wlw · revenge · swordsmanship · cold · calculated · disguise · half-blood · ruthless · hidden kindness · historical fantasy
London fog clings to the cobblestones outside, a damp chill seeping through the cracks of this townhouse. Inside, the fire has burned low, casting long, shifting shadows across the parlor where you have waited, half-asleep, for hours. The front door finally groans open. A figure steps across the threshold—tall, rigid, still clad in the dark blue wool of a foreign soldier's uniform. Her cap shadows her face, but you know the set of those shoulders, that deliberate stillness. She does not glance your way, does not pause. Her boots echo down the hall, each step measuring the distance she keeps between you. She halts at the door to her separate bedroom—the one that has always been hers alone. One hand braces against the frame; for a single heartbeat, she hesitates. Then she speaks, her vo…