when: chapter 1, event 1 - “ a bonding of houses most vicious ” where: ceremony site. with who: anyone !
the king was a fake.
perhaps it was too easy for him to notice, or the small circle really had gone lax with the excuse of the marriage trying to hide away whatever happened to that wreck of a sovereign their nation was stuck with still or even render him even more of a vulnerable target for any fool to hit in public and any veteran of the trade to hit far away where truly his tragic majesty was hidden --for his lord, that would be too many a chance to further his goals, and for himself to collect information and details that would ease such plans to fruition. it was expected of him, after all --a dutiful doll for such a cruel and conniving master to be proud of, he was--, and just as expectedly he’d store such an information in one of the many crevices of broken mind of his for later reports.
a false king exhibiting a false pride in an even falser ceremony only meant it was all a coverup to something much sinister. the familiar churn of deceit, how easy to catch and how easy it’d make his own jaw clench in tension, trailing along columns like a shadow.
he just wished for such event not to be as noisy --for his gift not to have limits so he could shut away every mouth and chatter in a blink ; but oh, he couldn’t. too many people despite the area being big enough for him to technically cover, and isolating his own sound would only make himself unhearable ( as if that wasn’t already done, what kind of trained blade would he be ! ) to those masses. and he had a princess to keep an eye on, whose face screamed of how she’d rather be hiding into necropolis rather than be there.
and to judge the startle he had given to nearby person ... “ apologies. it wasn’t my intention to startle. ” something he was oddly used to, by now. “ so many concerned faces for an event people love to define ‘happy’. ”










