Chapter 5

Ash watches his father paces around the room. He's still furious that he had allowed Aria to go on a death mission. Finally unable to take it, he blurts out, "She's your best assassin, and you left her to die."

"Ash."

The one word told him that he had to step carefully. Keeping his mouth shut, he waits for the older man to speak.

"Aria is a strong girl," he says at last. "I know you care for her, but you must know that all your feelings will lead to nothing. In the end, you must marry a princess or someone your mother deems worthy. No one will ever accept an assassin. Much less the King of Assassins."

Ash looks away. It wasn't that he didn't know the facts. He simply chose to ignore them, despite hearing them from both his parents on a regular basis. "That doesn't matter to me."

"And what about her?" The King looks at him, eyes flashing. "Do you think she'd want to live a life trapped in this palace? She was never made to be Queen. She's a fighter, not a ruler. If you cared about her at all, you will let her go."

"Fine, let's say I don't marry her. It doesn't mean I can sit and watch her die," Ash argues. "Father, please, call her back before she makes it to the rebels."

His father frowns. "Do you have so little faith in our Wraith?"

"No, but you're sending her into a den of snakes and expecting her to come out unscathed."

"Not unscathed," the King muses. "But she knew the dangers of the job. Besides, there's a method to my madness, my dear boy. Now, since we're on the topic of queens, don't you think it should be time for you to choose a wife?"

Ash grimaces. "Father-"

"I know. It's scary and pressuring, but it needs to be done. The royal family of Iliana is coming tomorrow. I'd you to meet her and her parents." The King rises and pats Ash on the shoulder. "Give others a chance. Besides, we need allies. There's more happening here than just the rebels."

"But-"

"If not for me, then do it for the kingdom."

Ash falls silent at that line. It was a subtle reminder. Duty before self.

"Yes, Father," he finally says, head bowed.

The king smiles. "Good. Make me proud, son."

I don't think that's possible.

. . .

A sigh escapes Ash's lips, catching the attention of his friend.

"What's wrong, Highness?"

"Really, Gus?"

Gus laughs. "Fine. What's wrong, Ash?"

Shrugging, Ash turns away and stares out at the garden again.

"So, what exactly is so interesting about the garden now?" Gus asks. "Not that it isn't interesting of course, but you've been looking at it for the past fifteen minutes. I simply want to see what's so fascinating about it. Is it the leaves on that bush? I think it might be moving a bit strangely. No wait, it's moving like a leaf. Don't mind me."

"Gus," Ash says with a laugh. "You can stop being an idiot now."

"Sorry, it's a full-time occupation." He grins. "Now, tell me what's wrong?"

"Father wants me to marry," Ash mutters.

"Ah." Gus gives him a pitying glance. "Which lucky girl is he bringing this time?"

"The princess of Iliana."

His friend tenses. "Her?"

The note of incredulity in Gus's voice causes Ash to turn away from the window. "What about her?"

"Oh, nothing at all." Gus smiles and Ash wonders if he imagined the reaction. "There are certainly worse people to marry. Everyone says that she is extraordinarily beautiful. Of course, the only person you have eyes for is that assassin."

Ash rolls his eyes. "That obvious?"

"I'm your best friend." He sounds almost offended. "Even if you weren't, I would have noticed. You go all mushy when it comes to her."

Laughing, Ash shakes his head. "I'm surprised that Father wants an alliance with Iliana. They're very tolerant of magic, unlike him."

"I never understood why the King hates magic. He has a whole army of witches, yet he won't tolerate them if they don't serve him." Gus frowns. "I'm sick and tired of this war. He never even gave a real explanation as to why we're fighting Armana. Other than the fact that they're ruled by witches that is."

Ash leans against a wall, his eyes narrowing. "You'll get yourself killed if someone hears you."

His friend lets out a derisive snort. "Just stating my thoughts. After all, haven't you ever wondered why we're at war with a nation that seems to have done nothing to us?"

Yes.

"No. I trust his judgment," Ash says calmly. He throws an arm around Gus's shoulders. "I'm bored. Let's spar."

The uneasy look on Gus's features slowly fades away. "I'm going to beat your royal arse into the ground," he teases.

"Whatever you say," Ash replies, laughing.

"You know it's true!"

Ash smiles at him, but his eyes never meet Gus's. He knows that if he did, he wouldn't be able to hide any of the sadness and confusion from the one person that has been by his side all his life.

. . .

"Your Highness?"

The timid voice of the maid makes Ash freeze. "Yes?"

"Your father wishes for you to be ready to welcome the royal family of Iliana," the girl says quietly as she enters Ash's room. 

Turning, the prince watches her.

He can't help but think that she looks exactly as her voice leads her out to be. Tiny, with large doe eyes that didn't seem to dare look into his directly. She stands, clutching a pile of clothes, which Ash assumes to be the outfit his mother had deemed okay to wear. 

"You going to give those to me?" Ash asks with a grin.

The girl startles. "Oh, right. Sorry, Your Highness."

She offers them out to him, flinching when their fingers accidentally brush.

"I can dress myself," Ash says softly, wanting nothing more than to be out of her presence. He didn't enjoy the countless reminders in his life that told him he was someone to be feared. Some would call him lucky to be born into his life, but they weren't the ones living it.

Blushing, the maid bows her head. "Of course, Your Highness."

Ash turns away, listening to the sound of her footsteps grow distant, and a moment later, the door shuts. 

Once she's gone, he slumps on his bed, running a hand through his hair. The clothes lay next to him in a messy pile. For some reason, that makes it suddenly more bearable for him to change into them.

Despite knowing that his father was not one to wait, Ash lays on his bed for a while, only getting up once someone knocks on the door, announcing that the meeting was starting in ten minutes.

The reminder makes him groan, and he quickly gets ready, cursing at the number of buttons on the shirt. 

As he exits the room, he throws on his jacket, not bothering to check in the mirror. "I'm so dead," Ash mutters under his breath rushing past the startled guard at the door.

"Your Highness-"

"Hey, Lance," Ash says, not looking back. "Do you know where my mother is?"

"I believe she's with your father in the throne room," Lance replies, hurrying after him. Their footsteps echo down the quiet hall. "Did you even bother to fix your hair?"

"Um, no? I don't think Father will care much." Ash sighs. "I suppose Mother will. Is it really that bad?"

"Might get you a scolding, but that's a regular occurrence," his guard teases, an affectionate smile gracing his features. 

"Haha, very funny." Coming to a stop, Ash spins around. "Can you fix it?"

"Does it look I'm here to be your nanny?" Lance asks with a sigh. He reaches out and carefully brushes the hair out of Ash's eyes. "Why did you even wait until the last minute to get ready? You know how your father values punctuality."

"I'm not late," the prince says, his nose scrunching as his shifting hair brushes across his skin. "Are you done yet?"

"Not my fault your hair's a mess." Lance gives him a pointed look before backing away. "It's still messy but it looks like you purposely made it messy, and not like you woke up three seconds ago."

Ash chuckles before continuing on his hurried journey to the throne room. "Why is this castle so big? Also, where are all the servants?"

"They're all working in the kitchens or working on the guest rooms." 

"Ah." The prince turns one last corner, heaving out a sigh of relief at the large doors. He pauses for a moment, takes a deep breath, and squares his shoulders. A practiced smile emerges, the last piece of the perfect picture.

He glances over his shoulder once at his guard who nods back at him. 

The smile turns into a real one, and when Ash strides into the room, no one would ever doubt that he was anyone other than the crown prince.