Aveline (9 page)

“My master believed this slave would ease
your burden,” George added when the woman did not speak. “No woman
of your position should be forced to sully her hands as you
are.”

“Burden,” she repeated and whirled, gliding
back to the table. “May no one else ever know such a life as
mine!”

“My master understands this and wishes to
help make your life more comfortable.”

“I had thought my stepson wished me to
suffer!” she snapped.

“He does not,” George said firmly. “Consider
this a gift to you as well.”

George is a damned good
liar,
Aveline thought, entertained by how
he was manipulating the fickle-tempered beauty.

“Then I accept. For now.” The dark-haired
woman lifted a plate and placed a heel of bread, three strawberries
and a half-eaten piece of meat upon it. She leaned over to pour a
cup of tea next, dropped a sugar cube into it, then reached into a
pocket hidden in her sleeve for a small vial. She delicately
dispelled two drops from the vial before replacing it. “Slave,
serve your mistress her dinner!”

George nudged Aveline forward.

Is Tiana a dog?
She thought, looking over the paltry dinner. She
approached and accepted the plate and saucer held out towards her
while the woman glared at George.

“It will be your life in the fire, if this
does not go well, or if I find upon his return he did not arrange
this,” she warned him.

He bowed his head at her then signaled
Aveline towards the door.

Aveline obeyed, not at all eager to remain
in the presence of the wealthy woman. She exited and waited in the
round cul de sac for George. He appeared after a minute and closed
the door to the woman’s chambers behind him.

“You will need to tread very carefully,” he
warned Aveline again. “Tiana has never had a personal slave, and
her stepmother will object to her husband if my master fails to
reassign you. At the very least, you should have three weeks, until
my master returns.”

Puzzled by the dynamics of the assignment,
Aveline waited for George to explain.

“Do not ask too many questions and do not
cross paths with Matilda, if you can help it,” he said. “Her drugs
have made her pleasant today.”

“That was
pleasant
?” Aveline asked,
eyebrows shooting up.

George said nothing. He knew far more than
he let on, Aveline assessed. Surprised he had stood up to the
stepmother named Matilda, she chalked it up to an impressive sense
of loyalty to his master. She had never heard how slaves lived. By
the nature by which they were bought and sold, she assumed loyalty
would be difficult to assure.

“This is Tiana’s room. It’s kept locked from
the outside at all time,” he said and approached the door right of
center. “My master ordered for you to be provided a key. It will
allow you to exit Tiana’s chambers. You cannot give it to Tiana or
to anyone else. She must not leave her room. Ever. You must not
speak about her to anyone, ever.”

Aveline’s instincts were on edge. George’s
expression, always grim, had turned severe.

“What’s wrong with her?” she asked when he
finished the lecture. “Why is she locked up?” Her concern was not
for some wealthy girl living in opulence but her own safety.

“It is not my duty to know,” George replied
and looked away.

But he did know. Aveline would wager every
one of the gold candlesticks in Matilda’s fancy parlor on it.

“Take Tiana her dinner. Remember, if we are
caught, we both burn.” By his tone, he had little hope of Aveline
succeeding.

“You’re as
pleasant
as Matilda,”
Aveline said. “Don’t worry so much, George.”

“I am old. At least, I will burn quickly.”
He handed her a large key.

She smiled, entertained by the dour slave.
George left her standing before Tiana’s door and Aveline focused on
her mission.

The only obstacle between her and the
ability to claim her place among her father’s assassins lay beyond
the elegant mahogany slab of wood with its gilded fixtures. Hired
first to protect Tiana, then to murder her, Aveline doubted
anything could surprise her more than the turn her life had taken
since her father’s death. Whatever reason Tiana was locked away was
inconsequential when Aveline was determined to win Karl’s support
and save Rocky.

She could make it until spring in this
ridiculous world of the wealthy. If Tiana resembled her unpleasant
stepmother at all, she would be easy to kill.

This is how I will honor my
father.
She drew a steady
breath.

When she was an official assassin, Aveline
would be able to look up at the sky and know her father and mother
were proud of her. She hated crying, hated how weak it made her
feel, but when she thought of her father, she was unable to stop
the tears from forming. He had been her mentor as well as her
father, and she found herself wishing she could seek his advice one
last time about her current circumstances. His sudden absence
rattled her to her core.

She took a moment to regain control over her
emotions then shifted the saucer to brace it against her body so
she could pull the key to Tiana’s room from her pocket. Her nose
wrinkled at the pungent tea. Recognizing a very faint odor among
the heavier smells of herbs, she leaned forward and sniffed.

An assassin learned early on how to identify
poisons by scent and taste. Aveline lifted the cup to her mouth and
took a tiny sip. Intermixed with the strong herbs was a familiar
flavor: arsenic, a favorite among assassins.

That bitch,
she thought, amazed by how brazen Matilda had
been. None of the slaves had blinked when she dropped the poison
into Tiana’s drink. Were they ignorant as to what it was? Or too
afraid to speak up?

If her only challenge to keeping Tiana alive
was a woman too stupid to hide what she did, Aveline’s duty to
protect the Hanover girl was going to be easier than she
thought.

Reaching forward to unlock the door, Aveline
felt confident about her future for the first time since her father
fell ill, although cautious about what danger lurked in the room
before her. She envisioned a chamber similar to Matilda’s or one of
the sitting rooms she had passed through while following George
here. Balancing herself on the balls of her feet, in case this
Tiana was somehow dangerous, Aveline opened the door slowly.

Aveline blinked in the dim lighting of the
room. The window across from the door had been boarded up, though
light peeked in around the edges of the slab of wood covering it.
The small bedroom was lit only by two candles and a dangling light
bulb. For a moment, she stood in the doorway, puzzled. It was as if
she had been magically transported from the outer city to the inner
city. The room was barren of every sign of wealth and consisted of
wooden floors and walls, weathered furniture and few personal
belongings, none of which appeared to be of value, except for a
glass perfume bottle on the vanity. Even it was only of moderate
value.

She spotted the pile of books then, antique
tomes from the Old World stacked on one side of the vanity. Each of
the books was worth a small fortune in the criminal underworld. A
bathroom with indoor plumbing – the only other luxury the room
contained – was off to the right and a closet to the left. The room
was clean and plain and smelled of the roses placed in a simple
vase on the nightstand beside a skinny, wooden bed with rags for
coverings. Neither pictures nor mirrors hung on the walls, and no
sculptures stood in the corners.

This is worse than my
room,
Aveline thought, recalling her
cluttered bedroom in her father’s cabin.

The girl on the bed seemed to be frozen in
place. Her eyes were downcast, her long blond locks loose around
her. She was barefoot and clothed in a cotton gown, the kind
Aveline wore to sleep when she as a child.

But this was not a child. Aveline estimated
the girl to be around her age, slender to the point of gaunt – and
breathtakingly beautiful with pale, flawless skin and small
features. Aveline caught herself staring too long. She had never
been drawn to women over men, but Tiana was the prettiest woman she
had ever seen, prettier even than Matilda. She almost understood
the appeal of a beautiful woman to a man.

Aveline closed the door. She started to ask
where Tiana wanted her dinner then stopped, recalling she was
supposed to be mute. Crossing to the small table near the boarded
up window, she placed the meager meal on it. The food and room fit
together – but nothing else about this place did. Why did Matilda’s
stepdaughter live in poverty, under lock and key? The girl
contained absolutely none of the muscular toning Aveline did after
years of calisthenics and weapons training. She was naturally
slender without being athletic, leading Aveline to believe Tiana
posed no physical danger to anyone.

Unless … was she insane?

It was the only other conclusion Aveline
could draw, and it left her leery. Some of the poorest people on
the streets displayed an unpredictable, dangerous sort of madness
characterized by fits of rage and violence. Her father had been
kinder to them than most, teaching Aveline that they would starve
without charity, since they were unable to work for a living.

If madness were the case, Aveline almost
understood why Tiana was imprisoned in this room with none of the
finery she might throw or break or damage in an uncontrollable
state.

Aveline waited to be acknowledged in some
regard, especially after she dumped out the tea and rinsed the cup
out, or for Tiana to eat her dinner.

Tiana did not move or lift her eyes from the
floor. Her shoulders were hunched, and she was tense.

After an awkward silence that stretched for
over ten minutes, Aveline retreated to the door and debated
leaving. She had formed no real expectation of the person she was
supposed to guard, and she was still startled by what she found. If
Tiana’s family barely fed her and kept her locked up, what harm
would anyone possibly want to cause her?

Why did Tiana’s brother insist only Aveline
could protect her? And why had Karl’s benefactor likewise claimed
only Aveline could kill her?

Aveline’s instincts were whispering, but she
could not quite understand what they wanted her to know. Unlike
Matilda, she sensed no danger from Tiana, but there was a charge in
the air that left her edgy. Combined with the Spartan quarters, she
had the sudden urge to talk to George and ask several more
questions about her new charge.

She made the decision to find him, and the
slave quarters, then return before dusk. Most assassinations
occurred between twilight and dawn. If Tiana’s brother were
concerned about someone attacking her, those were the hours Aveline
needed to be wary.

She reached for the door to open it. Before
she could unlock it, however, it was shoved open.

Aveline stumbled back.

“Dumb as promised,” a female voice said
coolly. Aveline caught her balance against the wall. “Your brother
wasted a whole ounce on this slave.”

Aveline lowered her eyes when she saw the
familiar blue of Matilda’s dress and ground her teeth to keep from
reacting.

Matilda closed the door behind her and
breezed obliviously into the room towards Tiana.

“This slave is yours, at least, until your
brother returns and reassigns her,” she announced. “I will no
longer be forced to wait upon you, hand and foot. If I hear you
displayed any incidents for her to see, I will have you whipped,
Tiana.”

“Yes, Matilda,” came the soft, quiet
response.

“And you, slave!” Matilda
rounded on Aveline. “My stepdaughter is of a delicate nature. Her
blood has been poisoned by witchcraft and sorcery. She is forbidden
by her father from leaving this room, unless her presence is
mandated by him and him alone. If she displays any strangeness,
you
will
inform me,
or you will be the one whipped.”

Aveline had a few choice
words for Matilda but kept quiet. The bizarre explanation for
Tiana’s seclusion made little sense to her, unless
strangeness
was how the
wealthy described madness.

“Nod if you understand, slave,” Matilda
ordered.

Aveline obeyed.

The woman in blue crossed to the vanity and
yanked open a drawer. She pulled out a clear, glass vial containing
what Aveline presumed was the kind of illicit drugs that often
drove people into madness on the streets. By its color, pure white,
it was of better quality than anything found in the inner city.

Matilda pushed the drugs into her purse and
left the room. The sound of the lock sliding into place was
followed by more awkward silence.

Tiana remained frozen in place.

Uncertain what to expect, Aveline studied
her, this time noticing the bandages around one of the girl’s arms.
Extensive scarring marred Tiana’s other forearm, and she bore
bruises on the rest of her exposed arms and across one cheek.

An uneasy feeling slid through Aveline, one
akin to pity. She shook it off, not about to empathize with the
girl she was supposed to kill in a few months. But she did decide
to remain here rather than leaving to find George. Whether the
danger to Tiana was Matilda, or someone else, she was unable to
shake the instinct urging her not to leave the vulnerable, mad girl
alone until she had figured out a little bit more about her.

Her mind made up, Aveline crossed the room
to the vanity, which contained one of the two chairs in the
bedroom. The second was at the table. She withdrew the leather
bundle George had provided and sat down to unroll it.