Author Note:

So sorry I haven't posted in a while, as you know school work gets in the way of all the fun.

It had been rather amusing to Celaena to find that she was a wanted woman; more so than she was over a year ago. Tern had come back to the Keep one night with his usual severed head and his snarky comments and gestures, but he also brought home a small poster. The handsome reward that was offered for Aldarlan's Assassin alive was extremely generous. She had laughed outright when Arobynn had told her that a young prince had travelled all the way to Endovier to find that his little champion had escaped only a few hours before. Oh, she was in deep shit. The Assassin's Keep was just how she remembered it, the lavish furnishings, crystal chandeliers and the hole in the wall that Celaena had left after throwing a dagger at Lysandra had remained, but there was a cold silence that always followed her around the house as she trained and regained her strength. She put on her mask and hid her tears whenever she walked past Sam Cortland's room never daring to venture inside, until one night she couldn't stand it any longer.

The door barely creaked as her small figure slipped inside. She was frozen – she couldn't feel as she stood in the room, cold and quiet. The room was exactly the way he had left it, over a year ago. The candle was dim on his bedside, just the way he liked it. His bed was made, and his pillows were fluffed as if he didn't go to bed that fateful night. The furniture was lavish and of a dark oak and the room faintly smelt like him. No dust, clearly Arobynn had sent maids to keep this room clean, to punish her for what happened or maybe try to break her? She didn't care anyway because it had worked. She was Celaena Sardothien and she will not be afraid. Nothing broke her, not Endovier, not Arobynn but this, the glimpse of him brought her to her knees.

She walked to his bedside and opened the contents of his drawers. Fountainpens and papers, not much really considering most of his belongings were at the warehouse apartment. She wouldn't dare go anywhere near there. She lifted his pillows to find his nightclothes in their usual spot, folded and tucked under the pillows. She breathed them in as she brought them to her face, they still smelt like him. She wanted to lay there, just for a moment. She wanted to breathe in his scent and pretend just for one moment that this was all an awful dream and she would soon wake up in his warm embrace away from here on some continent where no one knew their names and they could have a life together. She lifted up the sheets to slip in, there was a letter tucked underneath. Unopened and not a single crease as if it were tucked underneath the blankets only yesterday. Celaena stopped, did Arobynn or one of his inner circle place this here? To taunt her? She picked up the letter as if it wore a prized heirloom or maybe an asp, opening it. If this was left here, then Sam would have wanted her to see it. She didn't know if she was more or less reassured to find that the letter was in fact in Sam's handwriting.

I will most likely be dead by the time you read this, so do not contact me thereafter. If this letter somehow reaches you, there are constant correspondents coming through to the heir upon the location of the of le cerf ombre. I have my doubts, but their claims are consistent with the description of la mar de anneax.

If you can not locate the objective, contact the heir to evaluate the option of bringing Al-

The letter itself didn't make sense because the translated Eyllwe was also in code. A chill rippled through her bones at the thought of him keeping secrets when he was alive. Did he carry those secrets to his grave? Judging by the smear of ink across the page as if as he was writing when his arm was ripped from the page. Sam hadn't put this in the envelope, the question was who did?

Loud footsteps rattled the halls, growing radically louder as she quickly stuffed the note in her nightgown pocket. The door burst open, Arobynn had a calm expression as he quietly closed the door with a quiet click. He had wanted her to hear his footsteps coming down the hall and she doubted that he didn't know about the letter. He gave the smallest appearance of grief as he briefly glanced around the room...

His breath was a huff of hot air as he came closer to her, "Are you happy that I kept the room clean?" His voice was cheerful as if Sam hadn't died and he was on a simple assignment and would return within the hour. She didn't answer him. "You know, I have a gift for you." He sighed again and sat on the bed as if it were his own. He pulled out a navy box that was rimmed with gold out of his breast pocket. "I bought it just after you were captured, in hopes of somehow getting you back." Arobynn opened the box to reveal the prettiest of broaches, the best he had ever given her. The mix of diamond and emerald glittered in the faint candlelight as he lifted it up to pin it to her nightgown.

Celaena's breath caught in her throat as he grazed his fingers along her neck, smiling sweetly before he planted the lightest of kisses on her cheek.
"I have another surprise for you." He hummed as he brought her closer to him. Gods he was tall.
"And what is that?"
"A chance to get out. If you want to?" He smiled greedily as he looked her over, "Besides your ready and I don't want you to be cooped up all the time."
She stared at him looking for the deeper meaning behind it. She hated how she could never read him. Arobynn had done this before, right after she had come back from her summer in the Red Desert. Right after he had beaten her unconscious. Was he apologising for the fact that she went to Endovier or for the death of Sam?

"You'll be sent to a different continent, so you will have no worry of being recognised and I think the woman's touch is needed for this particular assignment. I doubt Tern or Mullin could perform such a task." She giggled at that but still, what was this assignment? As if he read her face he said, "It's in Wendlyn and there is a little problem there that I need to fix before I can get you to do anything else."
"So this is personal?" She asked, raising her eyebrows as he grazed his hands along her scared back.
He chuckled, "Somewhat; it's a matter of business. Hector Fotos is a high-end merchant from the Southern Continent instructing trade between Wndlyn and Adarlan. However, my eyes and ears have told me that there are dealing within the slave trade among this trade line and that ruins my investment."
She smirked as he gave her a wicked grin, "So this is personal then, what's your plan?"

The boiling heat radiated off the brick streets as Celaena weaved her way through the carts and sweaty vagrants. Gods it was hot, she could feel the sweat dripping down her neck and into her tunic. It was too hot to stay in the hotel room and she decided that if she found a cool spot to sit she thought that she might become lucky and find a bar that is open at this time to drown out her sorrows. All though she had been free for four months now, the pain hadn't yet eased. Maybe it never will? Maybe the pain of losing Sam will never leave her chest? Or the pain of the whip slicing down her back? As she walked passed a particularly beautiful couple her stomach sunk even further.

The heat was almost unbearable, and she almost sobbed in relief as she stumbled upon a bookstore. The cool air kissed her sweaty face as she brushed through the doors and grazed along the bookshelves. Gods she missed this, to sit and read. A place to go when reality was too unbearable for her. She always loved to read even in a different life, when things weren't that bad. And today, her opinion still hadn't changed.

She flipped through the pages and barely looked up to see a green cloak flap through the door with the ring of the bell. She paid no heed as the hot air and the quite scent of pine and snow hit her in a rush; a familiar scent that she couldn't quite put. She looked up once and glanced at the tall dark figure in the forest green cloak facing away from her, browsing another bookshelf. Celaena decided that the book she currently had, although suspenseful, grew increasingly boring. She brushed her hands along the old spines on a new bookshelf. She glanced along the shelves and decided on a novel. Unfortunately, it was on the top shelf. Gods it was only just out of reach. Her arm was fully outstretched as she was extended to her full height on the tips of her toes but to no avail. She was about to give up when a long muscular arm reached for the book with ease. Celaena turned to thank the man but instead of giving the novel to her, he examined the cover with a quiet stillness.

"La Dame Blanch?" He read aloud before handing it to her. The man was incredibly tall and there was no doubt that he was built with power. A warrior perhaps or an extremely skilled bodyguard, the thought brought chills down her spine. Celaena couldn't see the mans face under his thick, green hood except for his pink lips, that she swore it had the slightest of grins.
"It's a good book." She simply said as she pushed passed him.
"Well if you've already read it, then why read it again?" He had picked another book from the same shelf but placed it back after he grimaced at the cover.
She scoffed, "It's a classic, they're supposed to be reread multiple times." He grinned and that's when she stopped. There on display were two razor-sharp canines peeking beneath his plump lip. He was Fae!

Fear punctured her gut as she gave him a hesitant smile before paying for the book and leaving. He didn't appear to be offended by her abrupt exit, though she couldn't see his face. This man – male couldn't have known who she was. He could pick up her scent there was no doubt about that but what terrified her the most was that those pointed canines and that smile looked very familiar.

Hours had passed since Celaena pushed the thought of the Fae male from the bookstore just as the day had finally cooled down into a sky of crimson, orange and pink. Her plan was simple dispatch Fotos and be done with it. She could leave Rifthold and make a new life on another continent, where no one knew her name or her past. She could hide her fear, her pain, her guilt. She wouldn't have to ever gaze at a Fae again. She could maybe establish a bookshop and lose herself in a novel every day. She could run as far as she wanted and live the life she was supposed to live; the life she was supposed to live with Sam.

She had spent three agonising days stalking Fotos and she had gathered like most wealthy merchants, he was unwed, in his mid-forties and he most certainly loved the company of women. Celaena had smiled at that fact. He was not practically handsome though his golden skin and dark hair did make him look a little bit young. Over the three days, he had many guests come to his house from the many brothels that festered in the steaming city. He also had a band of guards who although let in many 'guests' they were certainly not cheap, to say the least.

There were only five of these hooded guards; two stationed at the front of the house, one at the back and the other two followed the wealthy merchant whenever he left the house. They never let their guard down as they were constantly searching the streets for any possible threats and they rarely ever left their posts. This fact, unfortunately, made her job extremely hard. But she was Celaena Sardothien and she would not be afraid. After all, Arobynn did say that this job needed a woman's touch.

It hadn't taken her long for her to change and prowl around the pleasure district of Wendlyn and surely enough, there was her target flanked by two hooded figures, eyeing the provocatively dressed woman as they stood by doorways. She couldn't approach him without looking sleazy or desperate, although she hated the upbringing alongside Madame Clarisse's courtesans she had to say; in this situation she was grateful. Hector Fotos liked to spend his money lavishly, she had noted. This included women. Drawing back her cloak revealing her rather scandalous violet dress, Celaena sashayed her way past him, brushing past him in the tight crowd. Her dress created the desired effect as he peered at her cleavage practically bulging out of her corset. She was surprised his bodyguards let her get so close to him, perhaps they were not as skilled as she originally thought.

Celaena glanced back at Fotos staring up at him through her thick eyelashes before smiling. Gods she was a wicked thing. Hector followed soot as she led him through the city streets before he finally grasped her arm.
"How much are you worth you pretty little thing?" He huffed into her neck as he brought her closer to him. The guards followed but had stopped a few metres back clearly disgusted beneath their hoods, for all she saw was the tight thin lines of their lips. Good.
She lowered her head before giving the merchant a sultry look that she had seen many courtesans in Rifthold do, "It depends what you would like to do." Her stomach churned and it was hard not to gag as he ran his dark hands along her sides.
"I'm willing to treat my woman properly, would you care to come back to my apartments?"
She giggled and twirled a blond lock around her finger as she looked up into his brown eyes, "It would be my pleasure to be of service to you sir." Oh – he really liked that.

It wasn't long before Celaena was swept into a carriage and was taken back to the house. She had memorised ever entry and exit already but quickly scanned every nook and cranny in the lavish home for any other possible escape routes. The two guards were following behind them. She stifled a smirk; they were going to wait outside the door. She would have to put on a show then. The room was exquisite, nothing short of the most expensive furniture and items just like the rest of the house. There was a small desk in the corner scattered with papers and other documents. Good, she could maybe get something for Arobynn if the Belladonna worked for long enough.

"Would you like a drink precious?" She smiled at him, batting her eyelashes as she excepted. Pouring the glasses of wine, he sat on the large bed and motioned her to do so. She was going to be sick. Every instinct in her screamed to run away and hide. She was free from Arobynn anyways she had already paid off her debts. Why couldn't she just leave now?
"What a lovely place you have." She said sweetly as she was brought into Fotos' lap.
"I do like to spoil myself." She nearly gagged right then and there. This man was a sick bastard and he needed to die quickly, not for Arobynn's sake but for hers. She needed to make a bold move on him, so he didn't notice what she was about to do.

Celaena lunged herself at him, gaining a growl of approval as she kissed his neck. As she brought him into a kiss, she dropped the contents of the small bottle that had been in her pocket into his goblet. He was awful, as he groped her, and she stifled a wine as he began to undo her bodice. She pulled back before stepping off the bed, giving him a seductive smile.
"How much are you willing to pay?" She asked, her voice sweet yet heated.
He smirked, "Although you dress like a lady, you are no less a whore." He took a great gulp of his drink as he grazed his eyes down her body. He named his price but she simply shook her head. She needed time. The façade continued for another minute before his language became slurred and his eyes became droopy. The Belladonna would only knock him out for a few hours, so she had to move quickly. Celaena loosened her bodice before stripping the unconscious man of his shirt and trousers. She glanced over the documents of the desk before stashing a few in her bodice. She put on her cloak before strolling out the door.
"Thank you, sir." Her voice was sweet, and she blew a kiss to one of the guards before strutting down the halls and out of the house.
"Slut." one of the guards huffed as she turned a corner. She smirked; she had most certainly done her job well then.

It was not long before Fotos finally came back to consciousness. She had been perched up on the roof of the house opposite for about three hours now, dressed in her leather and her hidden weapons with a bow and arrow in hand poised to strike. The night was still warm, but a flowing breeze licked her neck as she hid in the shadows. If the guards suspected anyone for his death it would be the pretty little prostitute with revealing dress and seductive words. Hector stood from his bed and began walking around the room in a confused daze. Celaena smirked, the last thing he had seen was her untying her corset.

She pulled back her arrow, aiming for the eye. This was her last kill and she would be gone. She could go somewhere far away from here or anywhere near Adarlan. She could vanish like frost on an autumn morning, no one would know her, she could begin a new life. The arrow flew just as a hand landed on her shoulder pulling her back. She jolted away from the two men in a sudden movement, she wasn't even sure if her first arrow hit her intended target. It was a mere second before her second arrow flew, landing into one of the men causing a cry of pain. They were fast and graceful on the roof, bobbing and weaving through her daggers before they had her pinned to the ground. The men were the trained guards that were stationed outside of Hector's bedroom and for the first time, she saw their faces.

Fear speared through her as she took in the sharp canines and pointed ears. These men – males were Fae! Unmistakably Fae! She was pinned to the tiles by one of the most beautiful men she had seen. Hot blood pulled onto her face as the blond male that she had shot was tying up her arms whilst the brunette straddled her, preventing her from moving.
She whimpered as the brown-haired male knelt over her neck, his canines so close to ripping out her throat, "Well sweetheart, you are definitely the highlight to this job." His chuckle vibrated through her and she continued to struggle underneath him. He chuckled again, "Don't bother trying anything or I'll rip out your throat and it won't be painless. So, you're going to come with us and back to the house and we can have a little fun." Celaena knew that he could practically inhale the terror that was radiating off her. A sudden burning sensation rattled through her. A feeling that she had not
"Lorcan, hurry up." The latter's stress in his voice was clear. The wound had not stopped bleeding and she took a small satisfaction in the fact that she had laced her arrows with poison, not to mention she had just missed the heart and was surprised at the speed of the shot as she fired it.

She was hauled off the roof in a swift motion and was carried back into the merchant's house and down into the basement, where no one could hear her scream. There was a chair in the cellar with ropes and chains already prepared for her. As if they knew the moves she was making for days. Were they possibly working for the King to gain a handsome sum? The three other guards were also Fae and also strikingly beautiful. She growled as the brunette – Lorcan leaned onto the chair that she was now tied up in.
He stared at her for a while as if reading her every move and thought before finally speaking, "So are you a whore or an assassin then?" The room was silent except for the occasional hisses of the wounded currently being treated by a silver-haired Fae with a long dark tattoo that snaked across the left side of his face and down into his shirt. The pattern of swirls and lines were the language of the Fae that she had once studied in a different life. A life where she was not forced to kill or battered by scars. A life that she didn't just exist but a life that she lived. Celaena wondered for the smallest of moments, what brought him to get that tattoo?

She continued to stare at the pair, frowning in the slightest of confusions. They stared back. "I don't feel like I need to tell you when you already know the answer." She finally said, before smiling at the giant male perched above her.
Lorcan stepped back, glancing at the injured Fae before smirking, "Gavrielle has dealt with worse."
"The wound isn't deep, it just won't stop bleeding because of the poison." The silver-haired male finally spoke. He was a warrior, there was no doubt about that, the tattoo was also on his blood-soaked hands as he tended to the male – Gavrielle was his name.
"Well, she knows how to play games. Shall we play a game?" Lorcan's voice was like venom. This wasn't an interrogation he was toying with her like food on a plate. They had foreseen this as if she were the pray. He chuckled, "Have you figured it out yet, Aelin Galathynius?"

Author Note:

Thank you so much for all the support that this story has received. I love writing this one and I hope you like the second chapter. Please review and if you have any questions about where this story is going private message me!

Thanks Belle,

xoxoxox