The world I grew up in was not for the faint of heart. As much as I'd like to say it was hard work and determination that got me through it all, in hindsight I believe only the luckiest survive the kind of crap I've been through. All that I have endured has forged my body and trained me to fight and never give up. My reward for all those efforts was getting myself a position in the Mercenary guild. I'm not saying everyone in there are all lions with hearts of gold, but they're not a bad group of people; I could've fallen into a worse crowd by far.
My early life has certainly been a rocky road, but it was one still worth living once I got into a good groove--a real treat after the hardcore crap I had to go through to get to that point. But as fate would have it, my hard-earned world and lifestyle came to a crashing halt in a blaze of politics, fine silks, a handsome face, and lots and lots of Fae.
When I got the posting from the Master, a very high-paying noble job, I didn't ask questions for many reasons. Do the research, survey every angle, plot the approach, and execute the plan. It had been a mantra of mine for four years of working for him and it worked.
I should've asked questions.
So I researched the Duke of Eddington, the youngest Prince to the Imperial King. I studied his habits, his hobbies, his interests, and his political maneuvers. Surveilled his movements, watched him make his plans for his Duketon, his private moments of weakness, his social coalition even. I knew it all. Hell, I even knew what foods he didn't like and why.
Yet when I had finally set the plan into motion, everything went completely awry. I should've known it was a ploy from the start. And now, I'm running for my life from Nobles and Fae, dragging a Duke with me and trying to figure out who set me up.