Artyom stared down at the floor of the coach. He was too ashamed to look up.
"We should get a change of clothes, something other than different colored cloaks," said Oksana as they rode towards another inn that Fetch had recommended.
Artyom ignored her and continued to stare at the floor. How could he be so stupid? How could he be so far out of his league, to hire a simple craftsman thinking he was some master assassin? It's not like Teryn encouraged him, there was enough hints to see him for what he was, but Artyom was too blinded by his own ego to see what a mistake he made. The gears and pulleys, the small fee, Teryn's lack of weapons, all explained by the most spurious leaps of logic on Artyom's part, while the answer was so simple it was embarrassing to admit.
"We should lay low, probably stay that way till Frederick and Count Petyr are finished their business," continued Oksana.
A few months of skirting around criminals, and he thought he was a master crook himself. Throwing money around to hire killers like it was second nature. He should have been back at the Barony, using that gold to improve the lot of those he lorded over. That would have truly honored his father, not this mad, immature, childish, juvenile….
"Artyom? Artyom? Are you listening to me?" asked Oksana.
Artyom blinked several times to snap himself out of his fugue before raising his eyes towards Oksana. "Where did I go wrong? Why was I so stupid?"
Oksana shook her head. "People make mistakes when they want to believe in something greater. At least your mistake only made you look foolish in front of Captain Fetch. "
Artyom rolled his eyes. "Yes, that makes me feel much better. For a lesser man that would be sufficient, but I am a Bancroft. I still have to face myself and what I have done. How could I have deluded myself so much to get to this point?"
Oksana sighed. "It's not all your fault. I supported you throughout this endeavor. It is as much your fault as it is mine."
Artyom chuckled. "Let's get this straight here. I don't want to sound condescending here, but I am the lord and you are my bodyguard. I am expected to do the leading, while you are expected to do the following."
Oksana grinned in return. "First off, you failed. That was genuine condescension right there. Secondly, I could have ended this anytime I want. I am tasked to guard you, and that includes protecting you from yourself. However, I must admit I believe in your cause and your theories."
Artyom snorted. "Really? Then you are a bigger fool than me. I'm not even sure anymore if the attack on the manor was deliberate or simply an organized attack by bandits. We've found no hard evidence that Count Petyr was responsible for my father's death. Only hints and suggestions. And from those rumors, I've sailed across the world to hire a window maker to kill the man. "
"Technically he's less of a glass worker and more of a carpenter," corrected Oksana before her eyes lowered. "I didn't want to tell you this for fear that it would fuel your paranoia, but I was warned of the attack."
"Eh?"
"The night of the attack, my shift was over and I was about to retire to my room, when I found a letter on my bed. I'm not sure who wrote it, but it told me to leave right away. Well, as you know I didn't. I gathered my sword and potions, and the next thing I knew the manor was on fire."
Artyom shook his head and stared at Oksana. "Why didn't you tell me this?"
Oksana shrugged. "Like I said, I didn't want to fuel your paranoia. You were already angry enough. Also, you treaded dangerously close to getting yourself in real trouble. Not with those backroom thieves we were dealing with, but with your brother. If you had any hard evidence you would have forced the point with Frederick, and he would have locked you away. You of all people should know how dangerous politics is. "
"But..but.. you had evidence to support my accusations. Surely the emperor would have."
".. he would have ignored you. All I had was a piece of paper with a warning. That doesn't prove anything. And also the operative word is had. I lost it during the fire," sighed Oksana as she lowered her eyes from Artyom's gaze.
Artyom tilted his head back and rubbed his temples. "Maybe Frederick is right. Maybe I should just let it go. Father is dead, and I can't change that. Maybe I should focus on moving forward instead of dwelling on the murky past."
Oksana shook her head. "I am sworn to the service of you and your family. If you wish to continue this I will gladly…"
Artyom held an open hand up. "No. Let's just stop running. Frederick is in town. Let's just tell him about this, leaving out the part of hiring the fake assassin of course. Freddy would never let me live that down."
Oksana raised an eyebrow at Artyom. "Are you sure of this? This doesn't sound like the over eager and reckless Artyom I know."
"Well, maybe it isn't. Maybe that Artyom is tired of failing and making a fool of himself," shrugged the young nobleman.
Oksana frowned at Artyom. She then rapped the top of their coach.
"Yes?" asked the short teamster.
"A change of plans," said Oksana. "Take us to the temple district. "
"Yes ma'am," replied the teamster as the their coach braked and turned around.
Artyom closed his eyes and rested on his seat. Soon this will be over.
