Author's Note:

I really hope those who actually liked this story haven't forgotten about it. D: I never meant to go this long without an update, and while this is a very, very short update, I hope you understand that I do not intend to abandon this project. I promise I'll have more out soon.

Palace of Royals, 1776, "Betrayal is nigh…"

"Why so glum, Arthur?"

I ignored Gilbert, knowing very well that if I were to respond he would turn it back to me and piss me off. I didn't need his patronizing, not now, not when my friend was suffering. Kiku had returned with the information, but the bloody imbecile…

Lupe, I can't even…I pity him. I sympathize with him, and that's not normal for me. Why did he have to take risks? Of course, he was doing it for the sake of our clan,but by sneaking out without Roderich's permission he had broken a code and, therefore, was punished accordingly. It was the most difficult thing anyone had ever asked of me: to watch my companion with a truly loyal heart face the sting of the whip on his back and arms and legs…bloody hell, was it difficult. I refused to cry, but my heart, whatever is left of it, ached for Kiku. He held on as long as he could; he put on a brave face and took it like a true assassin. It was the last task he would ever carry out with the title. No, after spending the night alone in his chamber without medication or proper numbing, he would be forced to live the life of a looter…and I would never share a meal or even a friendly conversation with him again. He would be the scum of the abbatia, and it shattered me…

I walked on behind the others, our shadows mingling with the darkness of the woods beyond King George's estate. I don't recall when Gilbert had finally decided to leave me alone, but as I turned around I noticed that he was no longer behind me, instead having taken his rightful place at the front of the group with Roderich, his soon to be father-in-law. I forced myself to forget Kiku for the time being, as there were other complications at hand that required my – our immediate attention. An assassin knew a mission was serious if an entire pack was asked to come along. I noticed my comrades scanning the woods, scanning for Rotomagense agents no doubt. At this a thought occurred to me, one I tried desperately to squelch lest I become too distracted. Would Alfred be among those invading?

It was silly. I was silly. How could I even consider that man, my enemy, in times when I could not afford to be selfish? Kiku was suffering. Queen Caroline's life was in jeopardy. What made him so memorable to me? We met once. He had beautiful eyes, a flawless will to succeed – only to surrender at my feet sacrificially. I only assumed it was because of my presence, and that flattered me. It was obviously sexual desire, though I suppose this newfound realization of my own sexuality was…well, rather astonishing to say the least. I wasn't too particularly concerned with it, yet I had never considered that I may be attracted to men. Unfortunately with this realization several smaller realizations that drove me to migraine came with it, and so I forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand.

We were huddled fairly close together, the lot of us bearing mossy green cloaks in an attempt to camouflage ourselves. The guards had been previously alerted to our presence, and both his highness and Queen Caroline had been informed, though unfortunately riding back to Gandavum was out of the question for King George at the present moment. Half of us would continue to circle the perimeter, and the other half would take refuge inside the palace should any from the rival clan attempt to sneak within its walls. Roderich's voice alerted at the edge of the wall, we were refused access through the front gate as to avoid suspicion among the commonfolk, and I was temporarily free of any lingering thoughts of Kiku or Alfred.

"Gilbert, Arthur, and Toris – you three are to position yourselves inside the castle walls. Avoid the front gate at all costs. I understand what I am asking of you will be difficult, what with the daylight and all, but I expect each of you to be prepared should any Rouen attempt to sneak in. We've been caught with our trousers down in the past," he trailed off, closing his eyes for a moment as if clearing the event from his memories. "Not again. No carelessness, no alcohol," and again he paused, eyeing the agents with a stern scowl, "and no casualties. I expect to see every assassin return to the abbatia. Watch each other's backs."

He nodded then, receiving a nod from each of us in return, and we went our separate ways. Gilbert took off at a mad dash, no doubt with a plan of his own on how to remain undetected among the paranoid officials. Toris began to follow nervously, sparing me a peculiar look. I wasn't sure why Toris had been allowed this opportunity, he had never been very popular amongst our people, but I figured watching his back would be the best way to reassure him. I watched briefly as the others scattered, some taking to the trees, others scaling the walls, and then I turned to follow Gilbert.

Shilling Pond, Behind the Palace of Royals

"Um, Ivan?" He turned only briefly to glare at me, never ceasing his exhausting pace. It was so early. I didn't have any energy or any breakfast, so it wasn't my fault I was being left behind. "We planning on taking a swim?" The pond was certainly private enough to do so, surrounded by a thick, thorny brush. It was backed up against a stone wall, obviously at the palace's rear, though I still had yet to find any secret entrance above the pond.

"The tunnel is hidden beneath the water. So yes," he explained, coming to the edge of the pond, "swimming is a must." I groaned. I had just had these robes washed, too. Red and murky brown wasn't an attractive combination.

"Where is everyone?" I murmured more to myself than to him.

"Oh, you don't know?" he almost sounded amused. "They stayed behind."

` "…what?" I gaped. There was no way. Benigno numine, we couldn't possible handle an entire group of Vendeuils by ourselves. "This seems…really unprofessional, I mean really, really unprofessional. What the hell are we doing here without our clan? Is this what Alexander considers strategy?"

"No, but I do," he hissed, still staring at the water. "Don't you see? If the entirety of our clan were to sneak in, what would that sacrifice? Think, Alfred. Just think. Would we continue to have the element of surprise if we ran in with our entire population of assassins?" I thought about this, though the unrelenting doubt must have been evident in my silence. "I can take her out, Alfred. We can take her out. We don't need to risk any more lives. Please, just consider the advantage we have with two extremely talented assassins," he turned to me then, placing a steady hand on my shoulder. I ignored the urge to push it away. "They are crass and clumsy. They intoxicated themselves to their own misfortunes. We can handle anything they throw at us." His eyes locked with mine, and though a part of me accepted that his notion of us being a team was probably little more than his attempt to bate me, the other part was willing to move forward with him.

Ivan was a bastard, but he still had a point. He had a strategy, and I didn't dare argue when I knew absolutely nothing about the inner-workings of the palace. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed his guidance.

He released my shoulder then, and pointed to a spot at the edge of the murky depths. "We should be able to enter somewhere around there. Have you prepared your flintlock?"

"Got it," I smiled, holding it up for him to see before stuffing it back under my belt.

"Good. Let us continue." He dived then, and with a groan I dived in after him. However, I had to conceal a shriek. The water was thick and disgusting, and I could barely see. It was only after I bumped into Ivan that I knew I was heading in the right direction. He must have opened some kind of door, because the next thing I knew we were swimming through a tunnel, and then we were swimming up, and finally I felt an incline of dirt beneath my boots. I followed behind Ivan as we reached the surface. Ivan didn't seem too particularly perturbed by the chill in the air, but I was shivering my pants off. Upon touching the walls, I realized we were in a man-made tunnel. Ivan lit one of the torches on the wall using a match he'd brought along with him. A few rats scurried by, terrified at our imposing, but the tunnel seemed unguarded for the most part.

"Keep walking, Alfred," Ivan chastised me, having already started back on a swift pace. "You never know what could happen down here." Did he always have to be such a cryptic son of a bitch? I ran after him, trying to match his pace though I knew it was probably useless.

"Where the ambush you were telling me about?" I inquired sarcastically, noting how very empty the place was.

"Itching for a fight?"
"Hardly, just itching to get this done and get out of here."

"As am I, Alfred. Try not to relax too much," he offered. "I'm sure they'll be here soon."