This dance was a matter of status. For young women and men to find a partner for life – a partner with a status. Women were dressed in their finest sacques, with the nicest silk fringe they could afford and ribbons and jewelry at a max, while men wore embroidered silk suits. Their stockings were as high up to their knees as they could get it. The floor was a sea of powdered hair mixed with wigs among the men,
I pushed a strand of stray curly hair back behind my ear as I gazed below from a staircase. My father wanted me to go to find myself a suitor. I knew this, although he had never said so to me, and in the days leading to the event I tried speaking often of finding a suitor, though I knew deep down I wasn't going to find one. That was not my intention. Right now, I searched for a specific man among the sea of others. I knew his name. I knew he was my target. I did not know what he looked like.
I'd been told he was a brunette. I'd also been told he had silver hair due to age. I'd been told he had brown eyes, and other sources claimed he had blue. The only thing that had been the same among all was that he was an older man, French and higher in status, with a narrow face, who got off on hitting on younger women.
It was basically a wild goose chase for this man.
"Victor Boudet," I muttered, keeping my voice down to avoid anyone around me overhearing, "where are you?"
The front doors opened. Not grandly, but not a small crack. Just a normal opening. This was rare, as if the guest wanted no attention, but this uncommon action gained my attention. I glanced over to see who had walked in.
He wasn't a 40-year-old man with pastel clothing. He wasn't in elaborate clothing to brag with, and wasn't even accompanied by a woman. He was someone I'd never seen before – definitely a native, but not one of the area. Regardless, it was odd. Natives never entered balls like this. His tan and brown clothing complimented his dark skin, and he completely stuck out from the wave of pastel colors. He gazed around the room, brushing over where I was on the stairs, only to hesitate on me. I straightened my back, and he glanced away, causing a smile to form on my pale lips.
He had my attention now. I had to figure out who he was, and what he was doing.
"Miss Taite," I heard from behind, and I brushed it aside as I navigated my way down the rounded wooden stairway, past all the other women and men crowding near the bottom. No one made room for me to pass, not that I expected, and when I got close to the dance floor, I found myself lost. He no longer was standing at the doorway.
A man in green bowed in front of me, and although I left my gaze on him, I didn't hear a word he said. It was like everything around me had blurred out. The only thing I was focused on now was finding the native. I'd even forgotten about my target.
I pushed past the man in green and right past his friends, who were snickering until I approached. Their position changed immediately, and they all bowed. It didn't matter to me anyway, they weren't who I was looking for.
When I reached the front door, one of the servants standing by looked at me questioningly.
"Is everything okay, Miss Taite?"
I didn't even look at him as I continued scanning the room. I simply just gave him an absent nod.
I was an assassin trained to find people. How was I having such a hard time with this?
That was when I caught him, standing on the stairs, staring at me. I frowned curiously, just gazing at him for a few moments. Was he aware I was chasing after him?
I picked up my dress and fought my way through the sea of people once more to climb back up the stairs, only to find him gone once again.
I finally let out a quiet breath of exasperation. I was chasing after a damn ghost.
"Are you looking for me?" I turned to face back up the stairs and see him slowly saunter down towards me. I finally got to see him fully, this time up close. He was an attractive young man, maybe in his twenties, with a square face and a well defined jawbone. His dark clothes hid away obvious muscle, and with every step he took closer to me showed the hidden power behind him. I steadied myself with a breath, allowing my corset to do its work as I straightened, then let a friendly smile through.
"I was," I said, forcing a smooth voice. "Alessia Taite. A pleasure to meet you." I curtsied.
"Connor." He bowed in response.
"No last name?" He didn't move, and I pursed my lips and glanced away. "Alright." He suddenly outstretched his hand, and I simply looked at it for a moment, heart racing, before I took it and followed him back down the stairs, his rough hand tight as he guided me towards the ballroom floor. As soon as we were both on solid ground and not on stairs, I realized how his body lumbered over me.
He positioned himself to dance, and I matched him. His loose grip on me showed he was there to talk, not dance.
"You're not from here, are you?" I asked. Connor didn't answer, not even meeting eye contact. I narrowed my eyes on his face, as if staring into his eyes, and asked, "If that's the case, how did you get the invitation to come? Did you have to kill a man for an outfit and invite?" He finally turned to look at me, expressionlessly. I felt my heart drop into my stomach, now questioning his intentions here.
"You are an assassin," he spoke suddenly. I froze, then tore my hands away from him, putting a few feet of distance between us.
He wasn't wrong, But, a female in the 18th century wasn't taken seriously if she was titled an assassin, no matter how talented she was, so she kept quiet about her position in the Brotherhood to everyone.
"Who are you really?" I snapped, everything changing from smooth and calm to short and bitter. The hidden knife under my sleeve prepared. I didn't care how attractive he was. I would slice his throat in a heartbeat.
"Another with the same target as you," he answered simply. I clenched my fist, but settled back.
"How do you know who my target is?" I asked, my eyebrow raising. There was no way he knew who I was after, and even if he did, he must be an ally.
"Victor Boudet. One of the highest ranking French officials." I straightened myself. "Wanted for aiding the Templars."
"Where's your gear, then, assassin?" I gave him a smug smile.
"Where is yours?" My smile immediately wiped off my face.
I didn't answer.
Connor offered his hand once more, and I took it, this time more hesitantly. He guided me aside into a smaller hall, and as soon as we passed the door frame and exited the sight range of the guests in attendance, he promptly – and politely – released my hand.
"Where are we going?" I asked, still following him quickly down the white halls. "If anything, he's out in the ballroom floor." He ignored me for a few moments, slipping into a small room to the left, almost hidden against the white walls.
"My mission is to obtain a letter and return it to Boston," he said simply, and I stopped at the doorway of this small room, which had a spiral staircase up.
"What?" I huffed, but followed him up. "And my mission is to assassinate him. Who the hell are you under?"
He didn't answer.
It was silent as we passed through another doorway, into a practically empty but short hallway. The floor was wooden, and I knew if we stepped too carelessly on it, we'd make too much noise. It wasn't such a good idea for two snoopers.
Still, Connor headed forward, and I cautiously followed. There were muffled voices at the end of the hall, behind a closed door, which was exactly where we were headed. Connor pinned himself on one side of the door, listening closely, and I stood to the other side of the door.
"I need this right away, Mr Boudet," someone from inside spoke with a quick, nasally voice. Frustration in his voice bordered on anger. "These letters? They don't explain enough." My eyes met Connor's briefly. Were those the letters he needed? When his eyes moved back to the ground just ahead of the door, mine diverted away also.
"I- I'm sorry, Mr Cornwallis," replied a man with a heavy French accent. "They were the best I could get."
"They're not enough," the first man, who I figured was Cornwallis, said sharply. It went silent for a moment, and then his voice got quiet. "I can always replace you, Mr Boudet. This is an easy position to fill."
"I can get you the answers!" Victor replied immediately, no second thought to his words. "I just need time to converse with my men, and then I'll get them for you."
"You aren't working fast enough," a third man spoke now, his voice calm.
"Yes, yes Sir. I can work faster."
"I want these explained further by tomorrow night," Cornwallis commanded. "I need to know what they're planning."
"Of course Sir."
"Now get out of my sight." Connor snapped up and dashed towards me, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the closest door he could find. Before I had time to react, I was standing in a new surrounding, which looked like a personal office of some sort.
He straightened himself up, and I flattened my ruffled dress.
"Well," I huffed. "Now that that is over with." Connor silenced me quickly, then turned his attention to the door.
Two voices from earlier got closer. I recognized one as Cornwallis right away due to the recognizable nasally voice of his.
"That idiot," he was saying. "He won't get it figured out in time."
They were heading towards the office Connor and I stood in. I looked at him for a plan, but he was looking around the room for an exit.
"Do you trust me?" I asked quickly and quietly, and he stopped searching to look at me, and our room fell silent. We both knew we had just met maybe an hour ago, and now I was already asking this question. The steps were getting closer. "You need to trust me on this."
He didn't answer. I quickly pulled a chair over to him and forced him down on a chair, yanked my dress above my knees and sat down on him, legs wide around him. I unpinned my hair and let it fall messily around my shoulders, giving it a more realistic look while also shielding him from Templar view.
"Don't say a word," I whispered, and as the door fidgeted, I pressed my body against him fully and we locked lips.
I'd been trained for this. This is what I'd been specialized in. My mentor had taught me to seduce men for information, and while this wasn't entirely seducing for information, it was close enough.
The door opened and I faked a gasp, looking back at who walked in the door.
Tall man, on the larger side, wearing a bright red coat with shiny gray hair. He fell back and immediately slammed the door shut again, right before I saw the other man with him. I had caught a glimpse of one of the other man behind him, who had thick black hair and what looked like a mustache. I looked back at Connor as I slipped off him.
"Redcoat, about five foot eleven, gray hair and a little large. He had one other companion. I couldn't tell who, though." Connor abruptly stood up.
"What was that?" he asked as I calmly repinned my hair.
"Me saving our asses," I responded nonchalantly. "Unless you would like to explain why there are two snoopers in a court you're technically not supposed to be in, hmm?" He was silent, and I clipped the last of my hair back and brushed off my dress. "Now. We have more time to think of a plan out of here, and we no longer have to worry about anyone coming in here." I shot him a know-it-all smile, which he ignored as he headed to the outer wall and gazed out one of the windows.
"We can escape through the windows," he said. "It's not too far down, and there's no one below."
"We?" I repeated. "I figured after all I put you through in here, you'd want me gone." I kept my voice light and teasing, and he just turned away and didn't answer. I began heading over to join him. "Well if that's the case, I have a dress on, so I go first."
He opened the window for me, offering his hand to keep me stable as I slipped my legs over. I declined it, simply climbing out past his arm and beginning a careful descent, making sure to place my feet on and grip stable objects protruding from the wall. Once I was standing on the grass outside, I moved to the front and hailed a carriage, and one immediately came for me.
Connor followed quickly behind, his movements down the wall much faster due to more forgiving clothes.
"Well, I'm sorry you never got your letters," I said quietly, a little frustrated I never got to kill, or even meet Victor Boudet. He reached in his coat and pulled out two letters, flashing them to me before stuffing them back away. "Oh. So you did get what you needed. Well, Connor, it was nice knowing you. Maybe we'll meet again." He bowed his head, and I mimicked a small curtsy before stepping into the carriage.
As the horse clopped away down the street, I glanced out the back at Connor, who stood where I'd left him, just watching me. I allowed a smile to slip through my lips, then sat back forwards for the long ride home.