Kennedy (Council Assassins #19)

Chapter Nineteen

Ariella

The early morning air whips around us as we ride toward Meridian after traveling through the night, my thighs aching from hours in the saddle. I’d forgotten how much I despise horses, and I’ve never even traveled on one so far before. This is just pure torture. But Caspian insisted this would be faster, and for once, I didn’t argue.

My eyes drift to a group of people on the open path we approach. There's a few walking across the bridge that passes over the river, and I immediately sense something off about them. Their movements are erratic, jerky, like puppets with tangled strings. One man stumbles past, his eyes unfocused and skin an unnatural shade of gray. He mutters to himself, words I can’t quite catch, but the cadence is wrong—too fast and desperate.

“You see that?”

Caspian’s voice is low as he guides his horse closer to mine.

I nod, watching another group of travelers as I subtly tug on my psionic strand and feel around them. I wince at the wrongness of their essence. It feels empty somehow, and utterly abhorrent. But I don’t need to think very hard to know what’s going on. The consequences of the balance are getting worse.

The morning sun does nothing to warm the chill that settles in my bones. I’m unsure of why I didn’t anticipate the imbalance affecting people, too. Essence exists in the land and elements first, but eventually flows into the people who weave it. The balance must be so off in this part of the realm that it’s now spreading and attacking the essence in bodies.

Gavriel groans behind us for what must be the hundredth time. “Are we almost there? This saddle is trying to kill me.”

I’m so fucking close to flinging my blade at him—aside from Isolde, I don’t believe I’ve ever despised someone so much. Especially as he still expects me to just remain in Meridian when we’re done searching around. Fucking fool.

“Since when do you complain this much? Are you not a soldier?”

Caspian asks, throwing a raised brow over his shoulder.

I ignore their banter as the first hints of salty air reach my nose. Meridian is the closest city to Valoria, and after more than twelve hours of riding, I expect us to be within the city limits soon. It’s not long before the road curves, and the vast expanse of the Ebelan Ocean spreads before us, endless blue stretching to meet the horizon. My breath catches.

I’ve read about the oceans. Seen paintings. Heard vague descriptions from listening to random conversations in Valoria. But nothing prepared me for this.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I’ve dismounted and walked toward the top of the hill. The city of Meridian sprawls below, a web of white stone buildings that glint like pearls under the afternoon sun. Narrow streets weave between them, bustling with life even from this distance. Vibrant market canopies in shades of red, gold, and green create splashes of color, while thin spirals of smoke rise leisurely from chimneys.

Beyond the city, the Ebelan Ocean stretches out in shimmering shades of blue, so vast and endless it feels like it could swallow the horizon—possibly the whole damn realm. Short waves catch the sunlight, while a few distant ships appear as mere specks against the measureless expanse.

“First time seeing the ocean?”

Caspian asks, appearing at my side.

“Is it that obvious?”

I catch his eye before he focuses on the view before us.

He smiles but doesn’t tease, and I find myself smiling back. I’ve spent my entire life absorbed in one goal: kill the king. I never paused my endless rage to consider what else might exist beyond the boundaries of Valoria. What other wonders I might have missed while plotting my revenge.

“I’ll take the horses to the stables,”

he says after a moment. “Take your time.”

He gives me no opportunity to respond before guiding the horses just below the top of the hill, where the stables sit pristine and lonely.

I should protest—we have work to do. But I can’t tear my eyes away from the endless blue. A few more minutes won’t hurt.

The ocean stretches beyond the horizon, unbroken and alive, a restless mirror of the bright blue sky. My breath stalls at the sheer vastness of it. I catch the glint of a ship in the distance and cringe inwardly. I do not fear much, but after seeing the ocean myself, I do not think I could travel through it—I’d be a constant mess, worrying that the water might swallow me whole.

The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore and docks carries up the hill, and my eyes slide shut as I allow the soft sounds to calm the pressure pushing against my chest wall.

It’s overwhelming, this immensity, this idea of boundless freedom that I’ve never known. I thrive from having the answers and abiding by a routine, but I get the sense that it would be so freeing to just dive into the water and allow it to carry my body wherever it sees fit. It’s only now that I realize that I want to let go. I need something—or someone—to take control of my body so that I may exist without the weight of everyone else’s decisions for once in my fucking life.

I don’t know if that revelation terrifies me, or if I’d truly be willing to relinquish control.

Scanning the city below, I watch the docks as they are a chaotic maze of wooden piers and shouting merchants. Even from here, the air is thick with the smell of fish, spices, and tar.

When Caspian returns, I follow him down the large hill and into the city proper. Everything hums with life, a mix of sun-bleached walls and dark brick buildings pressed close together. Fishing nets hang to dry, and the scent of saltwater blends with olive oil and spices. Boats painted in vibrant hues bob gently in the harbor, their masts swaying against the breeze. The streets are narrow and winding, buildings pressed close together with laundry strung between them. But unlike Valoria, where people scatter at the sight of my silver hair, the residents here merely stare. Some whisper with wide eyes, but there’s more curiosity than fear in their gazes.

“I think they like you,”

Caspian observes after leaning over to speak against my ear.

Something intense snakes down my spine, and I dampen my reaction, instead forcing a smirk as I snort. “Give it time.”

My stomach growls, reminding me we haven’t eaten since before leaving the castle. I didn’t care to bring any food as the trip here is short, but I may be regretting it just a little now as I’m quite hungry. A nearby stall is selling some kind of fried fish that makes my mouth water, and my feet saunter over before I can stop them. I reach for a pouch of coins in my pack—still well-stocked from years of assignments and the competition winnings. I’ve never been one for luxuries, preferring to save my earnings for weapons and practical necessities.

“Three,”

I tell the vendor as I step up to the stall and drop coppers into his weathered palm. His eyes scrutinize the color of my hair, but he wisely doesn’t comment.

I hand Caspian his cup before tossing the other one over my shoulder to a mumbling guard. So ungrateful.

I pinch a piece of fish, not caring to ask what it is before dropping it into my mouth. I moan from the flavor bursting over my taste buds, eliciting looks from more than just the prince. I wink at him, ignoring his chuckle before considering the city once more.

“Where do we start?”

Gavriel asks around a mouthful of fish. He’s still shifting frequently, looking more on edge with each passing hour. We’re all exhausted, it seems.

They both turn to me with expectant gazes. I wipe grease from my fingers, considering. “The guild first. Ally claimed she was from there, so I want to find out what they know.”

I scan the busy street, focusing on finding any sign of the guild. I’m told the one in Meridian is far more secretive than the one in Valoria, and I doubt locals know what building it is. We walk for a while as I search and Caspian attempts to recall anything he knows about the city's politics.

Something catches my eye. “It’s that one,”

I mutter, gesturing to a narrow three-story structure wedged between what appears to be a dress shop and an armory. Interesting placement.

Dark green vines climb the brick facade, while weather-worn wooden signs swing above multiple shop entrances. The building looks unremarkable, which I suppose is the point. It is also quite small, which was unexpected—I assume there’s hidden areas of the guild, likely underground, unless they have no room for training.

“How can you tell?”

Caspian questions in a thoughtful tone, stepping closer until his arm brushes mine.

I roll my eyes. “The sigil.”

I point to a barely visible mark etched into the cornerstone—three crossed daggers. “Every guild has one, though it’s never mentioned to outsiders.”

We cross the street, and I am quite thankful for my appearance at the moment; the crowd is so thick, every person touches another, but they each have the sense to move from my path. Sometimes it’s pleasing to be me.

The strong scent of fish and salt follows us as we enter the building through a plain wooden door.

The interior is insignificant, dimly lit and musty, with shelves of ordinary merchandise lining the walls. Why the secrecy? It doesn’t make sense to me. A young woman sits behind a wooden counter, methodically polishing what appears to be a decorative blade. She doesn’t look up.

“We’re closed,”

she mutters, her tone dry and flat. I have a feeling they’re always closed.

I smirk and straighten until my chest pushes out. “Even for fellow guild members?”

Her eyes snap to mine, widening as her jaw loosens. “The Silver Wraith,”

she whispers to herself, setting down the blade. Has she any regard for safety? “We heard you’d won the king’s competition.”

“I did.”

I take one step to lean against the counter, holding my face mere inches from hers. “I need to speak with your guildmaster.”

She studies me for a long moment before her gaze shifts to Caspian and Gavriel, shock consuming her features once more. “You brought the prince?”

she squeaks, acting as if I would ever care about bringing royalty into my world. “They stay here.”

“No.”

The word comes out sharper than intended. “They stay with me.”

The woman’s lips thin, and she considers something before shaking her head. “The prince and a royal sentry? In our guild?”

she scoffs. “I think not.”

I feel Caspian tense beside me as his thigh settles against mine. Before he can speak, I lower my voice, dropping the friendly act. “This isn’t a request. Take us to your guildmaster, or I introduce you to my blade before finding him myself.”

I let my hand drift down, her eyes following only to catch on my weapons. “Your choice.”

The threat is clear—I’ve no time for games today.

She mutters something under her breath but straightens, pushing against a door behind the counter. “Follow me. And tell your friends to keep their hands where I can see them.”

I chuckle as we follow her through the door and down a dark, narrow staircase. “They’re the least of your worries today.”

I consider killing her for being the most foolish person I’ve ever met—who the fuck gives their back to someone who’s known for being a ruthless murderer?

The steps creak under our weight as we enter the basement. It’s larger than I'd have guessed, with a stone hallway that leads to various rooms. We pass an open one where a few students practice with wooden daggers in one corner. They pause their sparring when they catch sight of us, whispering among themselves as soon as they think we cannot hear.

The woman leads us to another door, this one reinforced with steel. She knocks twice before opening it.

“Thaddeus, sir,”

she announces, “the Silver Wraith is requesting an audience with you.”

A large man swings the door open a moment later, which explains the lack of training and structure in this facility. A woman would never do such a piss-poor job of managing a guild—something Marek realized when he took over and brought in Velora as his second.

Thaddeus grunts and nods his head, inviting us to follow. The office is spacious but cluttered, with maps and documents covering every surface. Behind a massive desk, Thaddeus—who must be close to sixty, though his build suggests he hasn’t lost much of his fighting capability—sits with a loud thump. His dark eyes sweep over us, their gaze like ice.

“Leave us, Marta,”

he commands. My eyes stay fixed on the man in front of me as his student steps out, closing the door behind her.

“Interesting company you keep, Silver Wraith,”

Thaddeus comments in a gravelly tone, leaning back in his chair. There’s an intensity in the way his muscles rest, as if he expects to jump from his seat and defend himself at any moment. Smart. “To what do I owe this honor?”

I step forward and drop into the seat across from him, unsheathing my blade to twirl it through my fingers. “Ally Dimir. She claimed to be a student from your guild.”

His expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in his eyes. “Never heard of her.”

My answering laugh is quiet as I continue to stare at the guildmaster. “How would you like to find out just what I do to those that lie to me?”

I lean against the edge of his desk, my blade not faltering once in my hold. “She was in the king’s competition. Until I killed her. Ring any bells, yet?”

“Many competed in the king’s trials. I can’t be expected to remember them all.”

He shrugs, but his shoulders are too tense. “Now, if that’s all—”

Quick as thought, I twist my blade so the hilt rests in my palm and slam it into his desk, embedding the steel deep in the wood between Thaddeus’ splayed fingers. “You have one last chance to answer my fucking questions before your guild finds itself masterless.”

My voice is calm but harsh. I am exhausted from others' constant dismissal.

“Ariella.”

Caspian pauses as if he's about to continue, but I silence him by holding up my other hand.

“The king came here himself, did he not?”

I press. “Specifically requested Ally be sent for his competition. What I want to know is why.”

I already have the answer, but I also need to know if there was more to Thalion’s decision than choosing the most gullible woman he could find.

Now that I think of it, I don’t believe Caspian knew of his secret betrothal to her.

Thaddeus’ jaw clenches, his voice light as he insists, “Like I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I was hoping he’d say that.

Before he can blink, I stand from my seat and twist my blade to shove it through his outstretched hand, securing it to his desk. The man makes a delightfully desperate noise, leaning forward to grab my blade. As he does, I unsheathe another and press it against the base of his throat where the adrenaline rushing into his system pounds against the skin of his neck. His eyes scream of betrayal—did he think I wouldn’t follow through?

He will not make such a mistake again.

I lean in even closer, twisting the blade a bit. His teeth grind, the high-pitched sound something I wish to hear again. “You’re lying again, Thaddeus. And my patience is wearing quite thin.”

“You dare threaten me in my own guild, wraith?”

He shifts to lean back as much as his hand will allow. “I could have you killed where you stand.”

I bellow a laugh, the sound hollow and cold, though I will admit that was humorous. “Is that right?”

I yank my blade free and press it to his cheek in one fluid motion. The seething man stills as he favors the wound I created. “We both know how that would end,”

I taunt, wiping my blade free of blood along the lines of his face.

"Marek will hear of this." His eyes dart to Caspian, who has moved to stand at the side of the desk, his posture guarded. “As will the king.”

The prince just smiles and shrugs.

“Good.”

I slap the blade against his cheek, directing the attention back to me. “Now talk.”

He swallows hard, throat bobbing against my blade. “Fine. Yes, the king came here. Wanted one of our best girls for his competition. Said to keep it quiet.”

“And you just agreed? No questions asked?”

“He paid well for my discretion.”

Thaddeus’ lips curl. “Very well.”

“What else?”

When he hesitates, I press harder. “I know there’s more, so let us not continue this exhausting back and forth. Because I will win every single time.”

He grimaces, sucking in a breath. “He—he said to make it look like we’d sent three, the same as the other guilds, but only two were to actually compete.”

Interesting. I knew there was no chance Ally made it through those trials alone; she may have been an impressive fighter, but physical strength does not correlate to that of the mind.

“Why?”

Caspian demands, speaking to Thaddeus for the first time since we entered.

“I don’t know.”

Thaddeus meets my gaze, holding his good hand up in a placating gesture. “I swear it. He didn’t explain, just paid and left.”

I study him for a long moment before lowering my blade. He’s telling the truth—or at least, what he believes to be the truth. Fuck. I was hoping we’d find something here. I exchange a look with Caspian, both of us in agreement: this is a dead end.

“If that’s all you know,”

I say, sheathing my blade, “we’ll take our leave.”

“Wait.”

Thaddeus opens a drawer and pulls out a pen, a moment later handing me a folded piece of paper. “Ally’s family. They still live here in Meridian. She only worked for me on a part-time basis, so she did not live here with the others. Perhaps they know something I do not.”

I snatch the paper from him, memorizing the address before tucking it away and walking from the room.

We leave the guild in silence, emerging into the late afternoon sun. The streets are quieter now, most merchants packing up their wares for the day.

“Well, that was enlightening,”

Gavriel mutters.

I ignore him, spinning to Caspian. His eyes find mine and soften. “We should find Bastian. I’ll bet the fool knows more about this than Ally’s family, if the way he looked at her in Valoria before the ball was any indication.”

“Agreed. My father visits here too often to ignore my cousin.”

Caspian stretches his neck and runs a hand through his hair. I nearly lose myself in the strands that shift with the warm breeze. “But not right now. We’re all exhausted, and Bastian’s estate is on the other side of the city. We should rest first.”

As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. I’d sooner work myself to death before choosing to rest on my own. But my limbs feel heavy from the long ride, and my mind is sluggish from lack of sleep. So I nod once.

“Fine.”

I search the rows of buildings, spotting a sign down the way. “There’s an inn toward the docks. Should be decent enough.”

The inn turns out to be better than decent, with clean rooms and fresh linens. The innkeeper barely blinks at my hair or Caspian’s fine clothes, just hands over two keys and points us toward the stairs before disappearing. What a strange city.

“Two rooms?”

I raise an eyebrow at the prince.

He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. “Gav needs his beauty sleep. Wouldn’t want to disturb him by all of us sharing just one.”

I roll my eyes but snatch one of the keys from his hand and jog up the stairs. The room is simple but comfortable, with a large bed and a window overlooking the harbor. The sun is setting, painting the water in brilliant oranges and pinks. It’s extraordinary.

It reminds me of the paintings I used to see in Valoria—the ones meant to romanticize far-off places I never cared to see. But this…this is alive. So different from any feeling a piece of art could invoke.

The smell of salt on the breeze, the gentle lap of waves against the docks, the atmosphere—it’s not something a canvas could ever capture. For a moment, I let myself wonder if there’s a world out there, past the horizon, where things are simpler. Where people live without wasting decades on a revenge they’ll never get.

A knock at the door startles me, and I know it’s Caspian before I open it—his essence has become as familiar to me as my own. Something I do not even need my psionic strand to feel.

“Thought you might be hungry,”

he says, holding up a bottle of wine and what smells like fresh bread.

I step aside to let him in, watching as he sets the items on a small table by the window. He moves with an easy grace that still catches me off guard sometimes.

“Where’s your shadow?”

I ask as I cross my arms, referring to Gavriel.

“Asleep already.”

He pours two glasses of wine. “Said something about never riding a horse again as long as he lives.”

I accept the glass he offers, our fingers brushing. “He’s been unusually quiet since we arrived.”

Caspian pauses a moment to think about that, humming before he tears the bread in half, passing me a piece. “Try it. The baker said it’s their specialty.”

The bread is still warm, perfectly crusty on the outside and soft within. I close my eyes, savoring the taste. When I open them again, Caspian is watching me with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. It’s almost discomforting—being perceived for more than just my hair. My reputation.

“What?”

I breathe, suddenly self-conscious.

He gives a small shake of his head. “Nothing. Just…I like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Relaxed. Real.”

He advances on me, setting down his wine. “You let your guard down sometimes, when we’re alone. It’s beautiful.”

I should step back. Should remind him that whatever this is between us is just physical and can’t last forever. Instead, I find myself drawing closer, unable to help the need to be attached to him.

“Caspian…”

His name is a whisper on my lips before he’s kissing me, gentle at first, then with increasing urgency.

I press against him, wine forgotten as my free hand finds its way into the prince’s hair. He tastes like bread and berries and something uniquely him that I can never quite define.

“Stay,”

I breathe against his mouth before I can stop myself. “Tonight. Stay with me.”

He would have slept on the floor, ever the gentleman, but I no longer want him anywhere away from me during the night.

His answer is to kiss me harder, smiling into my mouth as he walks us backward until my legs hit the bed. We fall together, a tangle of limbs and half-removed clothing. I manage to set my wine down before shifting my entire focus to the man holding me as if I’m his savior.

Later, much later, we lie facing each other in the darkness. The moon displays the shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones.

“What are you thinking about?”

he asks, his voice low and soft as he traces patterns along my bare spine, causing me to shiver every few minutes. His touch feels so fucking nice.

I consider lying, but the more time I spend with him, the lower my desire is to do so. “Everything. Nothing.”

I sigh. “How complicated this all is. How I just want it to be over.”

He tugs my naked body against his, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “We’ll figure it out, angel.”

My ear rests above his heart, and my mind settles. It's so easy with him.

I want to believe him. Want to trust that there’s a way through this labyrinth we’ve found ourselves in. But as I drift off to sleep in his arms, I can’t shake the truth that we’re running out of time.