“So,” Clove smiled into the darkness, a smirking, evil kind of smile, “Where’s the party tonight?”
“Oh, Somewhere down the road… maybe on the palace dance floor?” replied a throaty, male voice.
“Well then, it’s a good thing I can dance.”
The voice was monotone, not betraying any emotion, even as it said, “Your victim is Prince Alec.”
And then the man behind the voice ended their call, leaving Clove to deal with her newest assignment however she pleased. She knew this specific one would have to be messy, it might start a few wars and perhaps cause the kingdom to revolt, go into chaos, etc etc. That was fine, though. Clove was a natural rule breaker.
Eventually, she decided she wasn’t going to think about it. Instead, she closed her eyes, leaned back in bed, and fell into her nightmarish sleep.
The next morning, she found herself shuffling around in her only dress. It had an a-line cut, and the deep red stood in vivid contrast to her wavy brown hair, which she had braided across one shoulder. Of course, the dress was rather impractical, considering what she was about to do, but it was her only way of getting into the ball. Then again, if she was going to fight in a dress, she would definitely choose this one. There was a slit in the side, so her legs had a good range of motion, and the sleeves were rather dreamy and made of tule, so they didn't get in her way either. But the most important part, there were hidden weapons all over it. Behind the flower embroidered sash, there were throwing stars. Attached to her leg, her favourite dagger, and hidden carefully in the back, a sword.
She put on a pair of plain maroon flats to go with her dress, and then she started walking. To the palace. Oh god, she remembered how she’d swore to herself she’d never return, and she was considering turning back, going into hiding, suicide, anything that would keep her away from the palace.
Why was she so desperate to stay away from the glittering golden castle? Well, where there was a castle, there was royalty, and her connection to this royalty was the main reason this would be so messy.
But she couldn’t turn back, or else the voice would have her dead before sunset. She didn’t know his name, and she honestly didn’t want to. It didn’t matter. At least, that was what she told herself.
She shut down her thoughts, then, because it was so much easier to be numb, and next thing she knew she was being greeted by a palace guard and then she was staring around an all too familiar ballroom, decorated for a very special occasion: Prince Alec’s last Birthday. Of course, none of these people, not the king, not the queen, and definitely not the prince, knew it would be his last.
Clove scanned the room, her eyes falling on her prey. She held her head up, trying to stick to the plan she’d come up with. Poison his wine, just poison it, he doesn’t need to see you, he wouldn’t want to see you, he’s going to fall apart if he sees you, make this easier for both of you, please Clove, please don’t let him see you.
But as she stared at the pale-skinned, brown-haired, brown-eyed boy—no, he was a man now— her heart dropped and she wanted to run, run far away and keep him safe from her. Wasn’t that why she’d left?
She stopped, watching him laugh and hiccup, his clothes immaculate and his hair neatly gelled, and told herself not to approach, she couldn’t do this to him, she couldn’t. But then he turned, and he saw her, and a wave of confusion crossed his face as he held her eyes. He glanced at the goblet in his hand, his brow furrowing, and he looked back up at her and Clove knew she should move, run, lead him away, kill him while she still could, but she was rooted in place, her legs shaking, her hand hovering over the hilt of her knife.
And she only remembered how to run when Prince Alec took a few cautious steps toward her. She’d thought she could outrun him, but the room was crowded and he was faster than she’d thought. He caught up to her within seconds, wrapping his hand around her forearm.
He was paler than usual like he’d seen a ghost. He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe she was in front of him.
“Clove?” he breathed, shaking his head again. “No— I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”
His grip tightened around her arm as if making sure she was real. “What— I— How?”
“Brother, get your hand off of me,” Clove growled. Maybe, just maybe, she could still fix this. Maybe she could save him. Maybe she could kill him.
He shook his head, glancing around, as if only now realizing how many people could be eavesdropping. He started walking, then, pulling her along behind him.
“Alec, I mean it, let go of me,” Clove repeated, the fight in her fading by the second. “Seriously, I’m not safe for you.”
Alec didn’t listen. He kept pulling her along until she found herself in his bedroom.
“How?” asked again, staring into her eyes. “How— how are you here? You’re dead.”
Clove shuffled her feet. “It’s a long story.”
“You conned me into thinking you were dead for 11 months. I have time!”
He wobbled a bit as he spoke, his words slurring together.
“You’re really drunk right now,” she told him, trying to figure out what to do. He wasn’t supposed to see her. HE WASN’T GODDAMN SUPPOSED TO SEE HER!
“No, I’m not,” he hiccuped. “You’re just blurry.”
Now it was her turn to shake her head, “Look, Alec, I have to go. It’s not safe for you to be around me.”
“I’ll decide what’s safe for me, thanks. Start talking.”
“You don’t get it.”
“Yeah, I don’t. My little sister faked her suicide and won’t give me an explanation. You’re not leaving, Clove, not until you tell me where in hell you’ve been.”
“Stop.”
“No, tell me what— hiccup— what happened.”
“Alec, stop, please.”
She could feel the tears welling in her eyes, turning the drunk boy in front of her into nothing but blobs of colour.
“You can’t just—”
“STOP! YOU’RE NOT LISTENING!” her tears spilt over. “I have to kill you, you idiot. I have to kill you or else he’ll kill me.”
She curled up on the floor, her hands pressed against her eyes, shaking, and Alec became noticeably silent. She didn’t want to see his face as the revelation sank in. Didn’t want to see the hurt or betrayal in his eyes.
But then his warm hands wrapped around her wrists, pulling her hands away from her face. He was kneeling in front of her, looking just like he had when he was about to give her some sort of heart-to-heart.
“What are you waiting for, then?” he asked with a ghost of a smile on his face.
“I can’t, you know I can’t do it,” she sobbed.
“Why not?”
She shook her head. He was drunk, he didn’t know what he was saying.
“Why not, Clove?”
He was cupping her chin, now, trying to force her to keep eye contact with him. She shook her head again, her breath coming in short gasps. He pulled her against his chest, letting her breathe in the scent of his cologne and hear his heartbeat calmly. Then he let her go, pulling her to her feet. An idea struck her head, an easy way out that she was willing to take. She pulled out her dagger, gripping it firmly in her hand, her knuckles white.
Alec’s sad, sad smile returned to his face. “Just— can you tell me what you’ve been up to?”
She decided that he deserved that small piece of information, considering what she was about to do. “I’m an assassin, Alec. I’ve been murdering people in their sleep.”
That seemed to knock him back a step. Good, she thought, poising the knife. A million emotions passed through Alec’s face, ending with shock and anger when she turned the knife and stabbed it into her own gut.
A gurgled scream escaped her lips as she pushed it deeper, and then she pulled it out with the last of her strength, before collapsing on the ground, blood pooling around her.
Alec let out a very un-princely stream of words. “GOD DAMN IT CLOVE! You stay awake, you hear me?! Don’t you dare close your eyes! Please! Come on!”
He ripped his shirt off, pressing the starched white fabric against the gash in her side, trying rather desperately to stop the blood.
“God, god what do I do,” Alec hated how fuzzy his head was, hated how he couldn’t think. He pushed himself up and grabbed the phone on his bedside table.
He called the medic, he told her to come alone and not tell anyone where she was. He ran his hands desperately through his hair, kneeling beside Clove once again.
“Why do you always have to play hero?” He breathed, the words barely there. “Don’t you understand it’s going to get you killed?!”
Clove didn’t couldn’t reply. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes squeezed shut, and the shirt wrapping her side was almost completely soaked through with her blood.
And then the medic was there, and she was cutting away Clove’s dress and applying bandages and creams and strange-smelling liquids, while Alec stood to the side, still shirtless, and watched. He was pretty sure he was going into shock, his drunk mind not being able to take any more. But he still managed to get out a few words when the medic was about to leave. He asked ordered her not to tell anyone about Clove, and to check in again when she needed to. He made it clear Clove was not getting out of his sight, meaning she’d be sleeping in his bedroom that night.
When the medic was gone, he stared at the white pill she’d given him. He barely thought about it as he swallowed the thing dry, before gently lifting up Clove from the floor, one arm under her knees and the other under her neck. He cradled her slightly, before laying her on his bed. He tucked her in, pulling the quilt up to her chin.
And then, and only then, did he decide to wash the blood off his chest and hands. As the water ran down his face, he thought about what a miracle it was. Clove was basically back from the dead! He’d thought she was gone, gone forever and it was all his fault because he couldn’t make her believe she mattered. So, so much. To him.
But now, here she was, sauntering up to him on his birthday and stabbing herself to save him because she trusted no one and was a prisoner to her own desires and problems. Of course, she faked her death. Of course, she became an assassin. Honestly, Alec didn’t know why he was even surprised.
He dressed in his silk pyjama bottoms, and rolled into the opposite side of the bed, keeping as much distance between him and Clove as possible. Giving her space. And then, he closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep, afraid of nothing more than the idea that Clove might be gone when morning came.
CRASH! Alec shot up, staring around the room. Dawn light seeped in through the window, and the prince rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. Movement, in the corner of his eye. He turned but saw no one. And yet…
“GUARDS!” He yelled, waking up Clove, who was still groggy on the heavy sedative she’d been given. He gripped her hand, trying to assure her everything was fine. “GUARDS!”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said a throaty voice, from the shadows. Clove flinched, shivering. She moaned and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Who goes there?” asked a uniformed soldier, finally bursting into the room. Clove whispered something, and Alec had to lean in to hear her.
“Supervisor,” she’d said.
“Kill the intruder.”
Alec could barely recognise his voice and was surprised by the order, but he didn’t take it back. Three more soldiers swept into the room, and as Alec held his sister close, the sound of gunshots filled the room.
“Done, my liege,” said a soldier.
Alec nodded, gesturing for the body to be taken away. Two of the guards carted the man behind the Voice away, while the other two did a final sweep of the bedroom. And once they were gone too, Alec kept one arm wrapped around Clove, even when she’d fallen asleep. He was tempted to follow her lead when two last visitors appeared in the doorway.
“Mother,” Alec sat up. “Father.”
By way of reply, they gaped at the unconscious figure lying next to him, at their supposedly dead daughter.
“Clove?” They breathed as one, and Alec knew he was in for one heck of a day.
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