Sonya
Book One
“I heard the Sisterhood has been recruiting members by the minute.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear. The Sisterhood is dwindling, we all know it. There have been no assassinations for months now.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, Bulgard.”
“But it does. The Sisterhood is dying. The Empire is rising and gaining more control over its people as we speak. Before we know it, there will be no more Sisters.”
As the guards walked out of earshot, Sonya dropped down from the ceiling and landed on the hard marble floor of the Grand Hall with barely a sound. She glanced at the small door that led to the kitchens on the left then straightened and walked down the hall, hidden within the shadows. She faintly heard the voices of the two guards again and flattened herself on the wall. The shadows of their torchlight danced on the stones. Sonya made a snap decision and sprinted forward. Before they could make a sound, two knives shot from her wrists and through their throats. Blood splattered everywhere and she snatched the blades before their bodies even hit the ground.
Sonya swiftly made her way through the Grand Hall until she found the window she was looking for. She gripped the hooks in her hand, stood on the sill and plunged the first hook into a weak spot in the stone.
“Here we go,” she grunted before heaving herself up, kicking her steel toed boot into the stone. She climbed slowly and deliberately, careful not to make any sound. Once she reached the ledge, she swung herself up and over, kicking over the guard that had not noticed her. The other one had time to widen his eyes before a hook caught him in the face. Swerving, Sonya caught the other guard in the gut with her boot. He fell over the edge and landed with a hard splat.
No one had noticed the short fight and Sonya crept unseen along the castle roof, dodging between Watchtowers and silently taking down guards as she went. Finally she made it to the end, where the King’s glorious bedroom lied beneath her feet. A grin spread her lips and Sonya flipped over the ledge, dropping onto the sill. The window was locked, but she quickly picked it. The glass opened without a sound and for a moment Sonya crouched there, watching the King sleep. His Lady Wife slept next to him, her back to Sonya’s face.
Sonya unsheathed the dagger at her hip, stood and with a flick of her wrist, the dagger was in the air and pierced the King’s chest. His eyes snapped open, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and then he went limp. The King was dead and not even his Lady Wife had awoken when the blade pierced his heart.
Sonya smiled.
“Don’t believe everything you hear. The Sisterhood is dwindling, we all know it. There have been no assassinations for months now.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, Bulgard.”
“But it does. The Sisterhood is dying. The Empire is rising and gaining more control over its people as we speak. Before we know it, there will be no more Sisters.”
As the guards walked out of earshot, Sonya dropped down from the ceiling and landed on the hard marble floor of the Grand Hall with barely a sound. She glanced at the small door that led to the kitchens on the left then straightened and walked down the hall, hidden within the shadows. She faintly heard the voices of the two guards again and flattened herself on the wall. The shadows of their torchlight danced on the stones. Sonya made a snap decision and sprinted forward. Before they could make a sound, two knives shot from her wrists and through their throats. Blood splattered everywhere and she snatched the blades before their bodies even hit the ground.
Sonya swiftly made her way through the Grand Hall until she found the window she was looking for. She gripped the hooks in her hand, stood on the sill and plunged the first hook into a weak spot in the stone.
“Here we go,” she grunted before heaving herself up, kicking her steel toed boot into the stone. She climbed slowly and deliberately, careful not to make any sound. Once she reached the ledge, she swung herself up and over, kicking over the guard that had not noticed her. The other one had time to widen his eyes before a hook caught him in the face. Swerving, Sonya caught the other guard in the gut with her boot. He fell over the edge and landed with a hard splat.
No one had noticed the short fight and Sonya crept unseen along the castle roof, dodging between Watchtowers and silently taking down guards as she went. Finally she made it to the end, where the King’s glorious bedroom lied beneath her feet. A grin spread her lips and Sonya flipped over the ledge, dropping onto the sill. The window was locked, but she quickly picked it. The glass opened without a sound and for a moment Sonya crouched there, watching the King sleep. His Lady Wife slept next to him, her back to Sonya’s face.
Sonya unsheathed the dagger at her hip, stood and with a flick of her wrist, the dagger was in the air and pierced the King’s chest. His eyes snapped open, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and then he went limp. The King was dead and not even his Lady Wife had awoken when the blade pierced his heart.
Sonya smiled.
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