Darkness and Beauty (The Fated Series, #1)

Chapter 15 - Fauna - This Is A Really Bad Idea

We've been at it for hours. The challenge originally was to go until we ran out of arrows, but that went by too quickly and I bet him a day of servantry I could outlast him. The Dozen are assigned to attack and shoot at us from the castle walls or weeping willow, that way we can pick up stray arrows for unlimited supply and test his sense of awareness, though mine are being tested as well since it's been a while since I've held a bow. It didn't take long for a rhythm to set into my body.
The rules are to disarm only, which was obviously Darius's idea. The only upside about this is that The Dozen are at least aiming for the spots I told them to aim for. I feel like a mother watching her child walk for the first time. My children are growing up so fast.
"It's never fun if there's no challenge," my mother used to say. I can feel myself being reeled back into a memory, but stop myself before it goes too far. Every time I think of my mother it feels as if my heart's being ripped from my chest or stabbed a thousand times. It doesn't help that the cramps from my monthly cycle literally feel like that. I've been so caught up in the assignments from my father that I forgot to keep count on when it was supposed to come up again. Now I have to suffer the lower back pain and the feeling of my innards being ripped apart by fire.
It was hell eating dinner and feeling like someone spilled a jug of water on my lap. It was even worse when I knew that I was eating with a Prince who has likely never even seen so much blood in his life. Luckily, we were eating in my room, so I simply waited for him to leave before sprinting to the bathroom. It didn't soak all the way through, which was a miracle in itself. I sent Kat out for some reinforcements and waited on the floor of the bathroom trying to keep myself from screaming. Kat told me of things that usually help her, but I was too busy trying to crawl to my bed to really hear her. The cramps are less active when I'm in motion, but every now and then they have a sudden urge to claw against my organs, making me think that one of The Dozen actually managed to land an arrow in my side.
The sound of an arrow flying by my ear snaps me back into action. I roll on instinct, narrowly dodging one of Al's arrows, then shoot back, hearing him cuss before ducking behind the wall. Coward. That should be my next lesson: Dodge but don't cower.
Gods my father's lesson names were cheesy.
As I shoot another arrow at a target on the wall, I spot a woman in a pale blue dress marching toward us with utter determination. Based on the hue of her skin, tangled hair twisted atop her head, the angle of her facial features, color of her skin, and the plain sandals underneath her feet, I'd say she's from Avyana.
Avyanians - especially Avyanian women - aren't necessarily violent people. However, the ferocity and demand in their voice combined with the flying chancla, that's something I'll never forget.
I was on an assignment in Avyana chasing an unsettling fast killer when he ran behind his mother. I was about to truck her when she threw her thick chancla and hit me square in the stomach. You'd think that since it's a Gods dammed sandal it wouldn't hurt, but the cursed thing knocked the air out of me and gave me a bruise, size five, on my chest. The memory has me backing toward Darius as I keep shooting and dodging. Since I'm his personal guard, it's only right that I stand between him and the flying chancla, though I really didn't want to.
Me continuing to dodge the arrows is because there is no way in ten hells I'm gonna serve him for a day. Nope. Never.
The lady is getting close, and I don't know whether to put her on her butt, give her a warning shot, or just watch. I know how to speak Avyanan. It's one of my easier languages I had to learn growing up. Though only a part of Vandaria speaks Avyanan, it's a common neutral ground most people can speak.
"Media hora. He estado esperando media hora para que tu triste trasero entre por las puertas de la biblioteca y juro que si me haces esperar un minuto más voy a-"
"Vas a qué?" Do what? I challenge, releasing an arrow in Ozzie's direction without taking my eyes off of her. She stops abruptly, her anger practically firing off of her like the arrows.
Her dark brown eyes narrow on me. She doesn't assess me as everyone else does when they see me. She just squints. "Things we both wish we could do without being executed the next day," she responds, still in Avyanan.
"In that case..." I step aside firing another arrow at Henry, but still staying close enough to intervene.
"Where have you been?" she yells at Darius. It's an effort not to laugh at his long sigh and slow effort to turn around. "And don't try and tell me you were out with another girl because I know that you-"
"Okay, Aracely. I'm sorry," I turn to Darius, entirely surprised at him responding in Avyanan. "Just give me a moment to beat Clarice and-"
Aracely flinches as the arrow that would've landed in her side ends up embedded in the spine of my bow instead. "You're welcome."
Turning, I load three arrows into one hand and knock them, setting them loose into the Willow where three idiots are hiding. The arrows fly one after the other, the string not even having time to stop quivering before I pull it back again. By the time the third one is released, the first hasn't even disappeared through the curtain of leaves yet. I hear curses, followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor, the second jumping to another branch to avoid the hit, and Benny sprinting from the tree and tripping on his own two feet, his quiver spilling out over the lawn.
Saints, they're all fucking useless.
Both Darius and Aracely seem to have loose jaws when I turn back. "What?"
No more arrows fly at us from either ground level or above. Apparently, they've never seen someone actually make use of a bow's capabilities. I'd say I'm surprised, but I really am not. It's like these castle guards have no imagination.
Darius shakes his head, causing his once styled hair to fall across his eyes. He doesn't move them out of the way which somehow annoys me. I don't think anyone's hair but mine has ever annoyed me.
Correction, my brother's previously horrendously dyed hair annoyed me, but I knew he'd change it back.
Like me, he likes his hair too much to allow it to look like that for longer than necessary.
He looks back to Aracely who's working her jaw to close again. "I'll meet you in the library-"
"¡No!" Her head snaps back at him so fast that I worry she broke her own neck. "He esperado dos horas y estoy cansado de masticarme las uñas y -"
She ranted like that for an entire minute before both Darius and I gave in and followed her to the library. When I whispered "she's a bitch" in Lithian to Darius, - I know he doesn't understand Lithian - she whirled. One second we were walking, the next both Darius and I were making out with one of her sandals. At least she didn't throw it as hard as that crazy mother, though I'll likely have a bruise blooming by tonight.
"I can sense bullshit when I hear it, girl." She doesn't pick up her sandals before she stomps through the rest of the garden, cussing at me in Avyanan. Darius bent down and grabbed her sandals before following, meanwhile, I'm trying to get over the shock of what in ten hells just happened, not to mention the fucking audacity and balls on that woman.
I think I'm in love.
Sitting next to the woman at a table on the second floor of the library, I can see why she was so agitated at Darius. I mean he really struggles with trying to learn languages, and I said earlier that this was one of the easier languages I've learned.
Well, not for Darius.
He's stuck with the different tenses in which Avyana has. While Vandarian has three tenses, past, present, and future, Hisperian has...several. Four different tenses for past, four tenses for present, three tenses for future, and then two additional tenses as a cherry on top. On second thought, I can see why he's struggling. I mean it did take me a while to get down the tenses, plus I do have a nerdy nag for learning them. That and books.
Gods books are addicting. When I first walked into the library, it took serious self-control to try and not stop to run my fingers down each spine of the billions of books we passed just walking to the private room. I was grappling with my hunger to snatch as many books as possible and run when we reached the center of the library. I mean it's a giant...hole. Literally. I looked over the railing - the only thing keeping me from tumbling to my death - and saw aisles upon aisles of books on each floor that just seemed to keep descending deep into the earth below the castle itself. The only reason I knew there was a bottom was because of the lights that lit up on the last floor like a compass, and even that was at least ten levels down. Rumor has it the more precious and oldest books sit beneath the bottom level, going on for an eternity.
Looking up was even more thrilling. More flights of books loomed above me, coming to a stop when a glass roof meets at the tower's peak. From outside the roof looks like stone, but I guess it's glass. Me and Darius or a cranky librarian are going to have a long talk later.
We walked through the long aisles - which made me even more excited to sneak back here later - and into a private room with a table stacked with paper and, get this...more books. Though I've read all of them, I still got hyper when I spotted them. Normally, book people get excited when they see a fantasy or romance novel, but me, I get excited seeing any book.
Darius, however, looked like he wanted to take the sword hanging over the fireplace mantel, and put it through his fourth and fifth rib. Pobre Principe.
The minutes went by, quicker when I read the title of every book framing the walls of the small room. The only reason I stopped looking was because they were all fantasy and romances. I mean I get it, who doesn't love a muscular, mysterious, and winged fairy man who's got legs for days, but seriously, you'd think there'd be cupids flying above our heads and people kissing and touching each other on the couches. It makes me uncomfortable just thinking about it. Plus, I'd rather not be judged for the amount of drool spilling out of my mouth when I go to read the small descriptions.
I'll be back, I promised no one but the bound pieces of paper.
After drooling over some of the covers and small parts of the books that I read, I sat next to the hag and started listening to Darius's lesson. Then I began chiming in on his lessons which drew the hag to nearly smacking me across the head with a thick book because I kept giving him the answers. I wanted to bang my head on a wall and grab the book from her hands to read at the same time. It's torture.
I will not be admitting to anyone that I said that, cause then I will have a weakness and my father will kill me for having such a weird and stupid one. I don't even keep books in my room at the assassins keep in case he decides to inspect my room while I'm gone. Educational books he's okay with, but anything else and he's flipping a table.
We've all got anger issues. Kind of runs in the family if I'm being honest.
About ten minutes later, I start conversing with the witch in Avyanian in between her teaching Darius. Most of the talk is about her and her life growing up since I clearly couldn't give anything about me away. She told me she understood as she knows very well who I am and what I do. I asked why she didn't seem scared of me sitting so close, and she simply responded with, "Just because you're a killer and a trained murderer, doesn't make you any less a girl, and a child nonetheless."
I didn't know what to say to that, so I changed the subject to Darius. Apparently, she's been teaching him everything from astronomy to dictation. She's his only professor, and it amazes me how much she knows. I've been asking her nonstop questions for the past hour, and she doesn't seem too annoyed yet. Instead, she asks me questions in turn and smiles when I get the answer right - which, so far, has been every time. Go me.
"What about Lithian?" I ask her. Darius has been working on his spelling, writing a paragraph about his day, and describing them in more detail. Based on his constant glances at our conversation, I'd say he's not focused.
She gives me a curious look before answering. "I know a few words, but the dead language is just too confusing for me to try and wrap my old head around. I'm too old anyways, what would learning a new language do for me in my limited time?"
"Aren't you only like..." I look her and up and down again. "Thirty-seven?"
"Don't mock me, child, this could be my last day on this wretched shithole for all you know." She points her pen at me with a threatening edge as if it were a blade.
"Still, you've got some life in you. I can usually sense when death's creeping around the corner."
"Because you kill so many?" she prompts casually. I should think that it's weird how easily her and I have a conversation about death, and she's not even the slightest bit uneasy about it. People would usually be getting antsy if I started talking about such topics.
"No," I answer slowly, still not sure if I should keep talking and ruin the content time I'm having. She lifts a brow, waiting for the rest of my answer. Against my better judgement, I decide to see what happens. "Because people have a certain look in their eyes when they know death is coming. Not only that, their eyes have that same look when they're ready to die. Your eyes are full of a force far too stubborn to allow death to take you now."
She doesn't respond, only looks at me with slow churning eyes before telling Darius to conjugate another word in the past preterit tense. A little pop quiz I've noticed her to launch on him when he least expects it. It's a good way to drill things into his head, according to her. He begged to differ and claimed it gave him more anxiety than memory.
People always look at me strangely when I tell them what I just told Aracely. It's like they found something in me that they couldn't believe was there. I asked Gretel about it once when I was drunk and decided to share my unending murderous wisdom with her. She just shook her head and changed the subject to a nicely tanned blonde who was sitting in a corner booth in the tavern. She tried convincing me to go talk to him, but I knew what would happen. He would see the balaclava and suit and instantly pale before finding the quickest way to get out of the tavern. All the men did it when I approached them, but when they came to me, it was either to ask me for a favor or to try and get me to show my "luscious lips."
Looking at Aracely now, I feel more exposed than anything. I mean I haven't told her anything that's true about me, but sometimes you don't really need to hear the truth to find it.
Outside the library, the bell tower rings five and both Aracely and Darius close their books. Guess that's it for today. "Gracias, Aracely. Como siempre, fue una placer." I've gotta give him props for his accent, it's spot on. If only he could entirely phrase what he wants to say, he'd be a perfect student.
We say our farewells to Aracely before walking back through the halls. My addiction gets the best of me and I end up scanning a few titles and running my fingers on others as we walk. I don't know why, but I couldn't care less about Darius knowing that I like books. I've known him for a handful of days and I already - in the most minimalistic of ways - trust him.
Is it just me, or is this progressing unnervingly fast? The trust I mean.
I've been raised to trust no one but my family, and yet here I am, already giving the Crown Prince of all people a piece of my trust. A spec, but still, it's a piece.
We go through the Queen's Garden and the rest of the castle in silence, though I do make sure to bedazzle the guards waiting at the tower archway. I will only stop when one of them tries sneaking into my room one night.
Noting the Dozen moving past to line the hallway and start of the staircase to his room, I walk into my room and turn to close the door when Darius so graciously invites himself in and walks into the sitting room like he owns the place. Okay, he does own the place, but that doesn't mean that he can just walk into my room whenever he feels like it. Garrison moves to follow Darius, but I close the door on his face before he can do so. A malicious grin spreads through my face. I enjoy being an annoying thorn in his side all too much.
Kat walks out of the bedroom holding sheets and what looks like to be silk in her arms. She looks at me, then to where Darius went, and then back at me with raised eyebrows. I simply sigh before walking to the sitting room, motioning for her to follow. I don't need rumors of the Prince and his personal guard going at it floating throughout the halls, so I might as well have a witness.
"Is there a reason as to why you're in my chambers, or are you just trying to find somewhere to take the Lord's daughter later for some alone time?" I stop beside the settee he's made himself comfortable in. If you consider sitting on the cushion's edge with your head hidden in your hands comfortable. Maybe his lessons worked that one brain cell too hard, but either way, I'm not spending more time with him than absolutely needed, and I don't need to right now. "Because there's no way I'm being your cover up."
"No way?" His hands fall from his face, revealing a not at all teasing tell on him.
I blink at him before responding. "Are you actually thinking about making Eleanor moan in my room tonight?"
"What - No - I..." He sighs bringing his hands back up to face. It's one thing to ask me to tell a lie to the guards as to the Prince's whereabouts, but to have sex in my room when everyone knows very well as to the rumored Prince's behavior, is an entirely different thing. He did look utterly disgusted at the idea though. It was kind of funny.
"Look, I get that you have to have your fun, but-"
"I don't want to have sex with the Lord's daughter!" he yells slouching in the couch.
"I'm confused," I admit. I cross my arms and set my feet. A thing I do more times than I care to reveal. It's an old habit of always preparing for a fight. I don't like being caught off guard.
He sighs again, bringing his hand to his face again before looking at me right in the eyes. "I don't want to use your room. I want to use you."
"Excuse me?" Now he wants me to have-
"Not use you, use you. Just..." A frustrated growl bursts from his throat. "Gods why is this so hard to explain."
"Because you're overthinking it," Kat intercedes from the doorway. We both look to her, eyebrows raised and waiting for her to explain. I know I told her to speak freely, I just didn't expect her to adjust so quickly. It seems she's wanted to be free for a long time.
She sighs at Darius before turning to me. "He wants you to pretend to be his lover so that he doesn't have to engage with Eleanor - or any other eligible lady for that matter."
I open my mouth to say something, probably some smartass remark, but nothing comes out. I turn to Darius in hopes that Kat has the wrong idea, but his face destroys that hope. "You can't be serious?" I protest. "Have you even thought this through?"
"All day," he states.
"All day." As in ever since his mother told him to entertain the Lord of Lander's daughter. I thought it was a funny thought then, but now I'm wishing the Queen was asleep. "And how, exactly, do you plan on keeping my identity a secret while I'm playing to be your...lover?" I try to say the disgusting word without strain in my voice, but I clearly fail.
"A masquerade." Stupid, stupid hope fills his eyes. "We'll make the party a masquerade."
"And what about future parties? You can't honestly believe that if I show up tonight people won't begin questioning where I am in the future. If you bring me tonight, they're not going to believe a single word of the story we somehow come up with if I'm only seen once." Darius opens his mouth to respond but closes it. I'm right, and he knows it.
Princes don't just show up to parties bringing unknown and mysterious women that aren't of proven nobility - nor has it been heard of before - to then bring to thought the idea of marriage, and then suddenly be back in the market. Those things are called betrothals, and only in death does it all fall apart. Not that I'd ever let it get so far as marriage. Nevertheless, if Darius uses me to avoid Eleanor tonight but then accepts another's offer to dance at the next party, the Lord may plead malfeasance to Darius and bring him and his family to shame. A riot - or worse a rebellion, may break out. I know it's a little drastic, but in the royal court, you can never predict the outcome.
"She's right." Kat sets the sheets and cloth on the table, before settling in the chair opposite of me. "If you do this tonight, you'd have to do this every time there's a party, ball, gathering of the courts, or whenever you're not in the tower, to avoid complications."
"Then comes the explanation of why your personal guard and lover are never in the same place at once," I add.
"Or as to why your lover's always wearing something to cover up her face." I scowl at her. She's been not so subtly trying to find a way to get me to take off my balaclava, claiming it needs a wash or that I can't bathe with it. I have several copies of the thin but opaque fabric, and I don't bathe with it, I just kick her out and lock the doors. Her attempts have failed, and they will continue to do so despite her efforts.
Darius sinks deeper into the settee. "Okay, I get it. It's going to need some planning."
"Some?" Kat asks.
"A lot," he confesses
I look between the two of them. "I'm sorry, did I miss the part where I agreed to this? I didn't, by the way, in case you two weren't clear on that little fact. Why can't Kat do it? Why me?"
She shifts in her chair, cheeks gaining color when she shyly glances at Darius. Such outspokenness and yet she still squirms. "I, uh...I'm only a servant."
"I'm a highly trained assassin," I point out.
"Which makes your experience playing a role far greater than mine," she retorts. "I'm a terrible liar."
"That's true." It's her turn to scowl, but she's right. She can't lie to save her life. Hiding her emotions, she can do, but when it comes to trying to verbally tell someone what she's either not feeling or really feeling, her eyes skitter, her fingers intertwine nervously, she bites her lip, her cheeks go pink, or she'll start playing with the collar of her clothing. She has so many tells that I find myself wanting to grab tape and make her stop.
But even with all of that struggle to say a false sentence, she does a grand job of hiding what her inner thoughts try to lead her toward. I doubt that in the whole time Claritia has had Kat under her service, that the Queen has noticed just how many times Kat's eyes drift to the window or how they'll get this distant vacant look in them. I doubt anyone knows how she really feels. That even though she can't lie, she's been lying her entire life, hiding her biggest secret.
I don't bring it up, figuring that if she wanted to talk about it she would, but I know what happens when you keep things like that within yourself rather than letting them out. It's why I keep her busy or talking or making sure she doesn't feel like she has to be the dutiful servant when she's with me. I keep her distracted, which is about the best thing I can offer her without giving away the fact that I know and possibly having her succumb to her thoughts. I don't know her that well, but I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone who didn't have a choice on what their mind lets rise to the surface.
There's no sign of it now that her embarrassment is ruling her thoughts. Not to mention the blooming confidence that has her holding my gaze because she knows that she's right. She can't lie and I can do so just as easily as I can breathe. That still doesn't mean that I want to do this. It's a downright ridiculous idea and I would rather be dead than considered a lover of the Prince. But...Gods and their Saints curse me to the deepest part of the Underworld, I'm curious.
Rarely is there a situation where I get to do something so...stupid. Common sense is telling me to say no and make him suffer to my amusement. That stupid, stupid part of my brain that's still a dreaming girl tells me to agree to it. It whispers temptations that are utterly and annoyingly irresistible. Like wearing ridiculously luxurious dresses and jewelry that I've always wanted to wear just because. The closest I got was to Rose's mother's dresses that she'd smuggle into the House of Jade when she'd visit and we'd try them on and pretend to be snobby nobles with entitlement issues.
I could walk the castle without people being scared of me - better yet, I could walk anywhere without people being scared of me, and that more than anything is more enticing than any of it.
I've lived most of my life hidden within the Jade cloak and suit, only being free of it when I'm alone or with those select few I trust. I've walked the streets dressed as a traveler visiting the capital before, but it's not the same. I still keep my hood up and stick to the shadows, not wanting someone to recognize me even though I wear dirt stained clothes with holes and worn boots.
I want to say no, but a part of me also wants to say yes just so I can get a taste of what some kind of normalcy feels like. There's nothing normal about being on the Prince's arm, but it's as close as I can get. And it'll make this whole assignment more entertaining than waking up, training, walking, going to lessons - that I do enjoy - and annoying the shit out of guards everywhere. I could still do the last part. Maybe even do more so dressed in a gown that would have anyone drooling.
Ugh, the temptation is near suffocating.
My brother is going to kill me.
I rub at the bridge of my nose, careful not to remove the balaclava. "Darius, schemes like these require an immense amount of planning. Even more so with having to also keep our current scheme in play - and need I remind you that that's if I agree to do this." He stays silent, and neither Kat or I have words for comfort, though she looks prone to breaking out into a grin any second now.
I want to help, but sooner or later people are going to find out it's a scheme, and when that day comes it's not going to end well. There are only few tricks that have guarantees that you'll come to reach your end goal, and those that don't are the ones we usually should refrain from using. No matter what we do, what stories and lies we create, Darius will still find himself back on square one. His mother will still pester him with potential suitors and the kingdom will be expecting him to be married before or sometime near his coronation. If anything, this scheme will only put off the inevitable.
But it could be fun...
I mentally stab the traitorous thought. "Look, Darius-"
"Haven't you ever wanted to be someone else? Haven't you ever wondered what your life would be like if you weren't an assassin? If people looked at you and treated you differently?"
I clamp my mouth shut. It's like he hears my whole inner debate and is now using it against me.
It's the reality of mine and my brother's lives. All I wonder is what being a normal girl would be like. Sure I scorn and pity the ones who fit society's mold and uphold the expectations put on them, but that doesn't mean jealousy is a foreign thing to me. I know all too well what life is like on this end of the rope. What I want is to understand the knots in between. Even with my father I often feel like I'm still holding up a mask around my face. Once you've become the thing you've been forged and welded to be, you find that your purpose is mistaken. The Gods make you with every bit of intention that you'll become what they've given you, but then you're raised to be anything but.
If anyone in this town knows what wanting to be seen as something else is like, it's Darius. He lives by the court's expectations and guidelines. He's expected to be courtly and mannered, clean and sharp at all times to establish a strong front for the people. The things he wants to do, he can't, and the things he wishes he could stop doing, never do.
I want to live on the coast and drink in the salt lined air, but I took a vow to the Jade Assassins, and to the vow I shall obey. I wish I could keep my eyes from scouring every room for possible exits and threats, but they now do it out of a nearly eleven year old habit. I've wished and wondered my whole life, but common ground on longings isn't enough to make me say yes.
Darius still waits for my answer, his elbows on his knees, eyes pleading.
My brother is really going to kill me.
I step closer to him, a move that has his spine straightening. He's likely remembering the last time I did this and how he ended up pale as a piece of paper while I threatened his life. I'm not threatening his life this time, but I do use my finger to make the point clear that I'm not below doing so again.
"You answer this question with complete and utter honesty, and I'll do it." He blinks in surprise but otherwise keeps still. In my periphery, Kat's grin wins her fight to smother it. "But you need to tell me the truth, or I will personally ensure that it's Eleanor's finger that ends up with three diamonds in the shape of a heart on it."
We stare at each other, his eyes clearly debating what question it is I'll ask and whether or not he wants to answer it. I said that I didn't like people lying to me because it leads to betrayal, and after Will and everything that happened, I'm not going to go into this lover alias blind without being sure that I won't be left broken in the dark again. Never again.
His nod is more comforting than it should be. My lungs release the air I didn't realize they were holding onto. That part of me that wants to say yes is starting to hope to greatly, and hope never ends well with me, so I ignore it and keep my eyes on his.
"Who do you want me to be? Who's my alias? How will she be expected to speak, dress, and behave? Who is it she needs to be in order to be accepted as a suitable and potential lover to the Crown Prince of Vandaria? What is it you're asking of me, Darius?"
He doesn't even hesitate to answer. "You. I want you to be you." I feel my whole body go still, but not in the bad, murderous killer kind of way. "Your alias is nothing but a different name. You can speak, dress, and behave in whatever manner you want. You need not try and fit the mold of a suitable and potential partner to the Crown Prince because the mold is nothing but an outsider's viewpoint on a life that isn't their own. I am asking you to be nothing but who your heart has been made to beat for. I say this all with every ounce of honesty I have," he swears, never once blinking as he continues to hold my stare.
I...
Me.
I'm not entirely sure who that is at the moment.
His words ring true, and I didn't realize that it's the answer I wanted so badly to hear – one I've wanted to hear for years – until the words fell off his lips. Words I've needed. Words of pure honesty, not a spec of deceit in them.
I don't hate who I've become or the skills I've acquired, but I do hate pretending. I hate having to walk into a room, my Ebony blades visible and sparkling, my voice cold and empty, my eyes hard as stone and body rigid yet swift. I am the Ebony Nightingale in some ways, but it's not entirely me. I'm not entirely me. I haven't been for a decade, and maybe it's the uncertainty of his offering - the thought that I could discover not only what I can become, but who I am, yet I know my answer and I'm half terrified of what it will bring about.
"Okay."