It was one of the few mannors who didn’t hire guard patrols, Kate’s father was too dangerous a man to risk robbing, his reputation as an world class assassin was well known. It was strange how the Darksmith family, whose very name personified their trade where respected and prosperous. Some time ago when Katherine’s dad had been training under his father, the family where royal assassins. It paid well and granted them power and land beyond many of the lower nobles. Richard her father, was semi-retired, the property and businesses he had acquired kept most of his time as well had raising his three daughters. Before she left, Kate’s life had been fancy dresses, royal balls and noble rivalry. It had been a long time since then everything seemed trivial and joyous looking back at simpler times.
Katherine stared at the large wooden door in front of her. She bit her lip nervously, it would have been too easy to run away, she raised her hand to knock and paused. She took a deep breath steadying her resolved and knocked. Oh how she longed to disappear into the darkness it wouldn’t be hard, the seconds seemed like hours waiting for the answer. Finally the door opened, a short old man stood staring at her, his squint betrayed his failing eye sight. He didn’t look pleased, speaking harshly.
“This is the guest entrance, the trade door is around the back, if you bring message or are looking for work”
Kate laughed, a smile beaming her face. “Oh it is good to see you too Winston” she stepped forward quickly embracing the butler in a warm hug. He was first shocked, then even more shocked has he realised who she was and how he had spoken.
“Lady Katherine, I beg your pardon I…”
“No need, I look like a mess and haven’t been home in nearly 4 years”
He stared at her speechless for a few moments, he manged to collar a passing serving girl telling her to inform the master and prepare a bath and appropriate clothes for the lady of the house. Kate tried to protest but he girl was gone before words formed on her lips.
She closed the large oak doors behind her feeling like a visitor in her own home waiting in the hallway.
It was her Sister who first appeared. She walked from the sitting room, almost failing to see Kate as she made her way to another room. She had to stare for a few seconds before finally speaking.
“So you’ve come back to us, you disgrace the family with both your actions and return looking like a tramp” her accent was highly snobbish with overemphasised nobility. Kate stood stunned for a second, her little sister when she had last seen her was little past her 13th birthday still a child now she was a young woman full of class and self-importance.
Amelia, walked over to her sister. She was of a similar height to Kate only a little shorter but her heels made up the couple of inches against Kate’s practical flats. Her hair was blond obviously dyed and painstakingly made up. her face and eyes could have mirrored Kate but for the lack of make up or tiny scar on the assassins left cheek.
“Look at you! Your hairs a mess, your clothes look like they belong to a stable boy. The only jewellery and slightly feminine thing is that thing on your arm and I don’t even know what that is or where in hell it would be fashionable”
Kate looked back at her sister with a cold indifference. She had not expected this and had little come back at the moment.
“And that! You carry a sword like merchants guard? Why would you need a sword?”
She reached out to touch it and emphasis her point.
“Don’t”
Amelia stopped dead and the sharpness of the tones, she looked back at Kate who returned her icy blue eyes in a cold frown.
“Don’t touch my sword”
Kate’s mouth tightened into a small smile, it was not overly friendly but hinted at a possibility of a truce before the war massacred millions.
“It’s good to see you sister, you’ve certainly grown into a young woman haven’t you”
“And you Katherine have grown into common thug”
“maybe I was wrong, you still seem like a shallow self-obsessed child right now”
Amelia’s eyes went wide with anger, she opened her mouth but was interrupted before the shouting match could really start.
“Enough!”
Their father Richard Darksmith stood atop of the steps, his eyes wandered between them stern as if telling off two naughty children not a young women of 16 and 19. Once happy that he had their attention and had stopped the fight his smile broadened like she had never seen on his face before. “Finally all my children are home and safe!”
_________________ AKA - Boy Killa
Katherine Darksmith
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