Young Writers Society

The hall was quiet , and Rofulo didn't follow him. The king knew when he had won. Obi wasn't there to see the queen come out of the shadows. He was half way to the door when Qui burst in, muttering under her breath, "It takes an act of the gods to get in this place." She saw him then. Their eyes met for a moment and then slid away as if she didn't recognize him. He followed her cue and hurried out the door.

He was down the stairs and halfway towards the curb when he realized his car was gone.

He sighed heavily. Why had he told the chauffeur to leave? Wishful thinking probably. The shorter his meetings with royalty, the better. He hesitated a moment before untying his robe, and one more before he took it off. There would probably be talk of stiff Obi Eshe walking around town in his bed clothes, but he was far past caring. He was coming to realize court life was far more tiresome than he remembered, and it was beginning to disgust him. If he could ensure that Lekan would be safe and find a way for Conya to be comfortable for life, he would leave, and he'd never come back. He'd go somewhere with an ocean and regular rains. He wanted to experience a winter. He'd still never seen a snow. That was a damned shame. A grown man should have already seen snow once, he reasoned though most of his friends had never seen snow either.

The short drive was proving a much longer walk. He looked back at the palace and saw it was depressingly close. He also noticed a shadow slip into the bushes. Keeping the same pace, he stayed calm. In fact, he embraced the tingle of excitement that he'd gone too long without. He thought that civilian life would be relaxing, and it had been at first. After a few months though, he had gotten jumpy, waiting for a disaster. It was nice to have a little jump of adrenaline.

Rofulo had just recruited him for spy work, so it definitely wasn’t an assassin sent by him. Pen-di and the other noble rebels could possibly have an incredibly efficient network, but they weren’t really organized enough for that yet. Perhaps Rofulo was keeping tabs on him. This would not do. He casually turned down a side street. The part of town he was in was good enough for him not to worry too much about what would be waiting for him. The street had minimal cover. If the tail was a good one, this ploy wouldn’t do much, but if it was a poor one, Obi would be able to recognize him in the future. He refused to be watched all day.

He had passed four nice town homes that poorer nobles were still sleeping in before he turned. A little girl in a white nightgown turned the corner and froze when she saw him. Confusion hit with a bit of disappointment. There would be no dodging and weaving today. He was at a loss as far as what he should do, so he just turned as if he hadn’t seen anything at all and continued walking. The slap of bare feet on cobble stones followed.

“Wait!” she cried, and he flinched as the word echoed off the walls. It was one thing to be seen

Turning sharply again, he studied her as she came to a stop in front of him. Her face was scrunched up as she gasped for air, bent over at the waist, but when she looked up, he saw spirit in dark blue eyes and in the fists clenching her nightgown. He recognized her now. He remembered leaning over to Sefu when they had sat in a pew watching her walk down the aisle that they weren’t watching a wedding but a sacrifice. His assassin was young Princess Ihynu, married to the fourth prince. She had been living in the palace as a smiling garnish at balls and events for months now.

Her history was written in the silence between them. He saw each figure in her eyes and the fine blonde hair playing in the wind. She had been born beautiful and clever and had remained an only child through some trick of fate. She’d learned etiquette quickly and had been trotted out like a show pony for parties to be cooed over by overpowered women and overstarched men. Spoiled and praised, she developed a will of her own that was never tamed. Perhaps the family had fallen on hard times. Maybe her father was just a greedy bastard. Either way, she had been sold to the highest bidder and given away, like a calf.

He blinked down at her, keeping his face straight. It would do him no favors to show he pitied her. It would either invite anger or a plea for help. He was in no mindset to deal with either. She was now breathing at a more normal pace, but she had yet to break the silence. “I assume you didn’t just run down after me for the fun of it?” he asked, smothering a smile when she wrinkled her nose at his stuffy words. She almost looked disappointed.

“I need help, and…” She swallowed, wringing her hands. “I think you can help me.” She fidgeted as he stared down at her.

Raising an eyebrow, he gestured for her to walk with him and put his ceremonial robes around her. They dragged the ground, but he imagined, in the few blissfully cool moments of morning, she was a little chilly in her bed clothes. “Help you with what?” he prodded when quiet again fell upon the pair.

Eyes bright with tears he could tell she was trying to keep at bay, she tried to speak but failed the first two times when her words wavered. She stared down at the bright pattern of his robes and muttered, so soft and quick he could barely hear, “I will die if I don’t get out of there.” Her head turned as if she could see the palace through the houses. “I know you don’t like them.” Looking up again, her face was set in stubborn lines as if her will power could keep the desperation that was whitening her lips from revealing itself.

She wasn’t old enough for that yet, Obi thought as he gifted her with a smile that did indeed hold a trace of pity. It was hard to say no to eyes like hers. Agreeing to help though was a terrible idea. it would involve risk his family couldn’t afford, planning he didn’t have time for, energy only a younger man had. It was another way to rise against Rofulo.

A tear tracked its way down her cheek. He, apparently, wasn’t old enough to keep his thoughts from roaming across his face either.

Crouching to her level, he cupped her cheek. “Little one…” Refusal sat on his lips and swung its legs. It poked its head out a looked around. “I will try my hardest to get you away, but I need you to not let anyone know. I need you to start the act now. Are you lost, dear?”

She sniffed, and more tears fell as she nodded.

Smart girl. He patted her shoulder in approval and stood, groaning as his knees protested. “There you go. It may take me a while to get you safely. I you ever need to leave immediately, send me a message asking about flowers. You’ll send it to my home.” He bowed. “Princess Ihynu, I am your servant.” Taking her hand, he turned around. “Let’s take you back.” A little voice warned him he’d regret this, trusting a child with something that could get him beheaded all too easily.

He brushed it away, whistling.

A giggle on her lips, she beamed up at him, her tears drying.

Ruffling her hair, he warned her, “Keep crying. We’ll have to put on a good show for the guard. If you flutter them right, those baby blues will do you wonders.”

The guard stared at Ihyna when she came up the stairs to the door. “What happened?” he asked, his face holding a panicked grimace. He opened the door and watched her go inside, his eyes wide.

Obi slapped several gold coins in his palm. “Nothing happened. If anyone asks, she was looking for a treat in the kitchen.” He looked into the speechless guard’s eyes. “If anyone asks me about what Princess Ihyna was doing out so early in the morning, I’ll find you, and you won’t like it.” He was walking down the steps before the guard could reply. He only noticed Ihyna had taken his robes when he was half way home.