I entered Gideon Blackwood's room silently, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. He was arguing with a black-clad figure—an assassin, no doubt sent to silence him before he could reveal too much. Neither had noticed my presence yet.
"Please," Gideon whimpered, backing against the wall. "I haven't said anything. I swear!"
The assassin moved closer, his blade catching the moonlight. "Orders are orders. You're a liability now."
I cleared my throat. "Am I interrupting something?"
Both men whirled around. The assassin's eyes widened behind his mask, while Gideon's face drained of color.
"Knight..." Gideon whispered, a mixture of terror and desperate hope in his voice.
"You shouldn't be here," the assassin said, shifting his stance to face me. "This doesn't concern you."
I laughed, the sound devoid of humor. "A plot against Isabelle Ashworth doesn't concern me? That's where you're wrong."
