I knew the Queen was sending someone for me the next day.  I closed my eyes.  It had to be that night.  I slid the knife into its sheath, and attached it to the leather strap inside my sleeve.

     I slipped off my shoes, and crept silently through the house.  By the time I reached the door of Grollo’s bedroom, my heart was thundering.  I realized this would be far harder than poisoning.  I stepped through the door, and slowly walked up to Grollo’s bed.  There were no sounds but for his steady breathing.  Soon, I thought, even that would cease.

     I stared at his shadowy form.  Even though he was a nasty man, and I still had the bruises to prove it, I had to close my eyes and remember my duty.  I slid the blade from its sheath; my hand trembled as I got ready to cut Grollo’s throat.

     I could not do it.  I could not kill a man.  I put the knife away and fled the room.

     When one of the Queen’s men came for me early in the morning, I mounted the horse he had brought for me.  She was a flashy, high-stepping chestnut I knew to be named Clink.  When we’d gotten about a half-mile away from Grollo’s property, I let Clink have her head, and we galloped away across the fields.  The Queen’s man could barely keep up.

     I never slowed our wild flight until Clink was too tired to do anything but walk.  By the end of the day, we were within a mile of the Queen’s castle.  Clink wanted to run again, and kept trying to grab the bit with her teeth.  I was in no hurry to report to the Queen however, and kept her at a walk.

     When we reached the castle, I did everything I could to avoid entering the castle.  I groomed Clink, fed her, cleaned her tack, washed the travel dust from my body, and changed to my traditional outfit.  I couldn’t put it off any longer.

     The Queen called me to her chamber, where I found her writing at her desk.  She motioned for me to sit down, and waited for my report.  When I said nothing, she looked up.  “Nikita?” she raised an eyebrow.

     Shamefaced, I stared at my feet.  I couldn’t look her in the eye.  After a moment, I felt the Queen’s fingers on my chin as she lifted my face.  “Tell me Kita.  Tell me everything.”  I did so, my heart aching at the knowledge that I had failed her.

     When I finished, I dared to look up.  “Maybe I was wrong,” the Queen murmured.  “I’m sorry Nikita.  I never should have put this burden on a young girl.”

     That really hurt me.  At that moment, a man I knew to be one of the Queen’s spies entered the room.

     “My lady,” he bowed.  “I have an urgent matter to discuss.”  When the Queen inclined her head, he began.  “Lord Grollo has gone through with his plan.”

     The Queen's eyes were filled with a horrible sadness and fear.  "Tell me," she said, in a voice that told me she did not want to know.

      "He attacked two of the villages we were informed of by our spies.  He also took five others on the Eastern Border.  He burned them to the ground.  Those who were not killed by the soldiers or inferno, were taken as slaves.  Our men are attempting to find them, but we suspect they have already been sold somewhere in the Northern Isles."

    The Queen did not speak for a long time.  The man left, but I stayed; my heart felt as if it had been stabbed with the knife I should have used to destroy Grollo.

    "Nikita," the Queen said, in the saddest voice I have ever heard, "Hundreds of lives were lost, because you could not take one.  But I do not blame you.  You are young.  If you still wish to serve me, I will give you another chance."

    I have never once failed my Queen again.