The official crowning ceremony came and went without any trouble.

Or at least, that’s what I heard.

Some days before the ceremony was supposed to take place, I had been called to The Throne Room and been told to go hunt down The Third Princess, who had, it seemed, escaped and indeed not joined our side.

I was to find out where her and her faction were hiding and get rid of them. The Fourth Prince was sure they would make a big move on the day he was crowned, so it was to be taken care of before then.

With a “Yes, My Prince,” I had been on my way, not questioning his orders, and fully intending to carry them through.

Only… Despite searching the capital city high and low, using my network and information gatherers, as well as threatening The Third Princesses’ earlier personnel who had switched sides, nobody knew anything.

Which was why I, instead of attending, had been working in the shadows, guarding the premises, and making sure nothing would interfere with it.

And so, the kingdom had gotten a new king, and a convenient runaway princess to pin all the bloodshed on.

After the official crowning ceremony, The Third Princess became The Traitorous Princess, and The King and I had gone to great lengths to spread stories and rumors about how she had killed everyone with her poisons, leading to The Fourth Prince surviving from sheer luck, and that the gods no doubt had smiled upon him, and how he had no choice but to take the crown from the wicked woman who had escaped when he had found her killing none other than The Sixth Prince!

Because however could anything but poison have killed the favorite heir to the throne, when not a drop of blood had been spilled?

There were rumors, too, about the smiling Sixth Prince, and how that only solidified that he hadn’t seen his death coming. People speculated that The Third Princess had poisoned him first, and then had a pleasant chat while he slowly died, not knowing what was happening.

Of course…

Rumors were just rumors.

My personal feelings on the matter did not matter. I had just followed orders.

And so, time went by, following orders, killing enemies, searching for The Traitorous Princess and surviving.

It was no life, but I was still alive.

Six months went by like that, until a day I didn’t know I dreaded finally came.

An actual lead on The Traitorous Princess had been found and was to be investigated.

“And you’re sure we can trust this man?” The king’s advisor asked The King, gesturing with his hand toward where the lead had come from.

A poor man with tattered clothes, ribs protruding and a small dirty child hiding behind his legs. Judging from the form the child seemed like a girl, but there was no real need to know for sure.

“He might just want the reward.” The advisor continued, hate and mistrust clear in his voice and stance. He did not trust anyone that grew up in the slums. He had never trusted me, either. At most my presence was tolerated.

It seemed to be a matter of appearance to him. If I looked like I belonged, he would treat me with a certain politeness, but there would always be disgust in his eyes when he had to come near me. I wasn’t sure if he noticed it himself or not, but as I was trained to know other people and their feelings better than my own, it was clear to me.

“Mmmmh, yes, I do believe we can trust him,” The King said, talking in a drowsy and bored manner. It was like he mimicked someone, but couldn’t quite get anything right. 

He was trying too hard to be bored, to the point it made him seem strained. The drowsiness was too drowsy and almost sleepy, while the slouched manner was actually slouching, rather than seeming relaxed.

Everything, from his clearly fake smile, to the way he held his eyebrows, tried so hard to be something they were not, while failing to be what they were supposed to be.

Effortless. 

He was trying to be effortless and natural, but he was putting a lot of effort into it, thus missing the point.

Of course, the person he tried mimicking could only be –

I cut myself off. I was not allowed to make unnecessary assumptions about My King.

“Don’t you think so?”

His tone made it unmistakable that he had said something to me. Asked me something. But I hadn’t listened, too caught up in assessing his features. I nodded from instinct, since it didn’t really matter what I was asked, I was always supposed to agree.

“See?” The King said, self-important and satisfied, giving a nod that said the conversation was over.

“But it might be a tr –“

The advisor was not allowed to continue, The King held up a hand for silence, and that was that. The conversation truly was over.

The King looked at me, then at the trembling poor man, and I went to him. None the wiser of what I had agreed to, I walked out with the man and child, showing them to a room a bit down the hallway. It was called an interrogation room, but most people would agree it was more like a minimalist torture chamber.

We went in, first them, then me, and when the door shut behind us with a heavy CLUNK! The man started trembling even more.

I sighed.

The King had started using me for these kinds of interrogations since he became The King, and I did not enjoy them.

Yes, I was treated as the head of the investigation for The Traitorous Princess, but in reality, it was his personal knight squad that was the real brain of the investigation. I was mostly the one sent out for stealth missions, information gathering and assassinations.

And while one could argue that these investigations were under ‘information gathering’, I mostly specialized in the spying kind, where I would make myself home in sewers or on lofts or in bars, and overhear people already talking.

Getting them to talk, and getting them to tell the truth, were not things I had much skill in.

But I suspected The King didn’t care much about what I liked to do, and that this was yet another way of punishing me for thinking I could carry a prince’s dying words to his brother.

He expected and wanted results, and didn’t care if I was skilled in getting them, as long as I got them.

I just had to follow my orders. Nothing less, nothing more.

Which was why I had no choice but to look at the trembling figures in front of me, and start the investigation.

I looked the man straight in the eyes. If he tried to lie, I would know it. There wasn’t a twitch of the eyes, a muscle of the brow, that I would overlook.

“Where did you see The Thi-“ I coughed, covering my mistake, “The Traitorous Princess?” 

We had been told he had seen her in an abandoned house, but I needed to double check.

“An a-. An aba-…” he trailed off, eyes skittering this way and that, looking everywhere but at me. His shoulders tensed, his one arm grabbed behind him to the kid, and the other seemed to hug himself, padding himself in self-soothing motions.

If he was this skittish about re-telling something he had already told, something was definitely off.

I gave him a moment to gather himself, before he said, in a clear voice, “An abandoned house. At the edge of town.”

I nodded, pretending like I was thinking it over for a while before I asked, “And how do you know it’s The Traitorous Princess?”

“Because she’s pretty…” the man said, momentarily having a dreaming look in his eyes. Like he was seeing something other than empty rock walls.

“There aren’t any pretty girls in town?” I asked, noting the dreamy look in the back of my mind for later.

“She’s super pretty!” A higher pitched voice piped up, and I saw the kid had stuck their head out from the side of the man. I opened my mouth to ask the same question again, but the man came first.

“She has pretty hair, pretty clothes, pretty hands. She once gave my son an apple, and he said her hands were very soft. Only people who doesn’t work much have soft hands.” The man seemed more into talking now. Maybe because he thought I’d do something to his son because of the interruption.

His son, who sounded a bit girlish, and whom I’d assumed was a girl.

I shook my head. It didn’t matter what gender the kid was. If his dad called him a son, he was his son.

Instead, I focused on the apple. It just had to be an apple. Coincidences did happen.

“If she gave you an apple, why would you betray her?” I asked, not understanding.

When The Fourth Prince picked me up, after I had been beaten for stealing a bruised apple, he had given me a new one. The sweetest apple I had ever tasted. He had asked for my loyalty, and I had given it to him without a second thought.

So how could these people sell her out like this?

“Because of the reward…” the man said. He had the good sense to at least look ashamed.

But looking at him and his son, both thin and ragged, I couldn’t find it in me to judge them. They, too, did what they needed to survive.

“And you understand what it means if you have lied, swindled, or are otherwise trying to trick us?” I asked, not liking the words I spoke, but speaking them anyway.

“You will kill us…” the little kid whispered in such a trembling voice I couldn’t help but tremble as well.

I looked at the kid, looked into his eyes, and saw an intense will to survive. I knew that look all too well.

“The King said you would slice us into pieces and cook us up for our entire town to eat as stew… You agreed,” the man said, stumbling a bit over his words again, clearly nervous.

Ah. That was what I had nodded to.

I didn’t tell them that it was a sick joke The King liked to tell to scare people, but I also didn’t confirm or deny it.

Instead, I thanked them for their service, told them where they could get a meal, and said they would get the reward after we had checked and confirmed the lead.

Then I turned and left, steeling myself for killing yet another person I once thought I had to protect.

Part of me hoped the lead was wrong, but that would condemn this father and son to death. They might not be turned into stew, but they would indeed pay a heavy price for lying.

The other part of me hoped it was right so I could finally end this. Once The Traitorous Princess was gone The King would finally settle down. The direct threats to him would be gone, and he could spend his time ruling. Saving people.

And maybe… Just maybe… He would let me retire.

I was tired.

I just wanted to live.

Would I ever finish paying my debt to him, or would he use me until I broke?

…And, if I was already broken, would he keep using me, even then?