When John returned to the office, I was sitting in his chair drumming my fingers on the desk. I glared at the mask. A matte white with an apathetic expression. Dark blue brush strokes made the expression dark, mournful even. Gold dotted flourishes framed it, as if a golden crown melted down and dribbling out of the bottom lip off the chin. I had abandoned it there as my thoughts raced. It was made to be heavy and take a hit in battle. The Assassin’s Guild often bared red and gold or red and black masks.

My first mistake was hoping I had been forgotten, that no one would recognize the man I had grown into during the last decade. The other was realizing John would reach out for help the moment he knew my life would be at risk. What a fool I can be. How selfish of me to want to keep all of this on my shoulders and deny the fact there would be a wake for every action and choice I’ve made. I hurt my entire city and kingdom, and yet here I sit and not one person has blamed me or dragged me back. Not one person in this city has forsaken me nor called me a traitor, or even say my dream is too ridiculous.

John slowly pulled the door closed, our eyes meeting. His brow furrowed, a silent apology but neither of us knew where to start. He leaned against the door as if afraid I would lash out at him. My fingers halted and I picked up the mask. Deep down, I wasn’t sure whether I was mad or relieved. My frustration had escalated in a matter of seconds hearing my father say my name so coolly.

I locked eyes once more with John, “Exactly what did you write in that letter, John?”

His face turned red, “Nothing that I didn’t mean.”

I glared up at the ceiling watching the cobwebs quivering in the breeze. “I didn’t want anyone to know. Especially not my father.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes falling to the floor.

“It was risky, letting him find out about me.” The candle light shimmered off his golden hair and shadows crossed his face. How attractive he could be. “I don’t understand why they haven’t announced it. Haven’t dragged me back. What we have here could have been torn apart.”

“What do we have?” The blue gaze shot up, a scowl on his face. “This thing, between us, Dante. What is it exactly?”

My heart leapt to my throat, the question startling me and my blood ran cold. I opened my mouth, but there was nothing. No words to describe it, no feelings I wanted to make known, and the murmuring of desires laughed at me as I purse my lips in contempt.

I can’t confess my love. We both know if I dare say it, dare to break down the wall that you’ll march across this room and kiss me. If you do that, I will shatter into a million pieces or worse, ruin you.

“I know where I want it to go.”

John’s voice ripped through my soul. Fear gripped my heart. Eyes wide, the look in those blue eyes were fierce, as if he could see through the wall with a hole he had made. There would be no going back, don’t say it. I had no words, just dread pressing down on me despite how much I longed to hear him say it, to tell me, I love you, Dante.

“But I’m unsure…” John caught the terrified expression on my face and he lost the fire in his eyes, guilt replacing it. “Dante, the day I left I…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I grabbed up the mask, placing it over my face to hide the emotions tearing me apart. “You’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

“Did you miss me like I missed you?” I cursed the silence in the room that allowed his words to reach me. “Did you think of me often? I want to know.”

Jerking from the chair, I remained silent. John still had his back against the door. I reached for the knob but his hand covered it before I could. 

“I don’t have time for this.” I can’t go there, not when I love you. Not when I see that you feel this way about me. Please, don’t make today hurt anymore than it has, John. “Move!”

“I want to know, Dante.” His gaze made my body burn with desire, “I want to know everything.”

That look sent chills through me only to spark the caged arousal at my core to rake across the breaking walls. It’s so easy to see myself with you, see that face made in the throes of passion. My soul is breaking and you know it. My fingers slid over his hand and he gripped the knob tighter, threatening to defend it. The heat of our hands provocative as John held his breath before trying again.

“Everything, Dante.” He repeated, “I deserve to know.”

“Do you?” Something bitter woke inside me, and no longer was I willing to remain silent in the surge of emotions he had shaken lose. “You took ten years to come home, John. What more of an answer do you need?”

Gripping my hand over his, I twisted the knob. He was biting his lip and I left the moment the door opened wide enough. I expected to hear him call out, to chase after me and swing me around on my heel. Pushing pass the front doors, guards were placed to watch over the church and I could freely stomp down the street. Aimless, I found myself in front of the herbalist shop and barged in still riding on my anger. Madame Plasket raised an eyebrow. She was leaned over her counter flipping through a tome of plants. Straightening herself, I continued my march and slammed both palms on the counter.

“Well, aren’t we in a bitter mood.” She shut the book and pushed it off to the side. “What has crawled up your drawers today?”

“Who told my father?” I growled through the mask.

“He already knew by the time I got to his doorstep, if that’s what you wanted to know.” She laughed, “But you aren’t wrong to think I would pass the word onto him. Anything to gain favor with the King.”

“Do you know who told him?” I pulled away, pacing the aisle as I rubbed my aching side. “And does Falco know that my father is aware? I need to know exactly where I stand.”

She folded her hands together, a coy smile on her lips and sparkle in her maroon eyes. “Rumor says a letter made its way to your father and shortly after, he was looking for information on you. As for the other, the whole city and your father are keeping lips tight. None of us want Falco to be aware we know you’re back. Instead, you have us backing you at every turn when its safe.”

“Safe?” I halted, looking over my shoulder. “Exactly what’s going on in Glensdale? How did Falco get this much control to put the Assassin’s Guild at a disadvantage?”

“It’s the same thing that’s been going on since before our first prince left.” I gave her a stern stare and she rolled her eyes. “To be honest, your father’s been battling this hidden war since The House was established. Your leaving, or possibly dead, was just the tip of a sword’s edge we’ve been cut by since before your brother’s conception.”

“What brother? And what hidden war? I want to know more. Tell me my family history through the eyes of the guild.”

“You don’t become the ruling family to a new kingdom without keeping enemies close. Falco has been doing everything in his power to chisel down the royal family for a few centuries now.” Searching my eyes a moment she asked, “Have you ever once wondered what happened to your older siblings, boy?”

My frown deepened, pulling off the mask I laid it between us. “I’ve always wondered,” I whispered, “But I’d have to know about my brother in order to question anything. Even the day when I found myself on the frontlines with Falco and nearly took an arrow to the head; it made it clear what had really happened to my sister.”

“You got your answer then,” she snorted.

“Yea, but father didn’t discuss it after that. Nor has he talked about my mother. He never spoke of his first wife and all the pictures of her, and my brother apparently, removed.” Searching the air for questions, I pushed forward. “I had an older sister, and we had an elder brother. Both are half-siblings, yes?”

“Yes. The eldest was your brother Ashton, though he fought in the wars that created this nation we now call The house, then disappeared. He’d held the title of Grandmere’s Champion for years before this. Ashton’s prowess with any blade and hand-to-hand combat was unmatched. The legends say he had became a bloodeater without the Fanged Lady, but that would mean the forgotten black arts were practiced more freely in his youth. He once took out an entire legion with only a shield as a weapon during the war.”

“Disappeared, not dead?” I seared my brother’s name to memory. “What happened to the first prince?”

“I imagine he’s dead by now. No one’s heard anything from him since he left here nearly two hundred years ago with his lover, Francesca. You have to understand; it was different times.” Madame Plasket gave a look of pity, my expression clinging onto all the information. “Champions used to be daemon warriors who battled in arenas for the leading human families. These families would eventually turn against one another and…”

“Daemons would be used like weapons for a time before fighting for freedom. Thus, humans unified under one ruler and became the nation known as The Tower, we The House, and later The Court would develop with parties from both kingdoms.” She twisted her lips at me. “I know this part of the history well, so back to Ashton.”

“Your brother and Francesca were both gladiators. Those two took to war like ducks to water when the war started. Ashton fought for his family, but after he won us our freedom, they both wanted their freedom and fell off the map. I imagine if he or Francesca are still alive, they go where the fighting is best, hit every tavern where the beer flows freely, and there’s plenty of tail to be had.”

“I see.” I smirked, but then I lost the humor in it. “Then no one knows much beyond that about Ashton. Is her the one the stories about? The legend of the immortal and the seventh night?”

“No, in fact, that’s the legend that’s all scrambled in my own records. Whoever that daemon was is still around, but who and how, no one knows.” She shuffled on her stool and straightened her back. “Your sister, Lillian, well…”

“She went to battle in my father’s place.” This story I do know, I think.

“Yes, well, he was recovering at the time from a near mortal wound.” And there’s the detail I didn’t know. Father must’ve blamed himself and still does. “So, she went with Falco and when he returned, he announced Lillian fell in battle. The people of Glensdale were angry, demanding to bring back her body. Instead, any who dared to come close were met with a horde of battle worn humans and daemons all suffering from the Madness. Folks were lucky to come back alive and in one piece trying to find evidence. The Court retreated into the Perevina Mountains after that and no one could get word in or out.”

“But, she was only there because my father was wounded?” I could see the puzzle pieces coming together. See where Falco plucked one feather at a time, making my father flightless as he went. “How did that happen? I have a tough time believing anyone managed to do that to him.”

“Your mother, Evelyn. She was supposed to assassinate your father.” Madame Plasket patted my arm, smiling over the secret details.

“Wait, my mother was an assassin?” The room spun with the information unfolding. “Who hired her?”

“Falco.” She cooed, “But her thoughts were if the king fell by her hand, he didn’t need to lead us anymore. After losing Ashton and Lillian, your father’s first wife died soon after, but we suspect foul play even with her death. I thought Evelyn would have a fighting chance, but she couldn’t figure out where the poison was coming from and turned her focus on giving birth to you in those last moments of her life.”

“Mother was one of your assassins then?”

Laughing, Madame Plasket shook her head. “Oh no, we entered the sisterhood here at the same time, dear. I stayed in for the long game, but she fell in love that night. Your father was so brave, he let her land that stab intentionally so he could steal a kiss from her. The two of them had crossed paths and he’d pegged her as a hired assassin months ago. It infuriated her that he was so quick-witted to even best her. It became a game to them, like an estranged dance with daggers and backdoor dealings. They were in a battle of wits for years and he’d bested her at last. That night she snuck into his bedroom to get back at him and he knew she’d come, madder than a wet hen.”

Raising my brow high, I digested it all. “Why does it not shock me that my father enjoys testing his fate so loosely? But, what about now? Falco’s got the whole city scared.”

“Aye, he does.” Sighing, Madame Plasket propped her chin up and flipped open her book again. “He’s got us in such a bind, we can’t get in and out of the city so easily. Worst, he’s hired mercenaries and aligned with Bishop Marquis. All the towns outside of Glensdale have patrols looking for us, and they’ve got orders to erase anyone who stands against him. A lot of people don’t come home or make it to a proper grave when they travel outside these walls. Inside, we do what we can to watch and protect the innocent.”

“Bishop Marquis doesn’t seem all that threatening. Why drop his name into this?” A knot turned tight and hard in my gut.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Dante.” She stole a glance, then flipped to a page with Nightshade on it. “He keeps dark company; Arbre Tombé or the Brotherhood of the Fallen Tree. Men we’ve never seen in Grandmere before. Rumor has it these men know the dark arts and Marquis is gathering information in the church’s catacombs. We think he’s looking for a lost artifact and keeping the civil war boiling so the Reapers can lay grounds for taking over The House and The Tower. They even aim to dismantle The Church. It’s rumored The Court isn’t so much passive but aiming to combat the Brotherhood. With what, I haven’t any idea.”

“Who are they?” Books and reports from the royal archives had spoken of the Assassin’s Guild, the factions of royal families prior to the war. This was a new threat.

“We need to get Falco off our heels before we can find anything out. For now, keep your priest safe and know the city will keep your secret. Let Falco think your hiding and have something to lose, other than your life and John’s.”

“Right.” Huffing, the day had chiseled away all that I could handle. “Thank you for being so generous with your information.”

I started to leave, but she called out, “Dante. Nothing in this world comes without a price.”

Nodding, I pushed down the nerves her words rattled.

They are all giving me this information, this freedom, in exchange that I take out Falco. Everyone in this wretched city, my father included, are betting on me and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to take him down as a normal daemon. 

My throat tingled from where he had gripped me almost a week ago and I could still taste him on my tongue.

I vowed that I would never become a bloodeater. Without the Fanged Lady, no one has been able to become one since I left, yet not one soul has said a word to me of it. Only Falco. We all want the Madness and unrest to end. I’ll have to end this even if it costs me my life in order to keep Glensdale, my father, and John safe.