The Assassin: (Mortal Beloved Time Travel Romance, #2) by Pamela DuMond Page B

this for me?’” I jammed my hands onto my hips and glared at him as he paced in front of me.
    He stopped and eyed me. “Gypsy help and messages do not come freely. There is always a price. What is your price, Nadja? How many coins do you need to make you feel whole?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I don’t have a price. A dying man instructed me to deliver a message to Inêz that might save her life. You helped me, but we were too late. I’m devastated that we didn’t reach her in time.”
    “So devastated that you took her children to a different room and cared for them while she suffered a brutal death. You did not see Inêz’s body, Nadja, but I did. Her spirit had already left her body that was not a pretty sight: her throat was sliced all the way to the bony bits of the vertebra in her neck, and her head almost severed from her body. I saw the bloody defensive wounds on her hands and arms.”
    “Oh my God.” My eyes welled with tears. “I didn’t realize—I didn’t know that you—”
    “I know,” he said. “Because you were busy protecting the children. Perhaps an advisor to the King Afonso paid you to do that?” Samuel asked. “Or do you work directly for one of the assassins?”
    “You do not—how dare you!” I reached to slap him but he caught my wrist in his hand, and I struggled against him. “I lost my mama when I was young and I know first-hand how Inez’s children will suffer, you arrogant jerk. No one paid me to take care of her kids. Let me go!”
    He did.
    I shook out my hand. “We might have arrived too late to save Inêz, but at least we managed to give two of her children shelter. John will never get over what he saw. I cannot even image what Prince Pedro will feel once he finds out. But I need to know what happens when we get back there.” I jabbed my finger in the direction of Coimbra.
    “Why?” he asked.
    My face flushed. “I fear King Afonso’s advisors will try and kill me. But if I am with you—if I am your… servant girl ? Perhaps they’ll have second thoughts before they try and hurt me. Maybe you can help keep me alive until—”
    “No.” He pushed me away, paced, and frowned so hard the muscles in his jaw twitched. “No. I cannot.”  
    I shoved my fists on either side of my waist. “What do you mean, ‘No’?”
    “If I am seen at King Afonso’s castle with you ? One of the King’s advisors will eventually remember that we were both at Prince Pedro’s villa the night Inêz was killed. And then they will confer, make conclusions, and panic that there was a greater reason we were together, other than chance, and hire an assassin to kill the both of us.”  
    “But you will tell them they are wrong,” I said. “Because you are a lord and they will believe you.”
    “The King’s advisors are much older than I, Nadja. They are more respected. One or the both of us will end up with our pretty young necks slit and our blood staining the stones on which our dead bodies lie.” Samuel climbed back up on Bag-of-Bones. “The only way we can survive this political and personal monstrosity is if we stay apart. Have no contact.”
    “Fine. I’ll pretend I don’t know you when we get back to Coimbra.” I glared at him and held out my hand. “Come on. Help me up.”
    He shook his head.  
    My heart sunk. “You’re not going to take me to Coimbra? You’re abandoning me in the middle of frigging nowhere?” I looked around. No people. No road in sight. Just rolling hills. “After all we’ve been through—I can’t believe it!”
    “Nadja.” Samuel nudged his heels onto the horse’s flanks. “It is for the best for the both of us. I would rather gaze at you from across a palace room, than watch the King’s servants toss your body onto the rotting pile of corpses in a shallow gypsy grave.”
    “But! But!” I said.  
    “Someday you will thank me. This is for our safety.” He threw me a kiss and rode off.
    “But,