SOULBOUND ASSASSIN

THE NIGHT OF THE POISON

It was the smell that Aldric remembered most.

The roses. His mother's favorite flowers, blooming in crystal vases throughout her chambers. The scent had always seemed sweet and joyful to him, a reminder of her warmth and beauty. But on that night, the roses had smelled like death.

He was fifteen years old, and he was holding his mother's hand while she died.

"The poison is spreading," the chief physician said, his voice shaking. "We've tried everything. Antidotes, purges, even experimental magic. Nothing works. I'm sorry, Your Majesty. I'm so sorry."

The King stood frozen, his face white as chalk. He'd been like that since the poison was discovered, barely speaking, barely moving. It was as if his soul had already left his body, leaving behind only an empty shell.

Aldric had no such luxury. He couldn't afford to fall apart. His mother needed him. She was still there, still fighting, and he would not abandon her.

"Mother." He squeezed her hand, his voice cracking. "Mother, stay with me. Please. Just a little longer."

Her eyes fluttered open. They were the same gold-brown as his own, but clouded now with pain and something else. Something that looked like fear.

"Aldric." Her voice was barely a whisper. "My son. My brave, beautiful son."

"I'm here. I'm here." He leaned closer, his face wet with tears. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Listen to me." Her grip tightened, surprisingly strong for someone so weak. "There's something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you long ago."

"Don't speak. Save your strength."

"There's no time." She coughed, a terrible wet sound that made his stomach lurch. "The Shadow Guild. They've infiltrated the court. I discovered their agents—nobles, servants, even some of your father's advisors. They've been selling state secrets to the eastern tribes, plotting to destabilize the kingdom. I was going to expose them. But they found out. They found out, and now..."

Her eyes closed. For a terrible moment, Aldric thought she was gone. But then they opened again, filled with desperate urgency.

"You must finish what I started," she said. "Find the Guild. Destroy them. They'll try to turn you against your father. They'll try to break you. But you must be strong. You must be—"

Another cough. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

"Who?" Aldric leaned closer, his heart pounding. "Who did this to you? Tell me who, and I'll—"

"It doesn't matter." Her hand found his cheek, her fingers trembling. "I've been hunting their leader for twenty years. I've never found him. You won't either. Not through revenge. Not through violence. The only way to defeat the Guild is—"

Her body convulsed. The physicians rushed forward, but it was too late.

The Queen of Alderan died in her son's arms.

---

The days after his mother's death were a blur of grief and rage.

Aldric barely ate. Barely slept. He spent hours in the training yard, driving himself to exhaustion, trying to burn off the fury that burned like fire in his veins. He avoided his father, who had retreated into a shell of grief so deep that he barely seemed human anymore. He avoided his sister, who cried herself to sleep every night and called out for their mother in her dreams.

He couldn't bear the pity in people's eyes. The servants, the guards, the nobles who came to pay their respects—they all looked at him with that same expression. Poor boy. Lost his mother at fifteen. So tragic.

He hated them for it. He hated them all.

The only person who seemed to understand was a young knight named Sir Gareth, who had served as his mother's personal guard for the last five years. Gareth was the one who had found the poison in the Queen's wine. He was the one who had sounded the alarm, though too late to save her.

"Your Highness." Gareth found Aldric in the training yard one evening, three weeks after the funeral. The knight's face was gaunt, his eyes red-rimmed. "I need to speak with you. Privately."

Aldric lowered his sword, his chest heaving. "What about?"

"Your mother's investigation." Gareth glanced around, making sure no one was listening. "She was getting close, Your Highness. Close to exposing the Guild's network in the court. She had names. Evidence. Everything she needed to bring them down."

"Then where is it?" Aldric's voice was sharp. "Where's the evidence?"

"Hidden." Gareth's expression was grim. "The night she died, I found a letter in her chambers. It was addressed to you. She must have written it in case something happened to her."

"Where is it now?"

"I have it." Gareth reached into his tunic and pulled out a sealed parchment. "I've kept it safe. I didn't know who else to trust."

Aldric took the letter, his hands trembling. His mother's seal was unbroken—the crest of the Queen of Alderan, a rose entwined with a sword.

"Thank you," he said. "You've done well."

"Your Highness, I—" Gareth hesitated. "I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you before. The night your mother died, I was supposed to be outside her chambers. I was supposed to be guarding her door. But I was called away on a false errand, a message that seemed urgent. When I returned, it was too late. The poison was already in her system."

Aldric's blood went cold. "Who called you away?"

"A page. He said there was an intruder in the eastern wing. When I got there, there was no intruder. Just an empty room and a message scrawled on the wall." Gareth's voice cracked. "It said, 'The Queen knows too much. Time to sleep.'"

Aldric closed his eyes, his hands clenching into fists.

"Someone in the castle set you up," he said. "Someone who knew you were her protector. Someone who wanted you out of the way."

"Yes." Gareth's voice was barely a whisper. "I've spent three weeks trying to figure out who. But everyone I've questioned has been... unhelpful. The Guild has their hooks deep, Your Highness. Deeper than we thought."

"Then we dig deeper." Aldric's eyes snapped open, blazing with cold fury. "We find them. All of them. And we make them pay."

"I don't mean to overstep, Your Highness, but you're young—"

"I'm fifteen years old." Aldric stepped forward, his voice low and dangerous. "I've just watched my mother die in my arms. I've just learned that the people who killed her are still walking these halls, still plotting to destroy my family. And you want me to wait? To be patient? To let them get away with it?"

Gareth was silent.

"I will not wait," Aldric continued. "I will not rest. I will hunt them down, every last one of them. And when I find their leader, I will make him suffer in ways he never imagined. This I swear."

---

That night, Aldric read his mother's letter.

It was short, barely a page, but every word was burned into his memory.

My dearest Aldric,

If you're reading this, then I am gone. The Guild has finally caught up with me. I always knew this day might come, but I hoped I would have more time. More time to prepare you. More time to love you.

You are the greatest joy of my life. Your father, your sister, you—you are the reason I fought so hard. I wanted to leave behind a kingdom worthy of you. A kingdom free from the shadows that have haunted me since I was a girl.

I know you're angry. I know you're grieving. I know you want to tear the world apart to find the people who did this to me. But I'm asking you, with what little time I have left, to be careful. The Guild is more dangerous than you know. They have allies everywhere. Even in places you trust.

Don't trust blindly. Don't act rashly. Be patient. Be cunning. Be the prince I know you can be.

And when the time comes—when you've found the truth and you're ready to act—remember this: the Guild's greatest weapon is fear. They use it to control people, to break them, to make them betray everything they love. If you let them make you afraid, you've already lost.

I love you, Aldric. I've loved you from the moment I first held you in my arms. I will always love you, no matter what happens.

Be brave. Be strong. Be the king I know you will become.

With all my love,

Mother

Aldric read the letter three times, tears streaming down his face. Then he folded it carefully, pressed it to his heart, and made a vow.

He would find the Guild. He would destroy them. But not for revenge. Not for anger. For the woman who had believed in him, who had loved him, who had died trying to protect him.

He would finish what she started. He would be the prince she'd wanted him to be.

But first, he needed to survive.

---

Over the next three years, Aldric transformed himself.

He threw himself into his studies with a ferocity that shocked his tutors. History, strategy, politics, languages—he mastered them all, burning through texts and treatises like a man possessed. He learned the intricacies of court intrigue, the subtle arts of manipulation and deception. He learned to read people, to see the lies behind their eyes, to identify the shadows that lurked beneath their smiles.

He trained with the sword until his hands bled. He learned to fight with his bare hands, with daggers, with anything he could turn into a weapon. He sparred with the best knights in the kingdom, taking beatings and getting back up, always pushing himself harder.

He cultivated a reputation. Cold. Distant. Untouchable. The prince who cared about nothing but power, who had no room in his heart for sentiment or warmth. He let the court whisper about him, let them think they understood him. Let them underestimate him.

Because while they were gossiping, he was hunting.

He found the Guild's agents one by one. Servants who'd been bought. Knights who'd been turned. Nobles who'd been compromised. He exposed them, executed them, and destroyed their networks. Each victory brought him closer to the mastermind behind it all—the shadow leader who had ordered his mother's death.

But the leader always slipped away. Always one step ahead. Always watching from the shadows.

Aldric grew obsessed. The hunt consumed him, ate away at his soul until there was nothing left but cold purpose. He stopped laughing. Stopped feeling. Stopped letting himself care about anyone or anything.

His father retreated further into his grief, leaving the kingdom's affairs to advisors who were either incompetent or corrupt. His sister grew distant, resentful of the brother who had become a stranger. Aldric was alone. Utterly, completely, devastatingly alone.

But he didn't care. He had his mission. He had his vengeance. And that was enough.

Then came the night of the heist.