The Assassin: (Mortal Beloved Time Travel Romance, #2) (16 page)

When in doubt? Fake it ’til you make it.
 

“Your Royal Highness, the reading,” I cried out, put one hand to my forehead, and pretended to swoon, “it comes to me—now!” I fell to my knees onto the stone floors and dropped the cup of tea. It shattered and the amber colored liquid and sooty black leaves spilled out in front of me, their bitter scent filling my nostrils.

Sister Cecilia inhaled sharply and clutched her chest.
 

Sister Ana didn’t break a sweat. “I really must be getting back to John.” She stood. “Your Highness, will one of your pious men be so gallant as to chaperone me during my return to the monastery?”

“Of course, Sister.” Prince Pedro motioned to one of his guards who nodded at Ana. “I need to see my son.”
 

She shook her head. “With all due respect, Your Highness, please visit John in a week or so when he is healthier.” She walked to the door. “You must miss him terribly, but I would hate for you to visit too soon, get him anxious or excited, and interrupt his progress.”

“Ah, yes,” Prince Pedro said as his face fell.

“Your Highness,” Sister Cecilia said.
 
“John is finally speaking, only a few words, but we pray he climbs out of the abyss of his confusion. We welcome you to visit the monastery very soon.”

Sister Ana eyed me and then turned her attention back to Prince Pedro. “May you find guidance from your… reading.” She left the room and all eyes turned to me.

~ ~ ~

I pushed each shard of pottery away from the herbs, one by one, as Prince Pedro, Jorge, and Fernando approached me carefully, like I was a magical shiny bubble that might pop and vanish at any moment.

Prince Pedro knelt on one knee and peered at the mess on the floor. “What do you see?”

Samuel glared at me. I coughed and pointed to some herbs on the far left side; they resembled a frowny face. “I see deep disappointment and sadness. I see confusion. This represents Your Royal Highness’s current state of mind.”

“Anyone would know that,” Jorge said.

In the middle of the herbs was an arrow-shaped configuration. “Look.” I pointed to it. “This arrow is a weapon which clearly suggests there is conflict. It points up, not down or sideways. This means the conflict is of a higher nature. You do not need to confront those close to you, or the ones who circle you offering friendship or kindness. Not even Jorge, who consistently makes fun of me. You do, however, need to engage in conflict but….” I paused and thought.

What would best serve Pedro and Portugal? How could I best serve as a Messenger?

Prince Pedro pounded his fist on the floor and I jumped. “Tell me, girl! Before God, his saints, his sinners, tell me now!”

~ eighteen ~

I broke out into a sweat and my hands started shaking.

“Calm down, Your Highness,” Sister Cecilia crossed herself. “God is with you. He comforts you in this hour of your distress.”

“You are wrong, Sister.” Prince Pedro glared at her. “I am wrecked. I am broken. This girl—” he pointed to me. “Only
she
has the wherewithal right now to make me feel somewhat normal, somewhat in control. Only she can give me guidance.”

“She is trying, Your Highness,” Samuel said. “But she is out of her element. Give her a little time.”

I stared at the remains of the beverage on the floor and spotted three distinct leaves positioned in the far right above the rest of the mess. Not that far below them was a clump of greenish gray glop that, if I squinted, appeared to be closing in on them.
 

What could this mean?
 

I thought of Angeni. I heard the Sa. Ta. Na. Ma.
chant
in my head
;
the words that translated to Infinity, Life, Death, Rebirth, and Reincarnation. Suddenly, I felt a little woozy and the room started to spin around me like I was the center of a compass.

“I see Inêz’s assassins!” I pointed to the leaves on the far right. “They are escaping even as we speak, but look!” I slammed my index finger onto a cluster directly below them. “This grouping tells me someone is right behind them, on their trail. The multiple leaves signify that it’s an alliance of people chasing the assassins, attempting to bring them to justice.”
 

I noticed a tiny squiggly mark on top. “And clearly, this is a crown.” I turned to Prince Pedro. “Your Royal Highness, don’t go to war with your father, King Afonso. Instead, send a search party to hunt down Inêz’s assassins, capture, and return them to you for justice.”

I wasn’t deliberately
trying
to be deceitful, but I doubted a search party, no matter how clever, would find Inêz’s assassins. And yet I continued…

“Ridiculous rubbish!” Fernando said.
 

“I disagree,” Jorge said. “I think the girl is onto something.”

“This is how you start your revenge, your retaliation, Prince Pedro. Please do not go to war with your father,” I pleaded. “Your entire country will suffer. I believe Inêz speaks to me in this reading. I think she wants you to find the actual people who inflicted her mortal wounds, the persons that killed her.”

“I wholeheartedly disagree!” Fernando exclaimed. “Now is the time, Pedro, to take down your father, who has totally lost his heart and, in his old age, is losing his mind. He is behind Inêz’s assassination. If you cut off the beast’s hands, but do not slay the beast, his hands will grow back seven-fold.”

I glanced up. Both Sister Cecilia and Samuel shook their heads almost imperceptibly.

“If you slay the beast, Your Highness,” I said, “you will never know for sure who whispered poisonous words into his ears. Killing your father does not bring back Inêz. Yes, you will become King of Portugal, but you will also inherit a court filled with advisors who would happily lie to you and plan your assassination as well as the death of your children behind your back.”
 

“The girl is right,” Prince Pedro said. “I prefer to find my beloved’s assassins before I undermine my father and lay claim to the throne.” He paced. “But, who will I send? As you already noted, her murderers are already well on their way to freedom.”
 

I spotted a splatter of tea and one tiny leaf about a foot away from the soggy mess and pointed to it. “Yes and no,” I said. “One travels very quickly as far away as possible. The others are either stupid, or arrogant, and believe their job is done. They are spending their silver in brothels and betting places not as far from here as you fear. Put together a search party. Pick the people you trust, Your Highness. The ones you get a good feeling about.”

Prince Pedro shook his head and closed his bloodshot eyes for a few moments.
 

“Thank you, Your Highness, for such an entertaining afternoon.” Sister Cecilia shot me a look and then bowed her head to Prince Pedro. “I must return to the monastery. I will take Nadja with me.”

Samuel eyed her suspiciously.

“And Lord De Rocha will accompany us to ensure our safe travel,” I said. “Thanks so very much for the food, and the bath, and the beautiful dress. Can I keep it?”

Jorge laughed out loud.

“Be quiet!” Fernando said.

The three of us edged toward the door. Sister Cecilia passed through it first. I was next, and Samuel behind me when Prince Pedro roared. “Guard! Detain them.”

The man clamped a meaty hand on my shoulder and stopped me in my tracks. He squeezed my shoulder like a WWE wrestler and I yelped in pain. “You’re hurting me!”
 

“Take your hands off her!” Samuel strode toward him, but the soldier didn’t flinch.

Sister Cecilia Hail Maryed herself and slid back in the room. “Everyone calm down.” She made the sign of the cross. “Soon it will grow dark and we must return to the monastery to look after your children, Your Highness. Now that Nadja has been baptized, I am certain she will want to become a Sister at the Monastery of Santa Clara a Vel-ha as soon as possible. In the meantime, she can help us around the cloister. Cook, clean, and serve.”

Please dear God, save me. Nothing against organized religion, but I did not want to be forced to become a nun in any lifetime.

“In a moment,” Prince Pedro said. “First, I pick the people who will hunt down the assassins and bring them to justice. Jorge, you will be the search party’s leader. You are honest and I trust you. Choose five of your most skilled and trustworthy soldiers to accompany you. If you have to decide between skilled and trustworthy—err on the side of trustworthy.
 

“I volunteer, Your Highness,” Samuel said.

I swiveled and stared at him. He didn’t seem like the volunteering type.

“Thank you, Lord De Rocha,” Prince Pedro said. “I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to.”

“No, Your Highness, I do not,” Samuel said. “I, too, was at your house that horrible night. I too guarded your children. I need to see this through, for Lady Inêz, for you, and for Portugal.”

“I take it I am allowed to leave?” Jorge asked.

Prince Pedro gestured to the door.
 

Jorge winked at me as he slipped past me out the door. “Keep the gown,” he said. “It suits you.”

My eyes widened and I couldn’t think of a snappy retort. Samuel covered a frown.

“Should I accompany Jorge, Your Highness?”
 

“Not yet,” he said.

Sister Cecilia bowed her head to the Prince. “It grows late. Unless Your Highness requires our attendance, I humbly request that we be allowed to leave as well.”

“I need a few words with the girl.” He beckoned to me.
 

My glance swiveled between Samuel and the nun. Samuel grimaced while Sister Cecilia bit her lip.
 

“Now,” Prince Pedro said.

I walked the few yards toward him but they felt like a mile. I bent my head and curtseyed. “Yes, Your Highness. How might I be of service?”

He took my hand. “Walk with me,” he said.

~ nineteen ~

We entered a royal courtyard shaped like a rectangle. A thin, shallow reflecting pool was situated in its center. Prince Pedro paced maniacally and I tried my best to keep up with him.

A guard stood to the side and pretended not to watch our every move.
 

“I need a few moments or lifetimes away from these people, away from the craziness,” Prince Pedro said. “I need respite from my mess of a life.”

My heart went out to the man; his eyes were red, his hair needed to be combed, and his face was ashen. He looked about as terrible as I probably did, when I woke up on the cellar floor.
 

“The first time I laid eyes on Inêz was almost fifteen years ago at my betrothal celebration to my former wife, Lady Constanza of Castile. I entered the grand hall, heard the music, saw the brilliant gowns, the guards on alert, and the magnificent festivities. My parents looked happy and content for the first time in years. And I thought
I could make this work.
After all, the majority of princes are required to marry for political purposes.”

“I read about that in Euro History Class,” I said and immediately cringed.

“What?”

“It’s common knowledge amongst historians from your various classes. My great uncle was Romani, yet fancied himself to be a historian,” I said and peered at my feet.

“Interesting. I have heard similar tales from several of my gypsy servants,” he said.

“Please continue, Your Highness,” I said. “Tell me more about when you met Inêz.”

His face softened. “My eyes lit on all the beautiful ladies, the ones in the most ornate gowns, the richest jewelry, until they came to rest on one woman who was rather simply attired but would always stand out from the crowd—Inêz de Castro. I fear I was smitten, and did not even notice Princess Constanza of Castile until Jorge shoved his elbow in my ribs and whispered that I was eyeing a lady-in-waiting, not a princess.”

“If you knew you had to marry Constanza, why did you pursue Inêz?” I asked.

“I had no choice. We had a kind of crazy love that poets wrote about.
She called it ‘
Até o fim do mundo...
Until the end of the world’ kind of love.
My father banished Inêz and sent her back to Galicia. I married Constanza, but longed for Inêz every moment of my existence. I had her brought back. Constanza conspired against her. I don’t blame her really. And yet, we couldn’t help but be together. I felt terrible when Constanza died so shortly after giving birth to our son. I truly did. But in a way, I was relieved. Now I could be with Inêz, marry her. Except my father would not allow it. She wanted to marry in secret. We were together for fifteen years before these jackals took her from me.”
 

“I know what it feels like to lose someone you love. It was my honor to help your children and give you a reading,” I said. “I wish I had gotten to your beloved in time. I wish I could have saved her.”

“When I finally find sleep, it’s fitful and she calls to me. Every corner I turn, I think I might see her. Every day without her is torture.”

“You need to rest,” I said.

“I cannot until justice has been served. You are old enough to know the relationships between gypsies and nobility, yes?” He asked.

The dying gypsy man in the cellar had said something similar to this. “Absolutely,” I said. “We are the keeper of your secrets, your couriers—”

“And on occasion, our spies. I could command you,” Prince Pedro said. “I could force you to be on my side, commit treason against my father, and coerce you with threats or blackmail to spy for me. But you helped, you saved my children, and I believe you will be loyal to me in my quest. So, instead, I’m
asking
you, Nadja, to be my spy.”

The problem was I didn’t really know how to spy.
I also wasn’t very good at being a Messenger but that didn’t stop me.

I nodded. “Yes, Your Highness,” I said. “I would do that for you.”

“I want you to accompany my hunting party,” he said.

All the little hairs on the back of my arms stood up. “
Hunting party?”
I asked.

“The group I’m sending to track down Inêz’s assassins. Blend in as a servant and send messages back to me.”