You know what I thought. You did not have to run, the Palace was teeming with guards, any one of them would have kept you safe.
[After the demonstration, everyone knew her face. The mistakes made to the row of saints and the picture of the Sun Summoner as looking more Fjerdan than Shu. The blonde hair replaced with the dark locks that fell so delicately around Alina's face.
A night he doesn't allow himself to dwell on, pushing it back down with his lost hope and the rage that flooded through him at the confirmation that Alina had lied. Had looked in to his eyes, lips on his and lied.
The sweetest one of all, the one he had longed to hear. Telling him what he wanted to hear, more perfectly than any assassin before her.]
She knew because she was there. She knew why I was desperate enough, hurt enough, to even think about using merzost to-
[He stops, breathing hard.
Too many truths. The secrets he holds closer to his chest than his name, the regret he came here for. The terrors he inflicted on the world in the name of lost love and hopeless ambition.]
You told me the story of the Black Heretic. By the fountain, when I revealed a part of my past. How could I have told you what name I used to hold, the moniker that was thrust upon me by a worthless king and his terrified men.
no subject
You did not have to run, the Palace was teeming with guards, any one of them would have kept you safe.
[After the demonstration, everyone knew her face. The mistakes made to the row of saints and the picture of the Sun Summoner as looking more Fjerdan than Shu. The blonde hair replaced with the dark locks that fell so delicately around Alina's face.
A night he doesn't allow himself to dwell on, pushing it back down with his lost hope and the rage that flooded through him at the confirmation that Alina had lied. Had looked in to his eyes, lips on his and lied.
The sweetest one of all, the one he had longed to hear. Telling him what he wanted to hear, more perfectly than any assassin before her.]
She knew because she was there. She knew why I was desperate enough, hurt enough, to even think about using merzost to-
[He stops, breathing hard.
Too many truths. The secrets he holds closer to his chest than his name, the regret he came here for. The terrors he inflicted on the world in the name of lost love and hopeless ambition.]
You told me the story of the Black Heretic. By the fountain, when I revealed a part of my past. How could I have told you what name I used to hold, the moniker that was thrust upon me by a worthless king and his terrified men.