The Queen's Blade by T. Southwell

For a moment he had doubted his reasoning, and was glad that he had been right. Reassured of his safety, he tried again.
    "So did the Queen do it herself?"
    The assassin whipped around and hit Kerrion hard enough to make his eyes water. The salty tang of blood invaded his mouth.
    "You do not learn, do you?" Blade snarled.
    Kerrion blinked, shocked by the suddenness of the attack and its violence. Until now, Blade had seemed too well controlled to resort to brutality, but apparently he had found the one subject able to enrage the assassin beyond the point where he could control his temper. He longed to strike back, but the chains made him helpless, and he glared up at the assassin. Even Blade's mocking smile, ever on hand to rile his opponent, had deserted him in this instance.
    Kerrion spat blood. "So you do care about something."
    "I dislike nosey Cotti bastards who pry into another man's business like a fishwife into her neighbour's household."
    "So why did she do it? To punish you for some indiscretion? Did you forget to grovel properly?"
    Blade's eyes glinted, and he grabbed a cloth from one of the packs and stuffed it into the Prince's mouth. "If you will not be quiet, I shall make you."
    While the assassin hunted for a cord to bind the gag in place, Kerrion pulled it out. "How does it feel to be a half man? Do you hate her now? Why do you still serve her?"
    Blade rammed the gag back in with such force that the Prince almost choked on it, then wound a strip of cloth around his head, holding it in place. He tied it tightly and shoved Kerrion aside before he reclaimed his seat on the far side of the fire. There he sipped his tea and regarded at his captive, who could only glare back at him. The assassin sat for a long time, measuring the Prince with his eyes. Finally he spoke into the silence.
    "You are going to goad me with that whenever you can, are you not? You seem to enjoy making me angry. I see that now. It is a kind of revenge, the only one of which you are capable. You seem to think that this is something I am ashamed of, and thence stems my anger. But you are wrong. I will tell you what you want to know. It seems I have told you too much already, but hopefully you will die soon. Perhaps, being a Cotti, you have a right to know."
    Kerrion frowned in confusion, and Blade went on, "All the Jashimari boys were... gelded in your camps. I suppose they thought we would live to be adults, and by gelding us they would make us easier to handle. Jashimari are strong-willed and stubborn, unlike Cotti, who spend all their energy talking, and are easily persuaded to do as they are told, even offering to be willing captives." Blade cast a scornful eye over the Prince.
    "I never stopped trying to escape, and several times they beat me almost to death. What they did to me only made me hate them more, and I became more determined to escape them, no matter how they punished me. Do not insult me with your pity, either, for I have found my... difference to be a great asset at times, ensuring that I never find myself at the mercy of some scheming woman. And it has enabled me to be a good assassin, providing, as it does, a fool-proof disguise.
    "Your father fell for it, as many have done before him, and paid the price. You could say that what your soldiers did led to his death, for any normal man would not be able to pass himself off as a woman, for obvious reasons."
    Blade's gaze rested on Kerrion's chin, from which a three-tenday-old beard sprouted. He raised a hand to rub his smooth cheek, a slight smile curling his lips again.
    "So, now you know, and I do not really care who you tell. I do not like to talk about it, but it has never been a secret. Most people know what I am when they see me, and how I became what I am is irrelevant. You may take some pride in what your soldiers did to me, but it has not done you, or them any good, has it? Perhaps I will suggest to the Queen that she return the favour with you, and send back to the