Chapter 14 · Even Killers Hesitate

The kill order came in three words. Veran read it twice. Both targets. Immediate.

He folded the parchment and tucked it inside his coat. His hand didn't shake. Fifteen years as an executor and his hand never shook. That was the job. You got the order. You carried it out. You went home and you didn't dream about it.

Except this time the order named a temple apprentice.

Veran stood in the narrow alley behind the granary, watching the back entrance to the old archives. Mark and the girl had gone in an hour ago. No one else had followed. The street was empty except for a drunk sleeping it off against a cart.

Veran checked his blade. The edge was clean. The weight was familiar. He'd killed eleven people with this sword. Traitors, mostly. Two heretics. One spy who wouldn't stop talking even after Veran told him it was over.

None of them had been kids.

Ella Faran was nineteen. Veran knew because he'd read her file. Apprentice priestess. Mother executed for treason six years ago. Father unknown. No living relatives.