Ewan nodded understandably in response to the request of his secret lover. Clearly she perceived the young man to be a liability – and that was enough for Ewan to decide to take the appropriate action. He smiled as said his good-byes to her.<br/><br/>“Thank you most kindly for such wonderful hospitality as I have never enjoyed prior to this evening. Blessings on your entire, and most wonderful family,” he added for good measure, nodding politely in Victoria’s direction.” With that he stepped away with a pleasant and confident expression on his face, his servants in tow.<br/><br/>A moment later he sent one of those men away on a dark errand. Very shortly the squire would deliver the details necessary for the assassin to locate Simon. It was only a matter of time now before the young man ceased to draw breath, Ewan figured. This dark reality, and the fact that Ewan was the one to personally bring it about, did nothing to dampen the prince’s mood.<br/><br/>Whistling in near jubilant expectation of what was to come later that evening, Ewan happened to pass by the minstrel stand. By that time the group was playing a slow, gentle instrumental ballad to wind down the evening.<br/><br/>“Come now, my friends,” he said to them after getting their attention with a few claps of his hand. “Let us end on a joyful note, shall we not! Do you not know<a class="postlink" href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4EmIPY8yqY"><span style="font-style: italic">Come Again</span></a>?’ he asked the band leader, who in turn nodded ‘yes’ respectfully. As he replied Ewan withdrew a handful of silver coins from his inside pocket.<br/><br/>“Aye, m’lord, and thank you very kindly!” the lute-player said with sudden renewed energy as Ewan laid the coins on the small table set up before them.<br/><br/>Instantly their music shifted to a gleeful, upbeat song about love and longing, told in the flowery language of a poet desperate to be with his secret lover. It was a song that perfectly described emotions driven by unspoken, often unfulfilled desires at court. The masterful lyrics contained a host of thinly veiled references to lovemaking – all without straying from the bounds of decency. It was a brilliant piece that sang out loud what the guests in the room could not speak of openly, but many felt nonetheless for their unrequited loves. The song always made Ewan think of Victoria, and he hoped that she might hear the lyrics in that moment and perhaps think of him as well.<br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">Come again! sweet love doth now invite</span></div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Thy graces that refrain</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">To do me due delight,</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">To see, to hear, to touch, to kiss, to die…</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">With thee again in sweetest sympathy</div><br/><br/><br/>Ewan sang the words out loud in his deep baritone as he departed the chamber, disappearing up the tower stair into the darkness above. The faint echo of his voice followed Thomas as the young man exited the castle to await his master’s henchman.  Despite himself, Thomas couldn’t help but continue to hum the song right up until the assassin approached later that evening.<br/><br/>The powerfully-built murderer-for-hire, course and unshaven, was no stranger to music of the day. He, too, began to hum the catchy tune as he read Ewan’s note. After burning the scrap of paper in a nearby brazier, the man casually walked away into the night. Once out of sight he retrieved a small lead weight from one pocket and placed it inside a pouch. After tightening the straps the man swung the sap around expertly in fingers. As he searched for his prey the sweet lyrics from the song continued to play in his mind.<br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">Come again! that I may cease to mourn</span></div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Through thy unkind disdain;</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">For now left and forlorn…</div><br/><br/><br/>Simon, by that time, was in his shed gathering his things. He sighed to himself and took one last look around at the inside of the hut that had been his home for a decade. A soft, feminine knock at the door snapped him out of his trance and his heart nearly leapt with joy. Assuming it was Katherine, the young man flung the door open with the widest of smiles. Before the smile could fade, however, the assassin’s sap had struck the back of his head with incredible force. Simon collapsed wordlessly into the man’s arms, completely helpless and unconscious.<br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die…</span></div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">In deadly pain and endless misery…</div><br/><br/><br/>Within minutes Simon’s motionless body had been silently deposited at the bottom of the small pond nearby, drowned without being able to offer even the slightest amount resistance. The assassin was careful to slip away silently even as bubbles were still rising to the surface.<br/><br/>An hour later the murder found himself celebrating in the pub with not one but two women on his lap, each with a tankard in hand. By then the man was quite drunk and insisted on singing the song to them in bawdy fashion.<br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">All the day the sun that lends me shine</span></div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">By frowns doth cause me pine</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">And feeds me with delay;</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Her smiles, my springs that makes my joy to grow,</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">Her frowns the winter of my woe…</div><br/><br/><br/>By late evening Ewan found himself resting in his bed with the song, too, still on his mind. Eventually, as expected, the door opened and his secret lover let herself in. Once the door was closed and bolted Ewan placed both hands behind his head and began to sing it’s final refrain, smiling from ear to ear.<br/><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;"><span style="font-style: italic">All the night…</span></div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">my sleeps are full of dreams,</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">My eyes are full of streams.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">My heart takes no delight.</div><br/><br/><br/>“It is done, my darling,” he whispered as she approached. It appeared that Ewan was not wearing any bedclothes under the blanket. “Perhaps we should celebrate?”