I woke up drenched in a cold sweat, like my body already knew something was terribly wrong. There was a shout and the sound of glass shattering sounded downstairs. The house was alarmingly silent. Like even it knew something was amiss. I grabbed my bow and quiver and slowly eased from the bed. I opened the door in the dark and crept down the stairs.  I didn’t dare make any noise. I nocked an arrow into my bow and took the last step down the stairs. Wind from the open front door, pulled off its hinges, blew my unbound hair into my face. But I didn’t feel the chill. My eyes were fixed on my dad’s broken body laying in the hall, eyes unseeing and empty. So unlike the usual warmth they always possessed. Then I was screaming and clutching at his bloodied body, like it would bring him back.

I jolted awake, my broken screams and pleas to the gods from nine years ago ringing in my ears. It had been a while since nightmares of that horrifying night held me in their icy grasp. I supposed it was because of what I was planning on doing tomorrow night. Since my fathers gruesome murder, it had become my lifes work to find every last person connected to his death, and end them all. 

I’d been tracking a man named Nawor Hamil for the past year, and I’d recently learned of a party he was hosting in his obnoxiously large manor. I knew he had a hand in killing my father and with the invite I’d intercepted a week ago, I was going to walk right into his residence. I knew the celebration was just a front for a deal Hamil was planning on conducting in one of the rooms on the second floor. 

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep again, I got up, grabbing my ash bow and arrows to go practice shooting. It was my father’s bow, the only piece of him I had been allowed to take with me to my foster home when his funeral commenced. I never forgot the training he’d instilled in me, from the moment I had been able to hold a bow on my own. He never told me what his work exactly entailed, but I suspect it included assassinating enemies of whoever he worked for. I thought back to late one night when he came home with a black eye and bloody hands. An unsuspecting twelve year old me asked him what happened. He picked me up and said, “Amara, Daddy does bad things sometimes. I have no choice. But I promise I will never let it harm you.” I nodded and he smiled and put me down. I went upstairs and after a while, he came with a cup of milk and tucked me into bed. That was the last night I ever saw my dad’s smiling eyes and handsome face. 

~~~

I smoothed my hands over the maroon dress I stood in. Then I attempted to do something with my curly auburn hair, so it didn’t resemble a birds nest. The only weapon I would have on me was a dagger in a thigh sheath, within easy access through the carefully hidden slit in the side of the gown I had made. A couple nights back, I went to Hamil’s mansion, learning the layout of his home and marking various escape routes. I also dropped off a bow and quiver of arrows on a balcony that seemed as though it wasn’t used very often. Then I prayed to the gods that hadn’t answered my pleas nine years ago, that they wouldn’t be discovered before I needed them. 

I hired a carriage to take me to the party once I was done making myself look as presentable as possible. I miraculously made it into the manor without encountering any problems or tripping over my own feet in the heels I’d opted to wear. I stayed with the other guests for an hour on the main floor pretending to drink the whiskey a server pressed into my hands. Then I stumbled up the stairs, mimicking the clumsy actions of a young lady who couldn’t hold her alcohol, and needed to lay down. As soon as I was out of the line of sight of anyone downstairs, I darted over to the balcony I’d hid my bow and arrows in, and strapped them to my back. I let the familiar killing calm settle over me and sharpen my senses as I nocked an arrow. It was the same icy calm that filled my veins whenever I interrogated one of Hamil’s cronies for information about his dealings. 

Pain lanced through my body and I staggered forward. The bow fell from my hands and I dropped to my knees, gasping for air. I looked down in disbelief, seeing an arrowhead piercing through my chest. A hand grabbed my hair roughly and yanked backwards, causing white sparks to flash in my sight. My pained gaze met with eyes the colour of liquid honey framed by sinfully long eyelashes. 

“Did you really think you could walk right into my father’s home and succeed in killing him?” the owner of those beautiful eyes asked. My whole body shook as I attempted to form a legible sentence, “Your father will burn in hell for all the pain he caused me and my father. I had to try.” I whimpered as blood gushed out of my wound. I knew it was fatal and I wouldn’t be leaving this mansion alive. 

“I don’t want to die,” I confessed and tears slipped out of my eyes. His hand in my hair loosened and he gently lowered me down onto my side on the plush carpet. Darkness edged into the sides of my vision. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

I was so tired. The last thing I saw before I submitted to the darkness beckoning me, was the tears slipping down his anguished face.

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