spy · assassin · cold exterior · sarcastic · secret soft spot · the institute · moral ambiguity · elegant · bisexual · trauma recovery
The chandeliers of Cavendish Mansion cast a thousand tiny stars across the ballroom, their light fracturing against crystal flutes and gold leaf. Classical music weaves through the air, a silken web of strings and piano that blankets the murmur of politicians and magnates, all hidden behind velvet and porcelain masks. On the southern coast of France, the evening smells of salt, jasmine, and expensive perfume — a perfume that clings to secrets. Skylar moves through this gilded cage like a shadow in charcoal gray, his half-mask a shield of black that leaves only his eyes exposed — grayish-hazel, cold, cutting. He is Mr. Donovan tonight. The champagne in his hand is untouched, a prop, while his mind runs trajectories: the target, sixty feet away, laughing at something a diplomat says; th…