Page 70 of The King's Sword
Sabine jolted awake, the knife on the floor beside her. She must have fallen asleep and dropped it. Reaching down, she picked it up and readjusted herself against the wall.
Something squeaked, the sound barely audible. She froze, listening. A softthumpcame from her bedchamber. Forcing herself to breathe slowly and quietly so as not to garner attention, she peered through the crack between the opened door and the wall. In the darkened room, she spotted someone walking toward her bed.
The man leaned over and withdrew the dagger he must have thrown. He cursed and yanked back the blankets, revealing the pillows. He turned and scanned the bedchamber.
Two things became clear to Sabine. One, since this man was in her room, then something must have happened to Evander. Most likely, he was dead. And two, she was going to die because she couldn’t defend herself against a skilled assassin. She shouldn’t have hid in the bathing room where there was only one exit. She silently cursed herself for being so stupid.
Her entire body started shaking as the man took a couple of steps toward the bathing room. Something behind him moved, and a shadow peeled away from the wall. Sabine squinted, trying to see what was going on in the dark room. A second person appeared. She covered her mouth and nose with her free hand, wanting to stifle the sound of her own breathing as panic set in. She had nowhere to go.
The first man suddenly spun around to face the second person who shifted, revealing a knife in hand. She recognized him as Evander.
The assassin ducked at the same time Evander threw his knife. The weapon embedded in the wall with athud. The assassin rushed at Evander, and the two men began to grapple. Sabine scrambled to her feet, wanting to help.
They slammed into the bathing room door, knocking her over. She screamed, trying to get on her hands and knees so she could stand. Her head pounded from where the door had hit her. Hands grabbed her, yanking her to her feet. She found herself being held by the assassin, her back to his chest, as he clutched a dagger, the tip at her neck.
Evander stood a few feet away in front of them, his eyes wide.
“The only reason she’s not already dead is because I need to make it out of here,” the assassin said, his hot breath brushing against her ear.
“You’ll never leave these grounds alive,” Evander said, his voice low and deadly.
“If I don’t, then she doesn’t either,” the assassin said. “Now back away.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
The assassin pushed the tip of the blade into her neck just enough to break the skin. She felt a trickle of blood run down her neck. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to remain calm, but all she could think about was dying.
The man chuckled, the sound reverberating through Sabine. “It seems we’re at a stalemate.”
Sabine realized she still held the knife in her hand. While she knew she couldn’t move fast enough to kill the assassin before he slit her throat, at least she could do some damage. At least she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
The second she rammed her knife into this vile man, he’d kill her. She just hoped it gave Evander enough time to end the assassin before the two could resume fighting. When she died, she’d see her sister again. That was consolation enough. She just wished she could tell Evander that she cared for him, loved him even, before she died. But with the weapon against her neck, she couldn’t speak. It was time for action.
Gripping the knife, Sabine lifted it slightly, then rammed it down into the assassin, striking his thigh. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain that would accompany death.
The assassin dropped to the floor, his dagger still in hand.
Evander grabbed her arm, yanking her out of the bathing room. “Are you all right?” He ran his hands over her body before inspecting her neck.
She blinked, trying to understand what had just happened. Glancing behind her, she saw the assassin on the floor, a knife protruding from his chest. “How?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“I saw you shift your fingers and knew you were getting ready to strike him. The moment you did, I threw my dagger. I’m just glad you moved enough so I could kill him.”
“Are you certain he’s dead?”
“Yes.” He wound his fingers through hers, leading her from the bedroom. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Dozens of questions filled her mind, like why the two men were in her room in the first place and how had they gotten there?
Evander led her to a room a few doors down. A fire roared in the hearth, but the room was empty. Still too shocked from the events that had just taken place to voice any of her questions, she went over to the end of the bed and sat, staring into the flames.
Evander closed the door before sitting next to her on the bed. “Are you certain you’re all right?” he asked.
She felt her neck. It was only a small cut, and the blood had already dried. She nodded.
Evander sighed. “I don’t know what I would have done if something happened to you.” His voice came out husky and deeper than usual. He leaned forward, his right hand coming up, gently cupping the side of her face. His thumb brushed over her lips. “Sabine,” he whispered.
She clutched onto his shirt, pulling him closer, wanting the comfort of his body against hers. She started to cry.
