Prince and Assassin (Perilous Courts, #1)

by Tavia Lark

Whisper doesn’t linger on his kills, and he doesn’t use poison. He’s best with a knife or pillow, and he’s in and out within the hour, without a trace.

“They’re such sweet kitties. I’ve only seen them from a distance, mind you. But they’re very sweet. From a distance.”

Because Julien can’t be here now. Julien is back in the castle, where he’s safe. He’s not here putting himself in danger for something as stupid as rescuing Whisper. People don’t rescue Whisper.

Whisper lacks a scale to measure betrayal. He can’t weigh whether he’s been crueler to Julien than he was to Aneko, or anyone else he’s killed. All he knows is that he’ll have far less of himself when he’s done with this job.

“Are you sure? I can give you this rag, so you can bind off your grievous wound yourself. Or a bottle of whiskey to grimace over as you stitch your own severed arm back onto your shoulder.”