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(no tears left to shed ) —AN ODE TO MOURN/ ❛ but enough blood to bleed ❜
SHE GAZED AT THE GOLD COINS FELL LIKE DROPS OF RAIN— as Sturmhond dropped a large purse that held Cassian's freedom in front of Per Haskell. Her rigid posture made up for the shock that should have been etched on her face, had it not been for the stone-cold expression that implied otherwise. What was she thinking, what was she thinking?
Cassian just couldn't say yes fast enough.
Two signatures are signed from the same quill, one contract stamped and a firm handshake to end the deal. She should have walked out of Per Haskell's office feeling a burden being lifted off of her shoulders; instead, Sturmhond's presence was but a reminder of her price for freedom. A price that required Cassian Tamura to look at the man she considered the devil himself.
One thing was for certain, she was no longer a part of the Dregs; that truth was set in stone. Cassian could only assume that the meticulous Kaz Brekker would have run through the possibilities, the numbers, the chances. He would have known the outcome of this bargain before the agreement was formed. If so, that meant that they both knew that someone was short a Grisha. And a post was in need to be filled.
Not like the Inferni did much but sulk, drink and gamble her woes away. The Dragon of the West was a myth, a legend. But Sturmhond wanted her to be reincarnated once more. To be reborn from the ashes. Such a shame, what a shame.
Her footsteps echoed uncertainty as she walked beside the man who freed her. Was she a fraud? Sturmhond freed her for the promise was believing in a legend that even Kaz Brekker believed in. Perhaps there was a moment when Cassian Tamura believed that she was the Dragon of the West, but even the legend had let go of the flame that had made her name burn for so long.
"You're finally free," his voice was a ripple amidst the commotion of her thoughts.
She gazed up to see him staring down at her. His muddy green eyes almost bore into her own. What was she to say? Thank you? That was a lie they both knew was certain. There was nothing to thank, aside from having the opportunity to watch a certain kefta hang as a corpse burned with it, there was nothing.
Cassian only plastered a smile on her face and nodded. Nothing more, nothing less. Not while her words hung over her head like an anvil about to crush her. The weight of a promise, of an alliance formed to end an enemy. But for a promise that required risk, it tasted like nothing more than ashes to Cassian's lips.
"You don't seem exactly thrilled by the notion of your freedom," Sturmhond teased as he gently nudged her on the shoulder with his arm.
"Why? Are you afraid you made the wrong decision?" He probed as he continued to pester her with his words. If only he knew how much she wanted to say yes at that moment.
