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Before I start, I just wanted to say thank you for reading my book. Every little notification I get about this book makes me cry in happiness. Thank you for supporting my dream. I appreciate you so so much.

Anyways, let's get on with the reason you're here.


 Clara was walking back to Victor's chambers with a basket full of his newly washed and dried clothes when she spotted a familiar face far from her. 

The same man who had been trying to get to the prince of Avelyn.

"Excuse me." Clara called out, quickly walking over to him, her heart beating faster with anticipation. "You seem lost, need any help?"

"It's you..." he muttered under his breath, followed by a curse. "I'm not lost, thank you."

"May I ask where you're going?"

"You may not." he shot her a glare. This was the second time she interrupted him, and he was losing patience, his mission had taken far too long. 

"I insist." Clara matched his tone as she blocked his way. "Why so tense? You don't have anything to hide, do you?"

 The man saw red, and he pulled out a dagger, not even bothering to look around for any prying eyes. He pointed it at Clara's neck, getting closer and closer, but she stood her ground, her eyes so fiery that you wouldn't see the fear behind them.

"Listen to me, girl." he sneered. "You're going to shut up and let me be on my way."

"I don't think so." she said and dropped the heavy basket right on his foot, making him scramble back, and Clara narrowly dodged the blade, preventing it from cutting her chin.

"You bitch!"

"That's no way to talk to a woman!" she gasped in mock offense.

 The man's face turned red and he approached her once more, taking out another dagger, holding it in reverse as opposed to his first blade. He slashed his hands violently, but Clara was quicker, and smaller, so she was able to dodge them all quite easily.

 Growing frustrated, he ran and slammed into her, dropping her to the ground, knocking the air out of her lungs as he hovered over her, knife in hand. The second blade fell out of his hand when Clara tried to steady herself, and it laid not too far from them. He tightened his grip on his knife, bringing it down to her heart with speed. Clara caught his hand just in time, inches away from her heart. She clenched her jaw, focusing on putting all her strength in her arms to fight him off. She noticed that he was straddling her just above her knees, so she brought her knee up harshly, making him yell out in pain and lost his grip, giving her time to catch the dagger and flip them over, so now she was over him. Still caught off guard, she punched his nose, hearing a bones crack and blood splattering all over the floor and her. 

 The man growled and brought his large head up, hitting Clara, sending her back. She held her head in pain, feeling slightly dizzy, giving the assassin enough time to grab the other dagger that was neglected on the floor. He stumbled to his feet and ran towards the girl, slashing his knife with her blocking them skillfully. Clara, now back to her senses, crawled under his legs and quickly stood up behind him, slashing the back of his knees and kicking him to the ground. 

 He turned with an angry yell, thrusting his blade forward to stab her, missing her by merely an inch. He used his foot to knock her down and he crawled over to her, slashing violently, managing a slightly deep but short cut on her left arm. Blood seeped through her now torn dress and she let out a small hiss at the burning sensation. Just as he was going to stab her, she knocked away his hand and thrust her own dagger right into his heart.

The Warrior of AvelynWhere stories live. Discover now