“Perhaps,” Verity said quietly. I sensed he did not agree, “But now all shall know, most vividly, of the Forged ones who are gathering about Buckkeep.”
“They shall know, too, that a determined person can defend herself from them. And from the talk of your guard as we came back, I think there shall be far fewer Forged ones a week hence.”
“I know that. Some will be slaying their own kin. Forged or not, it is Six Duchies blood we are shedding. I had sought to avoid having my guard kill my own people.”
A small silence fell between us as we both reflected he had not scrupled to set me to that same task. Assassin. That was the word for what I was. I had no honor to preserve, I realized.
“Not true, Fitz.” He answered my thought. “You preserve my honor. And I honor you for that, for doing what must be done. The ugly work, the hidden work. Do not be shamed that you work to preserve the Six Duchies. Do not think I do not appreciate such work simply because it must remain secret. Tonight, you saved my queen. I do not forget that either.”
“She needed little saving, sir. I believe that even alone, she would have survived.”
“Well. We won’t wonder about that.” He paused, then said awkwardly, “I must reward you, you know.”
When I opened my mouth to protest, he held up a forbidding hand. “I know you require nothing. I know, too, that there is already so much between us that nothing I could give you would be sufficient for my gratitude. But most folk know nothing of that. Will you have it said in Buckkeep Town that you saved the Queen’s life, and the King-in-Waiting acknowledged you not at all? But I am at a loss to know what to gift you with … it should be something visible, and you must carry it about with you for a while. That much I know of statecraft, at least. A sword? Something better than that piece of iron you were carrying tonight?”