Of course I hadn't wanted to do it, but whenever I was near that bastard I couldn't help the sense of anger that seemed to cloud my vision. I must have jostled her a little too much because she let out a soft moan. I checked to make sure she was still knocked out then walked faster to her cell. On my way out I had grabbed the next to useless roll of bandages. I didn't know much about taking care of wounds but this was all she would be getting.

I tried to make sure she didn't drip blood onto the floor as I hurried to her prison room so nobody would follow us. I was about 98% sure that a good amount of the guards knew what went on in the sound proof room, but my father still pretended like it was a secret. After what felt like forever I finally arrived at the large metal door. I fumbled with the keys to unlock it and slid in quietly. I kicked it shut behind me and- as gently as I could- dropped her onto the iron slab they called a bed. She moaned once again but stayed asleep.

I didn't really want to try and bandage her while she was knocked out but I didn't know how long she would stay asleep. I decided to just wait it out. I sat down on the cement floor and leaned back against the wall, watching her. I was faintly surprised at who the famous assassin actually was; a girl no older than 18. It seemed like her age was casting a middle finger in my father's face, saying "I can leave your city in havoc and I'm about as old as your son." I closed my eyes and breathed slowly, trying to calm my anger. If I let emotions get in the way I would be killed by tomorrow; feeling things were against the rules here. I tried not to dwell too much on the things I did for him. He trained me to follow in his footsteps and that included doing horrific things that haunted my dreams. Thinking about it would almost definitely lead to insanity and I couldn't afford going crazy. We already had one crazy person in the family; I didn't think this country could afford two.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice the girl staring right at me. My eyes shot open and I got to my feet in one fluid motion. She had caught me practically sleeping. I pushed down the embarrassment that tried to flood my cheeks.

She motioned me forward, "please, continue. It seems like you could use some sleep." She smiled at me sarcastically. I carefully hid my shaking hands behind my back, rubbing her blood into the creases of the black leather. There goes yet another pair of gloves I thought dismally. She pushed her thick dark blond hair behind her shoulder and leaned back on her bed, the picture of ease. I resisted the overwhelming urge to fidget with the .45 hidden in my pants. It seemed we were having one hell of a staring contest, I thought. Finally I broke the silence.

"I'm to tend to your wounds." I let a sliver of sarcasm slide into my words but other than that I stayed emotionless. Never show anything around the enemy other than boredom. Emotions could make you lose the card game.

She raised an eyebrow, "I'm not stopping you," she pointed to her thigh, "I think that could use the most attention." Carefully I walked over to her, scanning her muscles for any tenseness.

I threw her the bandages, "I think you know how to wrap your own injuries," I said flatly.

She tilted her head and smiled charmingly, "but weren't you assigned to me?" she was mocking me.

I let a small smirk crawl onto my face, "you want help?" I pulled a small switchblade from my coat pocket and before she could react, I cut her pants at the thigh, leaving access to her wound. I made sure to scrape her skin a little, drawing a thin line of blood. Quickly I pocketed the knife once again and snatched the bandages from the bed

"Damn," she cursed at me under her breath. I ripped the bandage in half and slid it under her bloody thigh. I tore the rest of the fabric away and assessed the wound quickly. Her hands were clenched at her sides but not from pain. I tried not to smile; instead I focused on the task at hand. Although my father had ordered me not to do anything but wrap the injuries, I knew it would get infected if I didn't at least wash it out a little. I wouldn't do it very gently though. Abruptly I stood up and pressed a button on the door.

"Please bring a bottle of water to cell 209 and leave it outside the door," I quipped. Seconds later someone knocked on the door and I slid it open a crack to retrieve the water. I quickly unscrewed the cap and poured it over the cut, trying not to waste a drop. It had to sting, I thought, but she didn't make a sound. The water cleared the blood away enough- as good as it would get. I wrapped the bandage tightly around her leg to staunch the flow of blood and then tied it. She looked towards the plain wall when I grabbed her arm and wrapped that too. Her muscles tensed under my hand but I ignored her.

"Done," I snapped. I slid away from her and went to stand at the other end of the wall. I studied her carefully as she flexed her arms. She looked like an animal, blood running slowly from her nose and a bruise forming around her jaw. It almost made me sad to see her treated so horribly, especially when I secretly hoped she had accomplished her job and killed the damn president. I'd do it myself if it weren't so impossible.

After she was done inspecting her wounds, she looked back up at me. Her gray eyes studied mine as if they could see right beneath the surface. Of course not, I assured myself. I blinked quickly, breaking her stare. "How old are you?" she asked.

I raised an eyebrow, "why do you care?"

She shrugged, "am I not allowed to be curious?"

"Not when you're a prisoner," I snapped.

"You're no fun," she sighed leaning back against the wall. I made a point of ignoring her.

I could feel her studying me as I cleaned up the water bottle. The muscles clenched in my back and I couldn't help but feel uneasy. "How's it feel being the president's bitch?" she asked unsympathetically.

I froze where I was, not expecting that question. My face twisted up in anger but I controlled my breathing. She wasn't going to win this; she wasn't going to get shit from me.

"I heard what he said. What's it like serving someone so utterly nasty?" she was goading me.

I turned around sharply, "I heard him too," I crossed my arms, "I just didn't realize that you did. I thought you were too busy getting your ass kicked."

She just smiled and shook her head, "I've felt worse."

"And I've seen better." I let my gaze travel down her body and bruised face.

She laughed loudly, "Looks like the president's bastard has a little bit of spirit after all," she winked at me.

I winked right back, "you'll see darling." Before I could let out the scream that I was holding in I left the cell, letting the door slam behind me.

I prayed to whatever god was out there that I didn't run into my father. I didn't think that I could deal with his shit right now. My prayers were apparently answered but not in the way I had hoped. I groaned when I heard the high pitched voice ring out from behind me.

"Damn," I cursed. Carefully I plastered on a large smile and spun around. A few feet behind me Lauren was bustling over in her 5 inch heels with my best- and only- friend trailing miserably behind her.

"Cass!" she screeched, "there you are!" she reached me in a few seconds and collapsed into my arms. She squeezed me tight and I tried not to flinch. She was hugging my injured arm. The smell of her perfume drifted into my nostrils and I tried not to gag at the sickeningly sweet smell of roses. I hated roses. Thankfully Daniel came in to rescue me before I could start coughing. He carefully extracted her from me.

"Hey Cassimere," he smiled at me. This time I smiled back for real. At least he didn't call me Cass I thought. I hated that nickname. It wasn't that I was one of those guys that hated girly things and all but that name was a little too feminine for my liking.

"Hi guys. What are you doing here?" I tried not to let how miserable I was seep into my voice.

"I wanted to see you of course!" she smiled at me largely. Lauren Dayton, one of America's sweethearts. Everyone loved her, everyone wanted her (mainly to screw), and everyone wanted to be her. She was a goddamn monster. At one point it had gotten into her pretty little head that we would positively be the best couple in the whole entire world and that she must have me. Daddy dear agreed. "We heard about what happened earlier," instantly she schooled her features into pity, "are you alright?" Her hands flitted around me, tugging on my suit jacket. I gently brushed her off, pulling her hands into my own. I didn't really like being touched and regretfully, Lauren was all about that stuff.

"Of course I'm alright," I assured her.

"I just can't believe someone like that got into the house!" she cried enthusiastically. Lauren began walking in the direction of the front yard, probably hoping for someone to catch us together. Daniel trailed dutifully behind us.

"You and me both Lauren," I tried to catch my friend's eye but no matter where I looked Lauren was always there.

"Tell me what happened!" she pleaded, "was it really the assassin?" her voice lowered as she said that as if it was a secret.

I sighed, "Yes Lauren, it was. It's all under control though. She's locked up and she won't be going anywhere for a while."

She placed her hand in the crook of my arm and tugged me even farther. I stiffened and resisted the urge to throw her off and run back down to Daniel. Mercifully he saved me from being alone.

"Lauren don't you have a tea time to be at or some shit like that?" he asked feigning interest.

She shot him a glare, "no Daniel, I don't. Don't you have some kind of gun thing to be at?"

"Nah, I had a gun thing earlier. At 5 I'm off to gallivant with the castle whores but I'm free right now." I stifled my laugh.

"Daniel would you please keep that filthy mouth of yours shut?" she snapped.

"Sure, but only if yours will open for my-"

"Lauren," I interrupted Daniel before he could offend her even more, "could I meet you in the gardens later? I have to talk to Daniel about some things before he goes to… gallivant with the castle whores."

He tapped an imaginary watch, "I don't have much time," he said, "Sugarplum will be waiting for me."

Lauren ignored Daniel, "really? Must you? I never see you anymore and I-" I leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips, trying not to twist my own up in disgust.

"Please? I'll only be an hour or so," I gently extracted her from my arm, not taking no for an answer. The place she was clutching seemed to sting when she finally let it go.

She pouted but finally agreed to meet me later, "as you wish. I'll meet you in the garden." I gave her a little wave and she sulked off towards the doors. We watched her sashay off and out the door, her hand coming up to protect her eyes even though she had put on sunglasses, probably preparing for people taking pictures. No matter what time it was there always seemed to be someone waiting outside for one of the president's family members to walk out. It didn't happen often.

"I fucking hate her," Daniel promised.

"Yup," I answered.

Daniel gave me a slap on the back and winked, "better make this quick dude; I've got to meet Sugarplum in the gardens at five."