Free The Assassin: (Mortal Beloved Time Travel Romance, #2) by Pamela DuMond Page A

me that it is simply too late.”
    “It is too late,” Flaín said. “King Afonso needs to give our Castilian friends a definitive sign we are united in solidarity with them.”
    “Your brothers’ politics have no place here,” King Afonso said, “and yet, they are embedded like worms in the future corpses of the Portuguese people they conspire to rule. I will not tolerate this treachery one day longer!”
    His guards and advisors pulled swords and daggers from sheaths attached to their belts.  
    Inêz’s children screamed and clung to her like human shields. “Mama, no!” a girl said. “Grandpapa, no!” Denis cried.
    “I know you are a God-fearing man, King Afonso.” She gazed up at him, now with fight shining through the tears in her eyes. “A God-fearing man will take my children from this room before we continue our discussion, yes?”  
    I’d witnessed that look on several occasions in the eyes of someone who knew that they would soon be dying.  
    I made it here intact, but I was too late. Even though I did not know Inêz de Castro personally—and had never in fact heard of her before tonight—she was still a mother with young children.  
    King Afonso and his counselors eyed each other.
    “Your Highness,” a rat-faced man holding a dagger said. “Do not rethink this. Be done with it.”
    I flashed to the memories of my mama and the car accident. When Malachi the Hunter had rammed our car off the edge of a tall car park in Chicago, Mama had to make a decision—stay and watch me die, or time travel and let me live. She knew she would never be able to return to present day Chicago.  
    Now Inêz faced making a similar, if not worse, decision.   She would protect her children, but these memories would haunt them for the rest of their lives.
      “Perhaps you should leave, your Highness. After all, this is why you employed us,” another advisor said, his voice silky smooth. He was probably in his forties, handsome, and even though he hadn’t yet drawn a sword or a weapon, his words sliced the air in the room like a razor through soft skin.
    “I will leave when I am ready, Diogo,” King Afonso said.
    Inêz reached up, clutched the King’s arm and whispered, “If you subject my children to harm—if you inflict one small scratch, one tiny hurt—as God is my witness, even from beyond the grave, I will seek revenge on you and your… advisors . It will be in tears, it will be in blood, and unlike you standing before me right now in my home with Pedro—it will not be a secret. Because I swear I will find a way to make sure everyone knows about it.”
    King Afonso blinked.
    “But if you are decent to your grandchildren? If you promise me that no harm will come to them and you take them away from here now,” Inêz said as her hands shook, “I will suffer whatever unjust and unholy punishment you mete upon me.”
    I closed my eyes and remembered what my mama had told me so many years ago. She said I could be strong, challenge my fears, and choose actions in spite of them. Or I could be weak and live a small life filled with regrets.  
    Right now I chose to be strong.  
    I took a deep breath, gathered my courage and strode into the living room like I was meant to be there, and curtsied. “Lady Inêz de Castro. My most sincere apologies that I am so late.”  
    She cocked her head and peered at me—completely confused.
    “It is far past time for me to help with the children,” I said. “King Afonso, what an honor it is for me to be in your presence.” I curtsied again. “I had no idea you were visiting tonight.”
    “Do not speak to the King, girl,” the rat-faced man said.
    “I apologize,” I said.
    “There you go again speaking to the King.” Rat-face glared and brandished his dagger inches in front of my face.
    I flinched and back-stepped.
    “I could cut those words from your pretty mouth and teach you some manners.”
    “Leave the girl alone, Alvaro,” the King said. “I