Page 8 of The Assassin's Dancer
3
AMARYLLIS
It didn’t take long to find information on Night Alley. Located just a few miles from the palace, it was described in a recent library report as a quaint little village with many taverns, shops, and plenty of nightlife.
By nightlife, they meant criminals, drunks, and whores.
The poor librarian almost had a fit when she caught us reading about it. I can’t imagine how she’d react if she saw me now, three days later, walking through that very village with nothing but a woollen cloak to protect me – and completely alone.
It’s not like I had much choice, though. In the past few days, Father had insisted on arranging multiple dates between Hugo and my sisters.
Fern was forced to take his arm on a walk through the grounds – which would not have been so bad had he not apparently stared at her bust the entire time.
Heather, one of our sweetest sisters, returned from her date looking particularly green after Hugo had her join him for a hunt.
And Camellia arrived back from her dinner date sobbing uncontrollably. Apparently, the prince had spent the entire mealpointing out faults with her figure and declared that she’d struggle to ever find a husband, as she was already much past her prime.
She’s twenty-four!
By the time we arrived at the library, I’d already decided I was definitely going to find the Scorpion. Unfortunately, none of my sisters were feeling brave enough to join me. Although Dahlia didvery generouslyoffer me her second-favourite horse to ride through the woods – which I accepted – and now Destiny is secured to a tree a few taverns away.
Still, even though the ride here was mostly in complete darkness and there are wolves in the forest, I’d rather be out there riding Destiny than walking down these cobbled streets alone. The further I go, the more I notice the stumbling men outside the taverns, staring with that awful, hungry look in their eyes.
It makes my stomach churn.
“Where’s a p-pretty darlin’ like you wanderin o’to at this time of night?”
Pausing, I turn to face the voice. Standing rather lopsidedly outside a bustling tavern, an older man watches me. The orange glow from the windows lights up his greasy face and the overflowing tankard in his hand.
“Just looking for something, sir,” I reply with a polite dip of my head.
“Whatcha looking for?” he slurs. “A good time? I can show you a good time. Why don’t you come here? Come closer to Randy.”
“No, thank you,” I say, walking away. While I’ll almost certainly need to ask someone for help to find this Scorpion fellow, I definitely don’t want it from him.
“Hey!” he shouts, making me flinch. “I’m not done talking to you!”
Just keep walking. Just keep walking.
“Hey!” he shouts again. “Hey!” This time, his voice deepens, and I hear his tankard clattering onto the ground. “Get back here, you bitch!” he growls.
My chest burns, and my steps quicken to a sprint. But now I can hear his bootsteps rapidly approaching behind me.
Blossom was right. This was a terrible idea. And now I’m going to end up face-down in a river while Hugo gets to have his way with one of my sisters.
Fern, or Heather, or Camellia.
OrLiliana.
I press a hand to my mouth to stifle a cry.
“You better stop running, you slut!”
Taverns, shops, and crooked houses fly past me. The heels of my boots slam against the cobbles.
Dipping to the side to avoid a gaggle of drunkards, the wind catches my cloak and roughly rips it away. I gasp, reaching for it, but the growling man is so close now he can almost touch my hair as it streams out in ribbons behind me.
“Stop running!” he roars.
