"You rat, let go of my sandwich!" Charlotte yelled, smacking Aland's hand.

"What? You said I could have it!" Aland yelled back, recoiling.

"Take mine," I offered, handing him the plate.

"Adalia, he's eaten four already and you've only taken a bite. You should eat it," Lance said, shooting a look at Aland who dropped the plate and hastily set it back in front of me. I laughed.

"Wait . . . Adalia? I thought your name was Kristina?" Charlotte asked.

Lance winked at me. Heat rushed to my face. "Just eat," he said.

"No, no," I patted Lance's arm, "I'm fine." I returned the sandwich to Aland who refused to eat it.

"Lance will kill me, just watch him if I take it. He's my spar partner," Aland narrowed his eyes at a proud Lance.

"I'll make sure he won't," Charlotte and I said in unison, and I turned to her, raising an eyes. She suddenly found a keen interest in her plate.

"Well then I am good," he grinned and took a bite.

"Ugh, she bit from that side," Darren swatted the back of Aland's head. He choked on his food.

"No'ody ca'es," Aland said through a full mouth and I laughed.

"You're a crazy lot," I shook my head, taking a sip of water. I was very unlucky though because at the same time, Darren tried to make me laugh and he accomplished his goal, but it was very poorly planned because the water spurted out of my mouth and soaked him.

Charlotte, Lance, and Aland were in a fit of laughter by then, slapping the table with their hands and leaning backward in their chairs. Over their heads I saw Demetria watching us carefully, sitting alone.

"Lance, would you call her over here?" I asked as his laughter ceased.

"Who, Demetria?"

"Who else? I can't ask, she won't listen to me, but she'll listen to you for sure."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Trust me."

Lance sighed and stood up, walking over to Demetria discreetly. I elbowed Charlotte and pointed at them and she giggled.

I saw Lance pointing at us. I smiled. Demetria shook her head once and smiled at him, which actually made her look beautiful. Lance tugged on her arm and then she was up, nodding, and I covered my mouth to hide the smirk I felt on my face.

"Ooooh," Charlotte whispered. "Does Lance know?"

"I let it slip a couple of times. But now that I think about it," I frowned, "I'm not sure he was even listening."

"Excuse me?" Aland said, leaning closer. "We may act as if we don't know anything but we hear and see more than girls do. We just don't talk about it as much and try to ignore, unlike you hens."

"Excuse me?" Charlotte hissed.

"Shhh! She's here." Aland kicked her under the table who scowled in return.

Lance sat next to me and I stood up, picking my plate. "Sit here. I'm done anyway."

She stared at my face. "Its fine, I'll sit over there." She pointed to the right side of Charlotte who sat on the other end of the table.

"No, sit here." I urged.

"Really, it's alright—"

She sat stiffly as I handed my plate to the nearest girl with an apron and made my way to the seat next to Charlotte and Darren, Aland on the opposite side.

"Leave them here," I whispered. "Get up and go."

"You're pure evil," Aland said quietly but he was grinning. "Lance is going to kill us all."

"That's the fun part," I grinned with malice and sat up straighter, when suddenly Charlotte picked up her plate and left. Then was Aland, followed by Darren who pulled Lorelle up with him. I was the last one to leave, standing up and pushing my chair under the table. I made my way upstairs to my room and flopped onto my bed, playing with my knife. As I turned it in my hands, my mind went back to Esmeralda's words.

I said 'deal'. I had agreed with her. And if there was one thing an assassin didn't do, it was breaking a promise. That word, 'deal' meant 'I promise you.' I promised I would think about it.

If she had told me this on the first day here, maybe even the second or third I'd tell her to give me the antidote right there so I could get the hell out on the spot, but right now I startled myself with the slightest hesitation. What if I didn't want to go back? I'd be sitting in my own hollow grave if I did that, but what if I hid? No one was a better assassin than I was and I could escape the King's clutches easily.

What was I thinking? Why did I even want to stay?

"You've been around more people for quite a while now," Lorelle said softly. "That may be why you feel different. You know many more people. Before, the only person you had any interaction with was—"

Xavier. Prince Xavier.

I'd always wanted to hide from him because I'd shared such a moment with him. I'd meant every word no matter how much I wanted to tell myself it wasn't true. But I'd done the same thing with Lance.

Of course I was embarrassed and I hated myself for that too, but right now I needed to help Xavier. There was such a large chance that he wouldn't be alive when I returned. I was running out of time.

When I woke up the next morning it wasn't by choice.

"Can't you ever leave me alone?" I groaned, whipping the blanket over my head.

"No," Lance said, shutting the door and walking towards me. "Move over."

I did as I was told but refused to pull the blanket off my head. "Go away."

"What's wrong?"

"Everything."

"Such as?"

"Everything."

"So I take it you don't want to tell me anything?"

"Nothing."

Lance laughed and I pulled off the covers to face him. He was lying with his legs out and his arms behind his head.

"Stop laughing," I ordered. "I'm not that funny."

"You're right, you're not funny. You're absolutely ridiculous. And your hair looks ten times more ridiculous, so I suggest you'd bring the scale down to 'funny' or I won't be the only one laughing."

I felt my face flushing. "It's your fault you woke me up." I combed my fingers through my hair consciously.

"It's your fault you wake up so late."

"Anything you find important to tell me?"

"Nothing except for the fact that you tried to set me up with Demetria the other day."

I grinned into the pillow. "Now that was funny."

"No it wasn't," he flicked my ear.

"You're right, it wasn't funny," I pushed his hand away from my face. "It was absolutely ridiculous," I mocked, sitting up straight. He sat up as well and yawned.

"Speaking of setting up, I saw Darren and Lorelle together a couple of times. Are you behind that too?"

"No, I don't have that much time on my hands." I rolled my eyes. "What were they talking about?"

"I don't know. They left when I came, but you know they are pretty close. They always have been."

"Doesn't he always stick around Charlotte?"

"Yeah they're friends too, but Aland is closer. Darren, Aland, Lorelle, and Charlotte are the perfect group of friends here. They're ridiculous." He flashed me a sweet smile.

"Seems like I'm not the only one then," I laughed.

He smiled. "Though when they were together, she was talking about Esmeralda, which was quite strange."

"Oh? Your grandmother?"

"Yes."

"What else? You must've heard something else." I felt panic surging through my body.

"They were just talking about her and her antidotes. Calm down, Adalia." he squeezed my shoulders, his intelligent green eyes searching.

"I am calm." But I heard my voice waver. They talked about antidotes. That two-faced lying . . . Lorelle lied to me, and she'd told Darren. Pretty soon Darren would tell the other two, and Lance would learn the truth. I suddenly felt strangely aware of Lance's arm around my shoulder.

He couldn't find out.

"Is everything alright?" Lance waved his hand in front of my face.

"Hmm?" I looked up. "I was just thinking."

"You always seem to be lost in your thoughts," Lance sighed, running a half-gloved hand through his hair.

"Isn't thinking a good thing?" I smiled.

"Not all the time. Your hair will turn white before you reach twenty years."

I grinned. "Stop worrying about me." Then I leaped off the bed and walked to the bathroom.

I don't know what to do. Should I take this chance? Should I go ahead and take the antidote, or should I stay here?

Why did I have to think about this situation?

Because if I returned to the castle, I'd have to take Lorelle with me. I would not fail my mission.

I had knives in my boots, in my belt, and in my shirt. Any second I expected Darren or Lorelle to scream my identity and I would be pounced by hundreds of rebels. Even if did I want to stay, which I haven't said I did, I would be found out sooner or later. But how was I going to get Lorelle to go with me?

I couldn't force her.

You're an assassin. You can do anything.

"Adalia, that is not how you bake a cake," Lance scolded me. "Try the pies. What kind of a servant were you?"

"A lousy one." I cringed as I tripped over a stool, dropping the pie. Cream splattered all over the floor. Lance looked as if someone had chopped his finger off.

"My cream pie. . . ."

"I'm Sorry!" I apologized. "I'll clean it up." I bent down, but he stopped me.

"No, it's okay. Just stay away from my cake. I'm going to ice it."

I leaned back against the wall, smirking. "I didn't know you were a baker."

He scowled. "It's a hobby."

Lance had cleared out the kitchen and was making dessert for dinner. I'd helped him make lemon meringue pies—and destroy a ton—and make a cake for one of the Leader's birthday; the gray haired man named Hansen. He iced it and on top, wrote Happy Birthday, Hansen! Thank you for leading us.

"That's very original," I commented, crossing my arms over my chest.

"After destroying all of those pies, you have no say in anything. Get back."

I put my hands up in surrender as he pushed the cake far against the wall, where I wouldn't be able to knock it over. I walked back to him. "Can I help with anything?"

He sighed. "Grab that pie, right over there," he pointed, "and please be careful."

"Okay," I put my hands up again, inching towards the pie. I held it carefully, walking back towards him.

And then suddenly, I had an idea.

I smiled coyly. "Oh, La-ance. . ." I sang. He turned to face me.

"What—" his eyes widened as the pie landed square on his face. I giggled, backing away.

He gasped, wiping cream off his face. "As much as that tasted good, how dare you destroy my pie!" He cleared two holes on his face for his eyes, grabbing another pie. "Get over here right now."

"No!" I shrieked, running across the kitchen. He walked after me, pie-faced, and grabbed my arm, trying to stuff the pie in my face. I ducked and he pinned me against the counter, smirking.

"Smile." Bam! I was pied in the face. Unable to breathe, I sputtered, choking.

"I cannot believe you just did that," I gasped, wiping my eyes. I blushed as I realized how close we were.

"There's more where that came from," he gestured towards the counters stacked with pastries.

I glanced at him, grabbing a towel to clean my face. My eyes flickered to the sweets.

His smile disappeared. "Oh no you don't."

I ducked under his arm and running towards the goods. He lunged after me, but I evaded him, grabbing another pie. Suddenly, he slipped on the mess on the floor, dragging my down with him. I pied him again, but not before he crushed me with his weight.

"Ow," I groaned. He sat up, pie crust still on his face, whole. He shook his hair, bits of pie flying everywhere. I giggled. "Well aren't you a mess."

"Oh I'm the mess?" He took a glob of pie off his cheek and rubbed it all over my face as I screamed curses at him.

"You'll pay for that," I gasped. I punched his shoulder as he laughed harder, leaning against the wall. The place was a mess, pie covering our hands, faces, clothes, and the floor and walls.

"Three pies wasted. We're even," he laughed. I saw his green eyes shining from the sockets of his pie-face. I tried to stand up, only to slip and fall to the ground again. We laughed till our stomach's ached.

"I can't breathe," I croaked. "Okay, I'll get up first." I tried again. I succeeded, but trying to help him up was the mistake I made. We toppled to the floor and I shrieked.

Suddenly, the door swung open. "What's all the commotion—" Anna, who was in charge of the kitchen, screamed. "What a mess!" she cried. I glanced at Lance who was trying not to laugh.

"Would you like to join us?" he offered from the floor.

She pursed her lips, furious.

"I cannot believe we're in charge of cleaning the bathrooms," I groaned, "just for having a bit of fun."

"We did destroy the kitchen," he pointed out. He still smelled like meringue, even though we were all cleaned up.

"Do you have enough pies for everyone?"

"With the cake? More than enough," he assured me, dragging a mop on the floor. "This looks like your hair in the morning."

I scowled at him as he pointed at the mop and laughed at his own joke. "Ha-ha."

"Try it on," he said, raising the dripping mop.

"Don't you dare!" I yelled.

"This is what I call payback for having me banned from the kitchen for a month."

"You deserve the ban," I scowled. "I'll push you in Joseph's toilet if you don't back off." I raised the toilet brush in my hand. Lance gagged, dropping the mop.

"I surrender, my Queen."

I grinned victoriously.

I held up my sword and went first. He parried my blow and threw an uppercut which I blocked and brought the flat edge on his arm. He dodged and hit my hip.

"Concentrate," he frowned. "What's gotten into you?"

Our fight was like a little dance. "If you want me to put my all in it, I'll hurt you."

"Are you sure about that?" Lance grinned.

"Positive."

"Be my guest."

In a flash my sword was out and by the time he realized it he was on the floor, clutching his arm. My sword was at his throat.

"Sorry," I said, reaching out to pull him up.

"No need to apologize," he said, grabbing my hand and standing close. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Do you think that a girl can't fight?" I put a hand on my hip.

"I think you can't fight," he corrected with a teasing smirk, twirling the sword in his hand.

"You know, you're very arrogant for someone who just lost a duel to me," I scrunched up my nose in distaste.

His grin just got larger, "I never lost." In a split second, his leg was under mine and I was on the floor, the breath whooshing out of my lungs. He had his sword at my throat. In rage, I brought my foot up, catching his fingers which were twisted around the hilt. He gasped and dropped his sword which landed hard on my stomach. I yanked it off and leaped to my feet, setting the blade back at his neck.

"I think," he muttered, shaking his head, "you might have just broken my fingers."

"I can battle you single handedly with a fractured fist. Don't fret, dear Lance. I won't tell anyone you've lost to a girl," I said. "No doubt people will find out anyway."

"It's not the girl part, it's the you part."

"What about me?" I took a step back, cautiously.

"Nothing really, except the fact that when I first met you, you were about to be trampled to death by a horse." I waited for him to continue. "In your twelve days here, you've changed tremendously. From the first day since you hid behind me like a newborn kitten to now, where you're beating me up like an expert swordsman."

"What's your point?"

"I said it. Figure it out yourself."

"So you don't like me?" I blurted the words out but suddenly I wished I could erase it, from his memory, from my thoughts my tongue and ears.

"Don't like you?" He grinned, still lying on his back, propped up on his elbows. "What's there not to like about you? You're arrogant, rude, obnoxious, whiny, disrespectful, brave, sweet, kind, smart, sensitive, and just plain ridiculous. Everyone should like you, but I guess everyone is not like me."

I stared at his grinning face, wide eyed and slightly terrified. "And you're implying?" I asked, but my voice didn't come out as strong as I expected.

"That no one likes you. Now will you help me up? I'm feeling the slightest bit annoyed speaking to you from the ground."

I stared at his face.

"You're staring again," he noted. I frowned.

"Are we finished?" I asked.

He rolled his eyes, letting go of my hand, "of course."

I don't want to leave.

The words shocked me and I had to sit on the chair downstairs, Lance and Lorelle beside me. I really don't. I can't leave them.

What were you here for? My mind screamed. Xavier! It's him, you're losing him!

Xavier. The only reason I was as sane as I was. Xavier kept me going.

What do you want, Adalia? Get Xavier back and never see Lorelle or Lance, Charlotte, Aland and Darren again, or, stay here forever and be hunted down by the King? And lose Xavier forever?

I couldn't lose Xavier.

I watched Lance talk to Lorelle and found myself smiling. They were my friends.

I had come for Xavier, and I was an assassin. Why would I even think about staying?

A sick feeling clenched my gut. The sun was setting.

"Who is it going to be?" I whispered to myself, and Lance looked at me with a warm smile.

"Did you say something, Adalia?"

Lance's grip was still tight around my arm, but as I relaxed he loosened his grip and slowly let go. I was clutching edge of the roof, a sinking feeling dropping in my stomach.

"Don't let go," I managed to choke out.

His grip tightened around my waist. "Don't worry; I'm not going to let you die."

"No." I said to Lance with a gulp. "No I didn't."

"If you were gone," I said so quietly I didn't think Xavier would hear me, "I'd be lonely."

He didn't say anything for a few seconds so I doubted he'd heard me. It was a slight relief. Here I was; making the same mistake I'd made years ago. I was spilling my guts out to Xavier.

"So would I," I heard him say.

"Adalia, are you sure you're alright?" Lance asked.

I almost replied, but I stopped just in time. I made a small sound in the back of my throat.

"Tell me."

I got to my feet, throwing a fistful of grass in his face. I started to walk away.

He laughed. "Do I have that much of an effect on you?"

"You look as if you've seen a ghost." Lance gently nudged my shoulder.

"I think I might have," I said quietly. "If you'd call a memory a ghost."

"Excuse me?" Xavier raised an eyebrow.

A blush crept up my cheeks. He wasn't supposed to hear that.

"You're red again." Xavier grinned. "Do I have that much of an effect on you?"

"I think I'm going to be sick." I stood up, knocking the chair over. How could they be so similar, yet so different?

Lorelle stood up too, along with a confused looking Lance.

"Something doesn't feel right," I whispered quietly. "I need to be alone." I walked away from them and heard Lance sigh.

"I wish I knew what was going on in her head."

"Trust me, you don't want that wish," Lorelle replied, but no one followed me.

It was dark outside. One hour to midnight.

"Make up your mind," I whispered to myself, clutching the edge of the roof; Lance's secret spot. "Make up your mind." I was wearing black. All black. "You're an assassin, Adalia. This life isn't meant for you." My crossbow was clutched in my hand in case of a surprise attack. I thought back towards the pie incident in the kitchen and felt my chest ache.

Suddenly, I heard noises. Footsteps and urgent whispers.

"You swore to me!" a female voice hissed, coming from below.

"I know, I'm so sorry," a male voice said, and I recognized both immediately.

"I promised her!" Lorelle said, her voice rising. "And now you've gone and ruined everything."

"Aland is my friend," Darren said quietly.

"And you're mine, so how could you do this?"

I looked over the edge to find the two dark figures standing in the balcony. Suddenly, another dark shape moved towards them.

"You?" Lorelle hissed. "What're you doing here?"

"I heard Aland and Charlotte talking. You'll need to pay me to keep quiet now." The cool voice belonged to Demetria. I held in a breath.

"Now you've done it," I heard Lorelle's panicked voice. "Darren, how could you?"

My jaw was set. It had been a matter of time. They all knew. All of them knew who I was, except Lance.

I felt hatred boil inside me. I trusted Lorelle. I trusted her. I wanted to hurt her, to teach her a lesson.

Kill all who are a threat to your identity. X is almost dead. Don't risk it. And that means everyone.

I raised my crossbow, aiming it straight at Lorelle's head. One shot and she'd be dead.

"Let go," I urged myself. "Do it. Get it over with." I closed my eyes and pointed, taking a deep breath. And I pulled the trigger.

Or at least I tried to, because when I opened my eyes she was still alive and moving, but Darren had seen my movement. I backed away from the edge.

"There's someone there," Darren said. I heard moving footsteps and my breath caught in my throat.

No time to think. I was done for. Now, there were no more choices. I ran, throwing the door open and pushed past Lance who was just about to enter. He slammed against the wall and called my name, but I ignored him.

Antidote, antidote, antidote. That's all I was thinking. I hated myself.

For the first time in my life, I'd hesitated. The Assassin hadn't assassinated.

FIFTEEN

Get to Esmeralda. That was my main goal. I was running like a madwoman, pushing past everything. Luckily, most of the people were asleep.

I slipped down the trapdoor and climbed down the ladder, panting as I ran.

"Esmeralda," I croaked, "give it to me."

She looked up, a hazel liquid in her hand. There was only disappointment in her eyes.

"I thought you wouldn't show up," she whispered, standing up. "I had a little hope, a little faith. . . ."

"It didn't work," I pleaded. "I have no choice anymore. They all know. Give it to me."

I reached for it and she didn't move. Her eyes were sad. I felt something stir in my chest. I was aching.

Guilt. You're feeling guilt, but you'll be feeling hell if you don't get out of there.

The antidote in my hand gave me strength and power. I turned around to leave, but Esmeralda grabbed my arm. She was surprisingly strong for a woman her age. I looked over my shoulder at her face, my chest rising and falling heavily.

"Take this," she whispered, slipping a scarlet envelope in my hand. "Go. Hurry. Get out of here!"

I hurled myself through the door and raced up the ladder, through the trapdoor, past Lance and Demetria, and up the stairs like a flash of lighting.

"What's going on?" I heard Lance yell.

"Shut up!" Demetria yelled in response. "We're dead, and so is she!"

I threw open my weapon drawer, feeling for knives. I pulled one out and stuck it in my belt. As I felt for another one, something crumpled in my hand. I pulled it out and jumped to the window, using the moonlight to read the paper.

X is as good as dead. Only mission: bring hostage. Burn this.

I was shaking. From fear, or I didn't know. No antidote? Xavier was as good as dead? I slipped my legs out of the window, staring at the long drop below. My stomach twisted.

No time to be afraid now. Jump.

I turned to look behind me, one last look at Lance who had stepped into my room. He ran towards me, grabbing my arm.

"Please tell me it's not true," he panted. "Tell me this is all some joke."

"Lance," I whispered, peeling his hand off, "I'm so sorry."

He was so confused, his green eyes wide.

"Forgive me." I pushed him.

"You have to tell me what this is." He eyed the vial in my hand as I strapped it to my waist. "What are you doing with that?"

"Lance, please let go of me—" I tried to look away, but he turned my face gently so I would look at him.

"Who are you?"

"Forget about me," I said, pushing him with all the strength my wounded heart—and hands—could muster.

"I can't." He hesitated, and my stomach dropped. He was going to say it. "I lo—"

"Stop," I cut him off, my vision suddenly blurry, and pushed myself off.

The drop was long, but I landed perfectly, tilting forward just a bit so my fall could be broken by rolling in the grass.

There was no time to waste. I checked the antidote which was safely tucked into my shirt, and felt acid rise up my throat.

X is as good as dead. Bring hostage.

I had to bring Lorelle. I couldn't stay here, and I couldn't go back without a reasonable explanation for my failure.

I made my way towards the stables, chest heaving. I grabbed the reigns of the first horse I saw, knocking out the stable boy. The saddle was already set and I jumped on, turning the horse around. I needed Lorelle.

The horse galloped to the front of the base where Aland and Darren were standing, weapons loaded.

"Get down from the horse now," Darren ordered. Lorelle appeared from behind him, pulling his arm.

"Don't hurt her, please," she begged. Darren bit his lip, his eyes fierce. He wasn't going to back down without a fight, and I admired him for that. Lorelle stood panic-stricken, trying to make silent communication with me. I'd heard tales of mind-readers for that was one of the skills of an assassin, but I simply refused to understand what she wanted to say. I already knew.

"Get off the horse and we won't hurt you."

Slowly, I slid off.

A plan. I need a plan.

"I want to go home," I said softly.

"You're not fooling anyone, Assassin," Aland said. Charlotte stepped in front of him, holding the wooden flintlock pistol. Her eyes were bright and fierce, her red hair flaming.

Where was Lance?

The image of his face before I'd taken that jump was unbearable. Of course I cared, but I had a duty. And my duty always came first.

"I need someone," I said to them. "I'll get out of here and I'll never come back, but that person has to be willing to go with me." Darren pulled Lorelle back, gripping her arm. There was no way I could take her with me. She was guarded. They wouldn't hesitate to shoot me down if I moved towards her.

I stared at Lorelle. I knew she knew and she knew I knew and we both knew we couldn't.

"I need. . ." I trailed off, straightening my back. I swallowed.

"Say it," Demetria hissed. "Say it, traitor." Charlotte's green eyes burned holes through my skin. I looked straight at Lorelle. The Leader's daughter.

And then I changed my mind. That sudden rustle where I felt that movement, the way a fly knows right when you're about to swat it. I whipped around, grabbing him by the arm and twisting it around his back.

"Lance," I whispered. "You're the Leader's son."