Sugar Spun Over Blood

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Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

“Ooh, a rowboat!” She trills. You’d have to know her very well to detect the fury hidden behind her air-headed smile. “How romantic!”
“But of course, my dear!” I take her hand and we simper at one another.
Hopefully those passerbys I see whispering to each other are doing so because they’ve fallen for our front. Just in case, I tone the sweetheart routine down a little as I help her into the boat.
We witter about the weather, and whether there are baby ducks, until we grow distant enough from the crowds that nobody should be able to overhear us.
Only then, while fluttering her eyes at me, does she murmur “So, have you made any progress?”
“I would say the empress is thoroughly ensnared. I intend to ‘hold out’ a little longer, until she makes a particularly bold move, then allow that gesture to ‘tempt’ me.”
Her lips tighten in annoyance, which she hides behind a sweet pout. “Are you dragging this out to deliberately torment me?”
“I promise that is only a side benefit.”
She forces a merry giggle. The flush high on her cheeks could easily be mistaken for something other than rage.
I join in on the laugh, rather more heartily, then mutter “She has a reputation for dropping men as quickly as she picks them up. For me to truly get close to her, close enough to do the job, I need to drive her to obsession first. Such that when she finally ‘wins’ me away from ‘my love’, she wishes to flaunt it before everyone.”
Though she curses under her breath, I know she knows the truth of my words. Proven by how she’s now all business. “Have you learned anything new about her?”
“Nothing of note. She’s… actually quite a boring person.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. I thought she would revel in her advantages. Embrace sophistication. Strive to prove superiority over the rest of us. Be active in her monstrous conquests. Not be a shallow, disinterested brat with nary a thought in her head except lounging on riches forged in blood.”
“Well, you must remember that she was born to evil. It’s nothing special, for her and her ilk. She’s no more likely to crave evil than, oh, someone born to a shepherd being prone to obsessing about sheep. It’s simply the lot fate has dealt you.”
“I suppose. Putting it like that, I somewhat feel sorry for her.”
Her eyes narrow, though her smile remains fixed. “Don’t start-”
“Oh, don’t worry - I mean the kind of pity which drives you to put a mewling injured animal out of its misery.”
She relaxes. “Well, I’ve learned a few titbits - gleaned from gossip, so of course take them with a pinch of salt. Firstly…”
I keep my gaze on the crowds and my ears tuned to her words. We mustn’t get sloppy and ruin the job now.
This sugar-spun palace will be razed down to its blood-soaked bedrock.

Prompt was “Write a scene where a romantic boat ride is used as cover for a conversation”.