PHOENIX

 I walked through the streets of Cressida. Not much had changed since I left years ago—assassins swarmed the streets, Streeter servants dressed in white with blue and gold cuffs scrambled back and forth, Assassin children stood in groups and bragged about the weapons they had or the new Tab they received for their birthday. The streets were familiar, their depths and coming back to me slowly, though the memories remained a distant dream.

The only difference was that all of the Assassins were dressed in black. They all wore a dark blue half cape in respect for the Queen Intellect, except for the Unassailables who also had golden stitching around the borders. The Streeter servants had Intellect blue scarfs wrapped around their necks despite what Assassin class they served. The funeral was today and we arrived just in time.

Fantastic. The first thing I needed on my great return home was a freaking funeral. Not that I was expecting a parade or anything.

Of course, this was a secret, but I was hoping to at least stir up some drama within the family, but I can't do that during Aunt Erilia's funeral as I had basic human morals and sensitivity. Stupid morals.

We passed through the crowd and walked to the edge of the glass path where six guards stood instead of the usual two. Arielle, who changed out of her Streeter clothes and wore her Crown Assassin uniform, approached the guards. They immediately recognized her face and were about to let her through when one's eyes fell on me.

"She with you?"

Arielle nodded.

"Who is she?"

"A new servant."

"We didn't receive any news of a new servant."

Arielle lifted her chin. "Now you have."

She turned on her heel and walked onto the glass path, not looking back. I followed her and none of the guards made a move to stop me or even ask for my name. In fact, most looked down or moved on to the next entree. Only one stared at me though she quickly turned away when she caught me looking.

I couldn't help the smile overtaking my face as I followed Arielle. I almost forgot what power was like. When I was young and foolish, I didn't know what I held in my hands, the puppet strings which I controlled. I only learned when I ran away and already threw it all away. It took a while to fully realize what I lost, a year for the world to show me what it meant to live without power. By then the damage was done. My younger sister already took my position and they forgot about me. There was no going back. All my power was lost.

But now, I had a taste, a mere sip, and like alcohol, it all came rushing back—the euphoria, the way people would never question you, the total control you held over each one as they knew there was nothing they could do in retaliation—it was intoxicating. I wanted more and there was one way to take it all.

I shook my head, clearing it. I would not let Arielle trap me into claiming the Crown without even trying.

We entered the palace and took a side hallway which I knew like the back of my hand. The windows showed the city below and the waterfalls cascading, the reflected sunlight forming shattered rainbows in the mist. In the distance, clouds formed. There was another storm coming.

Arielle entered a large hallway with its columns raising high to hold up the arched ceiling. The roof was glass cut into geometric shapes, the light reflecting through and beams crisscrossing in no particular order. The sides of the hall were filled with various weapons. These were the weapons of the old Crown Fortiers, their favorites hanging forever on the walls for generations to see their legacy. The marble floor was spotless. We were in the hall of the Fortiers.

Arielle pushed through the grand french doors at the end of the hall and walked into another large hall, though it wasn't as tall as the last. At the end stood another large French door that would lead to Edsel and Gladys's room. I could still remember the arched ceiling high above with its paintings of the Assassins' conquer of the Broken States and the formation of Concorde.

It was one big history lesson. The founding Fortiers were certainly a bore.

We veered into a parallel hallway and I realized we were heading to my old room. Was she about to give it back to me? I expected Arielle to have moved into my room when she switched since it would've been suspicious to stay in her old room, plus mine was bigger.

Arielle pushed through another set of French doors and we walked into my old room.

The room was larger than my Chicago penthouse, its ceiling rising high above. Light streamed through windows in the ceiling. Against the opposite wall was a canopy bed with golden, glittering mesh hung down, partially covering the nine-by-nine bed.

To the left was a floating staircase leading to a portion of the bedroom that was a few feet lower than the rest. Weapons sat on each side. The Unassailable symbol was etched with gold into the marble above the personal training portion.

To the right was another lowered portion, but the floor and walls were made purely of glass providing a spotless view of the courtyard outside. Armchairs were spread across the area and the base of an electric fireplace ran the length of the long wall.

"Nexus, shades on," Arielle commanded. A small beep rung from unseen speakers and in seconds, the glass darkened to a pitch-black that was impossible to see through.

I used to have a password over the voice reader to ensure that no one else could use it, but the bitch must've made Damien hack it. Whatever. I didn't care. It's not like I was going to use it.

Arielle turned around and looked me in the eye for the first time since Chicago. A stray strand of her hair was drenched in dry blood and there was a drop still on her collarbone even though she cleaned up and threw away the Streeter clothes at my home.

Well, the home we visited. I'm not one of those losers who only had one house.

After a moment she spoke, "Nexus, how long until the funeral?"

"You have approximately one hour before the funeral procession begins," a female voice responded.

Arielle nodded and walked towards the wall next to the entrance. A seemingly solid portion of the wall slid away at her approach and led us into the bathroom. The bathroom, as always, was small but exquisite. Columns stood on either side of the square bathtub which was pressed against the right wall. Marble steps led up to it. A Tab Screen hung against the wall to ensure one was thoroughly entertained while bathing. A wide shower stood next to it.

To the left was a long counter with two faucets hanging over it. I knew a portion of the counter would bend to form a sink bowl as soon as the faucet was turned on. The toilet sat next to it, small and inconspicuous. I always wondered why someone never decided to make it pure marble, or at least make the toilet paper golden.

Arielle walked across the bathroom and the opposite wall slid away to reveal the closet.

The closet was always more impressive than the bedroom itself. The lights flashed on and three floors filled to the brim with clothes of all sorts rose around us in a circle. There were seating and fitting areas at the center of each floor and the oldest, most famous, or best clothes were dressed on mannequins in glass boxes, on full display. Natural light streamed down from the ceiling above to allow us to try on clothes accurately.

The first floor consisted mostly of fighting gear and casual wear, the second with formal wear and dresses, the third with jewelry and other accessories. The sides of each floor carried shoes to go along with the designated wear.

The closet was a freaking mall.

How I looked forward to robbing the place clean. Especially the jewelry. I could already see the diamonds shining from this far, could practically feel their lure, their pristine cuts and fine edges calling for me. I needed to steal at least one of those diamonds for all the trouble I'd been put through to come here.

"Find what you want for the funeral," Arielle instructed as she sat on a bench in the center of the floor and began prying off her dirty boots.

I shrugged and climbed the steps up to the second floor and started sorting through the uniform side of the floor. There were so which were identical or nearly identical that I kept forgetting which was which. Had I really forgotten how to navigate a decent closet? I became way too accustomed to shit holes these past few years. I needed to renovate my closet when I got back home.

Slowly starting to get bored, I tried annoying my sister.

"Did becoming me somehow give you organizational skills?" I called down to where she was removing her weapons belt.

"No. Ginny keeps everything clean."

"So you're still a slop," I summarized. "on top of being a blonde giraffe. So incompetent."

"Is that why you're leaving me to claim the crown? Because I'm incompetent? "

"Precisely! It's going to be so fun to watch you run around like a headless chicken."

"And if the nation burns in the process?"

I shrugged. "Too many people would be concerned with their own lives to properly guard their banks. More money for me."

Arielle shook her head and went back to unbuckling her weapons belt. I turned back around to the clothes, bored once again. I looked towards the ground where cabinets ran the length of the wall, sitting beneath the hanging clothes. I opened them and began rifling through hoping to find something of interest only to find various undergarments and accessories which would go with the clothes above. Still, it was better than nothing.

I kept pulling and pushing the cabinets in and out until that started getting boring too. But, just when I was about to stop, I came across a cabinet holding nothing but a gun.

It wasn't surprising to find a gun in the Crown Heir's room, but it should've been with all of the other weapons. I pulled it out and recognized it after only a moment.

I grinned, glad that I'd found something else to torment Arielle with.

"Isn't this the gun father accidentally sent you?" I asked.

Arielle looked up at the gun, knowing exactly what I was talking about, but I kept going.

"A pristine gun. He tried sending it to my room for my birthday and the servant accidentally placed it at your doorstep. Poor girl. It was her first day and she nearly lost a finger."

Arielle glared, but it was only half-hearted as she stared at the gun as if it was covered in poison.

"You stopped him. You saved her," Arielle said after a moment. "Why did you?"

I shrugged. "Cause you were sobbing and it was annoying. Almost as annoying as the way you hid the gun where no one could find it and refused to give it back."

"I got it first. It was mine."

"Doesn't matter. It was supposed to be mine. Of course, I let it slide. After all, what was it that father gave you on your birthday that year? Some ugly necklace."

"Grandma's ugly necklace," Arielle corrected.

I scoffed. "How considerate, the way he gave you grandma's worst necklace out of the hundreds she must've worn."

"It was her favorite."

"Oh I know, it must've been quite valuable. I'm estimating around three million, give or take 150k. But I'm just saying that I got dozens of gifts for mine, including the gun. And that was just one birthday."

Arielle stood and placed her hands on her hips as the confident facade of an all-powerful Crown Assassin fell back in place. It was one I had rarely ever seen in her save for the few times I got on her bad side when she was younger. I didn't even know if she was capable of it, to be honest. Not until she stood up for a position she didn't even want and massacred everyone in the street. It was only then that I thought that she was capable of holding any sort of power, and I was seeing it again now.

"Funny," she said, poison and arrogance lacing her words, "how it all became mine. How sad, that the original owner disappeared. But of course, everything lost is always found. But who will find her first? Will it be the Assassins who will want her back on the throne? Or will it be the Ravens who would use her and cut her from the inside out?"

I smirked. "Giving threats you can't deliver? Not very smart."

She tilted her head patronizingly. "Who said I won't deliver?"

"Sell me to the Ravens and all of your hopes and dreams will burn to ash."

"Does it? Because I only want you so that I can step away from the Crown. The Ravens would use you to take the Crown for themselves. The only difference is it'll belong to them, not you, which means they will continue to suppress the Streeters you've grown so fond of. Maybe they'll kill Tressa Richards. If I barely had any patience for her, they won't have any."

Did the little bitch just threaten Tressa?

I was about to retaliate, but she continued before I could say anything.

"In the end, your world will be the burning to the ground, not mine. That's something you should understand now that you're here. I'm not that scared little girl anymore. I've grown, I've learned. I get whatever I want, whenever I want. You can't stop me even if you try."

I regained my composure and scoffed, "Funny you should say that when you're pretending to be me. You're only a shadow, little sister. You've only lasted this long because you've never picked a fight with me. But by all means, please wage war. It'll be fun."

Arielle smirked, "We'll see."

She climbed up the steps and pulled out a formal black assassin suit and its cape. She cast me a sideways glance as if just realizing that I was still standing there.

"I don't think you need the premium clothes anymore. After all, you want to remain a Streeter, don't you? I'm sure the ones you're wearing at the moment are perfectly fine."

The sheer audacity.

I stood my ground. "Of course. I do prefer wearing versatile clothes that I could use to blend in and chop off the heads of pretty blonde girls who played their hand too far."

She smiled poison and descended the stairs again, making her way to the mirror to wear her funeral clothes. I followed after a moment, making my way to the door when she called out, "I thought you could stay in my old room, but perhaps I misunderstood your intentions. Perhaps it would be better suited if you stayed in the servants' quarters."

I turned and glared, but she only smiled wider. "You did just say you wanted to blend in with the Streeters."

I smiled too. "I can blend in just fine in Daria Fortier's pile of rubbish. Puts me close to my targets."

She shrugged, the smile not wavering. "Suit yourself."

I turned on my heel and marched out of her room, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing the anger rise. I had no interest in claiming the Crown or the luxuries of the Golden Palace, but it didn't mean she could undermine me in the process. No, she was the one begging me to come here. She was the lesser of the two. She would do good to remember it. Otherwise, she would never see me coming.

By the time I'm through, she'll learn a very valuable lesson: I always win.