Adam
33rd Day of Summer, 997th Year of Grace
I walked the length of Belmire's cobbled street, my trench coat wrapped tight around my body.
The air in the city had soured with the common people's suffering.
I still heard men whispering of the rising taxes and even encountered soldiers pressing citizens for coin in alleyways.
Thorne Graceford had been bleeding Belmire dry ever since the Governor left for the western borders.
I reached the inn I had been staying at since the previous day and went straight to my room.
I had told Alex that I would be out of the city on a mission for the following week or two and decided to rent a room at a small inn near The Pilgrim.
I shut the shutters of the room and set the latch before leaning against the table set under the window.
I was told to make his death seem natural. So outright murder is out of question... Setting his room on fire would endanger others if not controlled in time. It may still be suspected as arson...
I began listing what I knew about my target:
1. Thorne lives in a detached manor in the Governor's estate upon the hill.
2. He drinks quite heavily--wine, mostly foreign.
3. I have heard he had spent some time in Koltar during his youth and picked up the habit of smoking pipeleaf there.
4. Though he is officially a bachelor, I was told by agents in the Obsdian that he has numerous mistresses in and outside Belmire. Sometimes he visits them too.
5. Informats at the estate had reported past illnesses to the True Faithful--usually chest pain and gastric reflux.
The illness gave me an opening. If I make his death seem like the result of a disease's complication, it would fulfill the requirements to complete the mission.
I paced the room, running a hand through my hair. I had not tied them up today.
Before joining the Obsidan, Crow had taught me various methods of snuffing a person--a knife between the ribs, rope around the throat, powder that stilled the heart, herbs to loosen the bowels until life poured out alongside other stuff.
But all those left traces and suspicion of murder.
The True Faithful wanted the masses to believe that Thorne's own excess had killed him.
I remembered Alex's face when she told me the words that noble brat had spoken to her. Elijah was a threat to my family and I needed to make sure he stays away from my sister by all means necessary.
I told myself it was for her own good.
I sat at the table and began planning.
The first thing needed was the method.
I had once read in a book about a root used by doctors in small dosages to numb the pain of patients. But when used in large dosages, it could weaken the heart until it stopped beating entirely.
Pa told me that the root itself was bitter in taste but when roasted a bit over dying embers and ground into a fine powder, the root left no trace of its existence once laced into a food or drink with a strong taste.
It was the perfect ingredient for the mission since even skilled doctors or physicians couldn't detect the drug and often considered an overdose case to be sudden heart failure or other complications of the heart.
All I needed to do was get the drug into his cup of wine and his hand would deliver his end to him.
The second essential thing was the opportunity.
I had heard that Thorne spent his evenings in the private gardens of his manor, smoking pipeleaf and drinking nightly--sometimes even till dawn. I needed to slip in while he was busy in his own world and sneak in the drug when he distracted by something. Or I could have the drug mixed in with his drink before it was delivered to him.
Third most important part was the escape.
I needed to vanish the moment the deed was done and not get caught.
It was a simple plan on paper but executing it perfectly was bound to be a pain.
Alexandra
33rd Day of Summer, 997th Year of Grace
Adam had left the previous day on a mission and I tried not to think about the sort of work he might have been doing while I lay on the bed, clutching the spot where his warmth should have been.
Sometimes I imagined him falling on some unknown streets, his body left to rot while I waited for him here, staring at the walls.
The thought made my stomach seize and breath turn shallow.
There was that valet too.
I had replayed his words again and again within my mind, each word still burning. He has spoken like a madman--or perhaps, his feelings were genuine.
Yet, I hadn't seen him in seven days now.
What am I supposed to make of that? Why did he say such stuff if he was going to disappear like this? Or... Is it because I told him he was bothering me? Is that why he won't appear before me?
But how was I supposed to understand his feelings when I had never learned what such love felt like? The only love I had known was taken from me when I had abandoned my parents to flee from Orrinwick.
I'm nothing but a thief who steals the lives of others. I stole my parents' after all. And now, I was stealing my brother's by making him work for my sake. I don't deserve anyone's heart.
I rose from the bed and sat with my legs folded close to my chest.
The silence within the room was unbearable, broken only by the sound of my shallow breathing.
I needed Adam to come back home as soon as possible. I needed him to stroke my hair while he whispered lies if comfort.
After all, lies were better than emptiness.
I thought of the valet again.
His words had stirred something within me--something I didn't know what to name. It was an alien feeling and I hadn't dared acknowledge its existence.
I'm not worthy of love. I thought. I'm just someone who robs the dignity of the dead by living on in their stead.
I curled tighter into myself and only prayed for Adam's safe return.