"Hey, are you not going to bed?" a voice asked.
I looked up from the glowing embers and saw the leader of this expedition, Max Grey, and shrugged. He sighed, sitting next to me.
"You know, we are not that bad."
I shrugged again. I did not want to talk to him. He wished to kill Apple. He has no reason to do such a thing. Anyone a threat to Apple was no friend of mine and I was sure to let him know that. He sighed again.
"Listen, none of this is what you think."
"Really? I have no idea why you would want to kill Apple. She has done nothing to you personally. The only thing you have against her is the fact she is the rightful leader of ACCA and is the best assassin there is."
"Maybe so, but if you think about it, her family is the one who brought those brought into the life of assassins. She is related to the reason some of us are here. Yes, Mister Ambrose does that too, but the older assassins hold grudges more than the younger ones."
"Maybe so, but do not take it out on her."
"Get some sleep. It is a long journey back to ACCA, another three days."
I shrugged, "Not much longer than it took to find your group, Grey."
It was his turn to shrug, "You are still young, Amiot. Remember that. You accept Apple as an assassin, do you not?"
"Of course I do."
"If you still wish to court her, you realise you must become like us."
I shrugged, "Like my family would miss me."
"I am sure they would, Amiot. You are part of a wealthy family, am I correct?"
"Yes."
"And you are the only heir?"
"Your point being?"
"The business will die out without you to take over."
"The business means nothing without Apple."
He nodded, "I am sure that she can train you along with Mister Calnan."
"Great," I muttered, "Spending time with another man in love with her."
"Go get some sleep, Amiot. It will do you good. Maybe then you will begin thinking clearly."
I sighed and stood up. Taking one last look at Grey, I ambled to our tree, laying in my spot next to Apple. I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer to me and falling into a deep sleep.
"Sébastien, come down here please. Your father wishes you to meet someone," my mother called up to me.
I set down my schoolwork and stood up. I would much prefer finishing my schoolwork than meeting another client of my father's that I would one day be working with.
My father owned a large retail shop. He would sell toys for children, candy, and clothes. He had multiple stores in multiple nations. He was a very successful man, making us one of the wealthiest in Paris.
We had a wonderful estate. It was four stories tall and painted white. There were beautiful gardens on the sides of the estate. The backyard had a small coy pond in the centre surrounded by yard furniture.
I walked down the stairs and into the sitting room where my parents and a man with auburn hair and brown eyes were seated. My father stood, motioning me to come over.
"Sébastien, this is Victor Caplan. He works our England store. Victor, this is my son, Sébastien."
"Pleasure to meet you, Sébastien," Victor said, holding out his hand.
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Amnesia
FantasyAmnesia can be a pain. Even more so when your amnesia can be the cause of your demise. In nineteenth century France and England, a teenage girl struggles with having amnesia while away from her home. She must venture on horseback with a French boy a...