Assassin of Curses: (The Coren Hart Chronicles Book 3) Jessie Eaker (best reads txt) đź“–
- Author: Jessie Eaker
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The aide sighed. I got the impression he did this a lot.
“No, my lord. Imperial Advisor Yonge recommended her.”
“Oh,” he said. He looked back down at his paper, and then eyed the pile beside him, before looking back at me. “Then you can tell them I’ve met her. I’ve got too much to do today to be distracted.” He held out his hand toward me. “My brush, please.”
I hesitated. I was surprised at his abrupt dismissal. I needed at least a few days of access to gather my intelligence. I was supposed to be allowed several meetings to determine my compatibility. He might suspect me already, but I didn’t think that was the case. No, it was something else.
He impatiently wiggled the fingers of his hand. “My brush.”
My mind raced. He was used to being obeyed. He was used to girls dressed up and competing for his attention. From the room’s lack of decorations, he had no use for frills, and if I had to guess, thought the women trooped in front of him were mere decorations. Yet, his soldiers loved him, and he had already outmaneuvered one political rival. Plus, this man had somehow evaded a previous assassin and was thought to be a threat. I somehow sensed this man concealed a bright, yet disciplined intellect. And going with the script my masters had carefully constructed was not going to work.
His aide went to pluck the brush out of my hand, but I suddenly stepped forward and over to the game board. “If you wish your property returned, you are going to have to take it.” I picked up a red soldier piece from the board and moved it in a classic opening.
The guards squirmed behind me, uneasy at my undignified tone. “Lady...” started his aide.
The young man blinked at me in surprise. He held up a hand for the aide to wait. Then he stood and moved to stand on the other side of the board. He picked up a blue soldier and moved it in the classic response.
I reached for the piece that would be the classic reply to his move. He likewise started to reach for his piece in anticipation of the expected move—eager to put this to a quick end. But at the last moment, I shifted to one of the moves that was less than classic. It was considered to be—aggressive—and against a skilled player would do nothing but extend the game.
His hand froze over the board. Then continued with his classic response. He likely thought I was merely moving pieces around—the game was not popular with females, and I had only been taught as a way to practice planning against an opponent. I was no master, but I knew the basics.
My next move was to lead with the archer. He quickly followed with the next classic move—another soldier. My archer then took his soldier. His eyes went up in surprise, and he then looked at me—to really see me—for the first time. I had just disproven his belief that I was not a player. The room was deadly quiet. One of the guards shifted, and it sounded like thunder. I tried not to look at him and instead focused on the board.
The young man brought up his monk, which indicated a shift in strategy. I nearly laughed. I had played out this same plan against Jiaying, so I knew it well. She had stopped playing with me because of it. I moved my archer to endanger his general.
He leaned forward and put both hands on the desk. It was several minutes before he moved a piece. I quickly responded.
Back and forth we went, he gained advantage, then I took some back. But eventually, he surrounded my general.
I straightened and looked into his eyes. Then held out the brush to him. He carefully took it, while not taking his eyes off me. I turned to leave, my guards trailing me. As I reached the door, he called after me. “Join me for dinner this evening....”
His security was tight as I traveled down the same corridor I had before. The guards were alert as ever, but there was a different glint to their eye. Respect? Wariness? Disbelief? I wasn’t quite sure. The servants that assisted me in getting ready for dinner were almost twittering and kept exchanging knowing looks. Apparently, I had set the household on end. I sighed. If it helped me with understanding the security of the place, that was fine. He would likely be dead before the end of the month. I wondered if I would have to play the bereaved concubine. For some reason, the thought tightened my stomach.
This evening, I had dressed simply, in a white blouse, vest, and dark skirt. I realized an elaborate dress would do nothing to impress him, so I had to get creative in matching the few pieces I had. My hair was down with two small combs pulling it back from my face. I couldn’t help but wonder what my masters would say—I was severely deviating from the script. But it was the only way I could see to get the information I needed. My hope is he would invite me for a walk in a nearby garden, or even better, back to his chambers where I might find some weakness in his defenses.
The guards guided me to a different door deeper inside the manor. I was not surprised to find another austere room, with a single table and two chairs in its center. The only decorations on the walls were portraits of the same man and woman from the office. Beneath the pictures sat a small table adorned with a simple bowl candle. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a myst lamp, but an actual candle. I couldn’t help but wonder who
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