INDIGO

Nineteen punches. Thirteen hurtled objects. Seven attempted stabs. Three knives to the throat. One gun to the head.

I don't know how I managed to escape the mob of angry Rebels alive, but I had. Perhaps it was only because Wolf or Laine or any of the leaders didn't join the mob. But they didn't stop the crowd either.

Not even Nydia.

I cursed as I ran my fingers over the multiple bruises forming. A long gash ran the entire length of my arm from where someone's knife cut my shirt—yet another scar to add.

I walked over to my shattered mirror, ignoring the shouts outside my room. A bruise formed just above my chin. Another one sat upon my shoulder. My lip was split, blood dried.

The door shook with the force of a dozen people pounding against it. The lock would hold. Prison cells always did.

A shout resounded through the hall, and the pounding faded to silence. There was a knock.

"Indigo," Wolf said. "It's me."

I hesitated.

"Please open the door."

I sighed. I couldn't run forever. I turned the lock and stepped back. Wolf opened the door.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, locking the door, before leaning back on it. His shoulders sagged, and for the first time, he looked tired. We stared at each other in silence, waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Wolf cleared his throat.

"How are you doing?"

I don't even know.

"Are you going to arrest me again?"

Wolf shook his head. "No."

"Kill me?"

"They can try, but I'm not going to."

I tilted my head, confused. "But I broke your trust."

"Did you?" he said as he took a few steps forward. He was standing right next to one of the dozen white rose paintings that I couldn't fix. "Did you try to kill anyone? Give me away to the Crowns? Sabotage my plans?"

"No."

"Then you didn't break my trust."

I shook my head. "But I didn't tell you about my mother's affair."

"Good. Means I didn't recruit a fool."

I took a step back. I couldn't tell if he was being truthful or trying to test me.

"I'm not trying to trick you, Indigo," Wolf said. "I mean it. You had a dozen opportunities to stab us in the back, and you didn't. I can see it in your eyes. You want the Crowns gone. And maybe you're not loyal to the Rebels, but as long as our interests align, you're on our side."

"The Ravens want the Crowns gone too. How do you know I'm not working for them? How do you know I'm not the murderer?"

"I don't. It's a risk I'm willing to take. So," he held up his hand, "let's make a pact. No matter what, we will trust each other until we get through this. Deal?"

I hesitated. He just blindly put his faith in someone who lied to his face. How could I ever trust him to make the right choices?

You already do.

I clasped his hand and he squeezed it before letting go.

"So, if you weren't here to kill me, why are you here?"

"Do you want to see your mother?"

I blinked. "Why would I?"

"If you thought she was capable of revealing your secret, you would've tried harder to stop her. You didn't expect her to do so, but she did it anyway. Don't you want to know why?"

He was right. The question was nagging me, though I feared I already knew the answer.

"But I don't think everyone else will be pleased."

"I'll take care of it," he smiled. "One of the advantages of being lieutenant. You get to boss everyone around."

"Except Laine."

"Unfortunately," he sighed. "If I could, we would actually get stuff done."

Then why not try to hold an election? Why not beat Laine and take control?

He placed a hand on the doorknob. "Shall we?"

I nodded and he threw the door open.

♕ ♕ ♕

We were walking through the halls of the lower floors.

Thankfully, Wolf had guards already standing outside my door, ready to escort us through the angry Rebels. Of course, they were Rebels themselves and probably wouldn't have done much if Wolf wasn't around, but it was a comfort. At least there would be someone in the way before I had to pull out my knives and risk killing someone.

When we reached the end of the hall, Wolf nodded to Cree who turned to the two guards standing around the prison cell.

"Take a break," Cree told them.

The guards looked between him and me. Finally, one spoke up.

"But, the prisoner is-"

"-entirely safe under his watch," Wolf interrupted.

The guard hesitated for a moment before nodding. Finally, he walked away, the second in tow.

"I could've done that myself," Cree said.

"Not with style."

"Ouch."

Wolf looked at me. "I need to talk to Laine and sort things out, but Cree will be right here if you need backup of any sort."

I nodded and Wolf nodded back at the both of us before walking down the hall. I turned back to Cree.

"You're not mad at me?" I asked.

"I was," he admitted. "I still am a little. I think. But if Wolf says you're still trustworthy, he's probably right."

He placed the key in the lock. "Ready?"

I nodded and he turned the key, swinging open the door. He flipped on the lights.

My mother squinted and looked up. She was crouched in the corner, looking exactly as she had in Cressida—hair thinned, limbs frail, cheeks sunken, dark circles lining her eyes. I clenched my fists at my sides as she stared into my eyes, unmoving. Cree shut the door, leaving me alone with my mother.

"You took your time," she said.

"It took a while to sort out the ruckus you caused."

"You caused. You didn't listen to my advice."

"To free you?" I scoffed. "Is that why you did all of this? Because I refused?"

"No," she said. "I did it because it was necessary. How long before they found out you're a monster?"

"I'm not a monster. You are. You and the man who murders his children."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Edsel? Is that what they told you?"

She laughed, the sound dry and humorless.

"Who else would've put a target on our back?"

"Gladys," she spat. "The Fortier Queen. Knowing the bitch, she probably got jealous or felt insecure without her daughter as the Heir."

"How are you sure?"

"Arson is more her style, not Edsel's. Did you really think I would fall for a man who murders his own children?" She shook her head. "He's done many terrible things, but he would never hurt his own blood and flesh."

My mind was whirling. "The Fortier Queen is one of the Royals. This doesn't change anything. It just proves that they're as bad as the Crowns themselves."

"So you still think they're monsters," she shrugged. "That's fair. But don't you remember what I taught you when you were young? When you asked why the previous government locked away the Assassins before they descended into Anarchy?"

The memory came back clear as day. I was sitting outside in my mother's lap, the Rise of the Assassins spread out on the table in front of us. I wondered why the Assassins were placed in prison and called "bad people" if they would soon be the ones to save the entire nation and bring peace.

I looked back down at my frail mother, whose lips curled up, delighted to be once again the one teaching the ways of the world. My stomach lurched.

"No one is ever truly pure or evil," she repeated. "Everyone has demons. Demons that haunt them. Demons that destroy them. Demons they embrace."

I clenched my fists again. "So?"

"So, the same principle applies to the Crowns. And your father."

"Father was not a monster," I hissed. "Don't you dare destroy his memory for your gain."

"Edsel never hurt his blood. But your father had no such limitations," she said.

I stilled. "What are you talking about?"

"What do we do to those born weak?"

"You mean people with disabilities?" I asked. "The Assassins place them in special care facilities."

"We get rid of them by any means necessary. Erase them from our lives. After all, why should one weak cub drag down the entire pack? If you're useful, you survive. If you aren't, you die."

"What's your point?"

"Did you ever wonder why your father's an only child?"

It had occurred to me after he died and mother was placed in prison. I wished there was someone else, some other relative or remnant of my father. But now, if what she was implying was true...

"The Fluors have a long history with multiple different forms of disabilities. When I was pregnant with you, he was apprehensive about whether or not you would be... healthy. He told me about Jocelyn Fluor. His sister. Your aunt."

I had an aunt? I scrambled through my memories for any trace of her but found nothing. Still, the name was familiar, though I wasn't sure from where or why.

"She was born with epilepsy. They tried to train her anyway, but her condition still proved to be a hindrance. She couldn't handle the stress of a fight and, as an Unassailable, that was her death sentence. They placed her in a care facility when she was twelve—young enough never to be admitted to Evandor Prep. There, she was watched over by lower-ranking graduates from Evandor, set to live the rest of her life knowing she was born to fail. Three years later, she drowned herself in a bathtub."

"You know the best part?" she continued. "I checked the visiting and messaging records. Your father never visited. He didn't think twice about her until her funeral."

I swallowed. She was lying. This was all wrong. My father would never be so unsympathetic, so cruel.

But was it even considered cruel in his eyes? When one grew up with a singular ideology and acted upon it, was it truly cruel?

"The only question left, little dove, is what kind of monster you want to be—Fortier, Sharpe, or Fluor?"

I shivered. "None."

She laughed. "Sweet child. If you don't choose one, the world will choose for you."

"Why? How does this benefit you?"

"Because I'm all you have left. I just want what's best for you."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "You're right. That's all you want. To let me admit I'm a monster, so I'll be back in your paws."

"Say what you will. But you're all alone. You betrayed the Assassins. The Streeters hate you. You couldn't face your demons with people to lean on. So what happens when you have no one?"

I shook my head and twisted the doorknob.

"I'm not alone."

I walked out of the cell and left my mother to rot.

Hey guys!

I'm going to start editing "School of the Crown Assassins" again. It's mostly going to be copy editing and proofreading since I want to save major changes for a personal, offline manuscript in case I ever try querying to agents.

But, I just wanted to let you guys know so you aren't surprised about any notifications!

Also, I might publish chapters on Tuesday as well during the summer if I manage to complete them by then, but it's not a guarantee. Still, I should have a chapter every Friday unless unforeseen events occur (been getting a lot of those the past few weeks).

Anyways, see y'all!

~Sreenija Paruchuri, Queen of Psychos, Lover of Ostriches and Hot Chocolate and Donut-holes, Hater of the Sun