A/N: So ... it's been a while ... *extreme guilt* ... all I can say is it was a killer semester and next semester is only gonna be worse ... so updates will be VERY sporadic (or just nonexistent)

The chapter I had originally planned refused to make any kind of sense, so I gave up and wrote this instead. I'm experimenting with the style here - please tell me if it's understandable!

Assassination

ONE

Lios's earliest memory was of their nursemaid - she sang him to sleep every night that Mother could not, she smiled and played with him when Father was busy with papers and the army, she was pretty and smelled nice and felt safe. Lios knew all this, remembered all this -

- but it was a secondhand memory, a memory of a memory.

Lios's earliest memory was of a dark night, woken by arms that had grabbed him away from the warm body beside him (Duzie!), of being torn away from his brother, his twin, by a woman who smelled nice and felt safe, and in the moment before he heard Duzie scream, Lios realized that this was their nursemaid, who had sung them to sleep only an hour ago, who smiled and was pretty and smelled nice and felt safe -

- but that was in the moment before a knife flashed and Duzie screamed and the woman holding him stumbled and almost fell to the ground and Lios reached for something deep inside himself and magic flared and light burst in the dark room -

- the room was lit and Lios could see now and Duzie was standing, facing him with a dagger that Duzie had only just started training with, and Duzie's left arm was hanging useless at his side, bleeding, at a strange angle (a broken bone that had healed by the time morning came), and Duzie's eyes were dark and dangerous and Duzie snarled -

- snarled at the woman who was holding Lios, the woman who was their nursemaid, who was pretty, and smelled nice, and smiled, and sang -

- and Lios was torn, for a moment, in two directions. Duzie was hurt - but this was their nursemaid, who was pretty and smelled nice and smiled and sang -

"Take your hands off my brother!"

"I won't let you corrupt Lios any longer, you demon!"

- and Lios didn't know what to do - the voice of his constant companion had never sounded so imperious, so dangerous before and the voice of their nursemaid was not suited to angry hissing, it was a voice for singing, a voice for laughter and smiles - who were these strangers who had replaced the people in his life? -

- and then the woman holding Lios brought her other hand up into Lios's field of view, and she was holding a knife - the dagger Lios had been training with -

... and the blade was red with blood ...

Lios's earliest memory was of their nursemaid trying to kill his brother.

Lios does not remember anything else of their nursemaid - nothing about how sweet her singing was, neither how pretty she looked when she smiled, nor how graceful and gentle she was when she had to carry Lios to bed.

What Lios remembers of their nursemaid was what her voice sounded like in a snarled angry hiss, what she looked like with hatred and murder written in her eyes, that she was clumsy but deadly with a knife, how rough her hands were when she grabbed Lios.

Lios's earliest memory was of blood and death and betrayal.

Lios learned at the age of four that no one can be trusted.