He sat there confused, squinting through the pain. Sebastian being dead either made things better or worse and he couldn't decide. “Did he die in the fire?” It was unlikely but if they were looking for him it would be worse. But if it was unrelated, then it probably helped him. A back alley scuffle and a fire paled before regicide and anyone with a decent sense of mortality probably assumed him dead. All the better as far as he was concerned. A sudden white hot thought hit his head. “Was it the same night?” Were they the distraction for something more sinister? He stewed in the thought of being used. Perhaps the plan was always to get caught and cause hell. Damn.
One thing had gone right though. He picked the right salamander for the job. His hand slowly fumbled under the blanket over his stomach, lightly tracing the thick stiches in his side. His skin felt sickly and sallow, lacking the taut fullness of a belly full of infection. A job like this without an ounce of magic in a dimly lit room directly after a days work was unreal. The fact it had a chance to work was wild enough to consider, but that it did was even more boggling. He sat there unblinking. A moments lapse gave Esme days of tired work and perhaps cost them a good chunk of their earnings. Shameful redness burned his face. He stammered out a quiet “Im sorry” to the dimming window light.
To any other Salamander he wouldn't be so open, but Esme was different. Always had been. He always had more trust, and more time for her. It was natural to pick her for this for her skill set but it was always the default in his head. Perhaps a dangerous train of thought for a leader to have, but he was glad he had had it in the right now. He reached out quietly, his hand overtop hers and squeezed just enough to feel her hand flex underneath. Far too much effort for him in this exact moment but had to do it. Gesture replacing lost and confused words.
One thing had gone right though. He picked the right salamander for the job. His hand slowly fumbled under the blanket over his stomach, lightly tracing the thick stiches in his side. His skin felt sickly and sallow, lacking the taut fullness of a belly full of infection. A job like this without an ounce of magic in a dimly lit room directly after a days work was unreal. The fact it had a chance to work was wild enough to consider, but that it did was even more boggling. He sat there unblinking. A moments lapse gave Esme days of tired work and perhaps cost them a good chunk of their earnings. Shameful redness burned his face. He stammered out a quiet “Im sorry” to the dimming window light.
To any other Salamander he wouldn't be so open, but Esme was different. Always had been. He always had more trust, and more time for her. It was natural to pick her for this for her skill set but it was always the default in his head. Perhaps a dangerous train of thought for a leader to have, but he was glad he had had it in the right now. He reached out quietly, his hand overtop hers and squeezed just enough to feel her hand flex underneath. Far too much effort for him in this exact moment but had to do it. Gesture replacing lost and confused words.
10-18-2024, 03:12 AM
