When the histrionic outburst of lies finally came to an end, in the room there were only three left, gone were the private attendants serving the participants that had taken part to the Werewolf - just as the rest of the staff assigned to that room.
Finally alone, Madame Hellenia started applauding at the spectacle the other two were giving her, a ghost of a smile dancing on her lips until she got up from her seat.
Her movements did not achieve the desired result, as Rosalynde didn't lower an inch of her gun. Her arm was starting to burn, but that was still nothing compared to the training she had to endure when she was younger.
She could maintain that specific stance for hours if she wanted, nothing would have stopped her, not even her own body would have altered her actions - that by then would have started rebelling against her mind.
"I'm going to retire for the night, you'll be hearing from me soon." Madame Hellenia said to Grey as she went for the private exit, turning around briefly to look at the scene she was soon going to leave.
"It was a pleasure meeting you Miss, I sincerely hope you'll be joining us soon for another round of games very soon." She bowed her head,
"And I hope I will not have the pleasure of seeing you again," the games were over, this little chit-chat of theirs would have brought to life absolutely nothing useful for Rosalynde to use to exchange information.
Laughter was all Grey and Steel heard as Madame Hellenia left them to fend for themselves.
"So, now that I won the game, mask off," he ordered her.
"You cheated," she countered back.
"Not really, all I did was take advantage of the unexpected situation that came up," he made it sound all so simple, so obvious - as if explaining it to a young child to make sure the message got through.
Rosalynde had to admit he was good at twisting plain facts to his advantage, way better than she'd originally anticipated.
"A situation that would have never occurred if you and that woman hadn't drugged Loid here." She moved her finger till it was pointing at the floor, her index finger reminding him of the man that'd been shot to death just a few moments before.
Dead he was, but not by her hand.
"True that, but alas, he finally served his purpose in life. I wouldn't feel downhearted if I were you, " Rosalynde busted out laughing.
Sad? Remorseful? Who... her?
"Sounds like you've been preparing for this night for a while now." This time it was Grey that laughed at her face.
"I won't deny it, the only unforeseen pleasant surprise was a new player joining us tonight." He nodded towards Rosalynde, who didn't know if to release the bullet right there right now, or if to play his game and collect information.
Then it came to her that Lord Regulus wanted to talk to him, and talking needed both narrator and listener alive.
That's when Rosalynde decided which game to play, lowering her gun before making it slide on the floor.
"Unload, and put the safe on," he ordered her with kindness, and only after she did exactly what he'd asked of her, he lowered his gun in return.
"Now, let's talk about why you came here tonight to talk to me," he said.
"Why do you think I wanted to speak with you directly, and not with the other players in the room?" She genuinely asked, mostly because she wanted to know how he'd realized it without her openly stating it.
"The name," he taunted her, but was quick to realize that he had to explain after perceiving that she still hadn't understood his statement.
"When you came into the room, you slowly started asking for everyone's name, everyone's, except for mine," he explained.
Rosalynde stomped a shoe against the ground, cursing at herself as she scolded her brian for having been so careless in approaching his dangerous games.
She may have been the wolf in the game only, but the true wolf had always been him, sharpening his claws with an unnatural perfection before pinning her on the ground - slashing her mind with an unrequited brutal force.
"Quite right Hector Grey, pardon me for not introducing myself before but the situation wasn't exactly playing in my favor." Grey did dare avert his gaze as Rosalynde slowly took off her mask, her eyes locking with his as she threw the mask behind her, making it land beside the body of the now dead Loid.
"Pleased to meet you Hector Grey, my name is Rosalynde Steel," she didn't lie this time, there was no reason to lie about her real name, not anymore at least.
The smile dancing on Grey's face had long been gone when he intertwined his hands, making his elbows rest on the table.
"Miss Steel, it's a pleasure knowing your real name. So, what is it that made you cross paths with me tonight?" He didn't always joke around as Rosalynde had initially thought, he could be serious when he wanted, just like he was now.
"The Lady I serve that wishes to speak to you," there, clear and concise, like a single drop of rain falling from a cloudless sky.
Apparently thought that didn't seem to be enough for the man, who took his sweet time in deciding if to bother his vocal chords to give her an answer or if to give her the silent treatment.
"You work for someone extremely high placed, I just need to figure out who," it was more something of a statement rather than a rhetorical question.
"Excellent, what else did you deduce?" The orders were to bring him to the Imperial Citadel in hope that he would strike a deal with the Crown, not that she couldn't interview him to see if he was suited enough for the role.
He cracked his knuckles one by one as he studied all the details he could lay his eyes on, making him draw in his breath before passing hand through his air.
"Surely someone at the top of the Empire, top that in total counts four great families. The Marquisate of Gilderoy, the Dukedom of Heriom, the Dukedom of Sternstorn, and lastly the ruling family of the Des Reslows. Taking out the Duke of Heriom as they've decided to stop attending social gatherings after the death of their youngest son nine years ago and the Marquise of Gilderoy that lost all their political power after angering the Crown, only the last two remain," he said with confidence.
Rosalynde tilted her head slightly to the side as she let him take his time in analyzing the situation a bit more, she could feel his eyes on her cheek, to then pass on her neck and chin.
He licked his dry lips before speaking. "You work for the Imperial family don't you?" Just the words Rosalynde wanted to hear for the last ten minutes.
"That's a bit generic don't you think?" This time it was her turn to taunt him, for not getting in sooner, for having wasted her precious seconds that she would have gladly used for training or organizing her new desk back to the imperial Citadel.
The first thing that flashed inside his eyes was a mixture of sardonic and sarcastic replies kept all together, but he was able to keep that in, swallowing whatever curse he wanted to throw at her before what seemed like a thunder striking his mind awake - his eyes growing in ancient remembrance.
"I read in the Lowen Chronicles Newspaper a few months ago of the latest orphanage that the Crown had built for the children that had lost their fathers and mothers at war. I remember clearly seeing a photo on the front page featuring the member of the family that inaugurated the orphanage, and beside her, I remember clearly seeing your face."
He was telling the truth. To appease the growing malcontent of the masses around the land, it'd been decided that Pharah would have been the one to cut the vermillion ribbon, the event had been closely followed by the Apostles, by Lord Regulus and Lord Brek in particular.
Another factor that'd proven essential had been to appease the Lowen Chronicles Newspaper article itself, with its words announcing the greatness of the dynasty had marvelously succeeded in its intent of calming the people.
Rosalynde found herself reminiscing about that day, she remembered the flashes blinding her eyes, standing behind Pharah as she read out loud the speech Lord Regulus had wroten for her.
She should have remembered the photo, a new invention that'd been invented less than ten years ago, but its popularity had begun less than a year ago - with the ignominious photos that'd brought to light the scandalous love affair between an aristocrat and a farmer under his direct care.
"I'm just a messenger, it's the lady I serve that wants to speak to you," Rosalynde lowered her voice, as if whispering a dark secret that nobody should have known.
For the Crown, for the Rowlian Empire, for was the mantra Rosalynde kept on repeating like a broken wheel in her mind, standing up from her seat to shake things a little, staring at nothing before moving into action.
Signing loudly, she went to grab her gun, always making sure that Grey would have not pointed his weapon on her head. After strapping back the gun to its original place, she gave him a mocking courtesy, all with a bemused smile as usual on her lips.
"Request an audience under my name in two days time, the people who know will know what to do with you," but he already had the reply ready for her.
"What if I don't?" She stopped on the threshold just like Madame Hellenia had done before her, mickinging the same spin of heels before putting a hand over her lips.
"Then I'll come to you like I did tonight, only that this time I won't come bearing a sincere message, but I'll come accompanied with your death sentence."
She would have made him meet his ancestors if the Crown would have ordered her, she would have even taken her own life away if that's what they would have wanted from her - this was nothing, still nothing to make her back down from the darkness which she'd grown to love.
This was nothing, and Grey would have soon come to terms with it.
꧁꧂
When Rosalynde passed the heavy iron gates of the Imperial Citadel, dawn had already appeared behind the low houses of the Rowlian capital. She was late, and at the same time early. She should have met Pharah right after Lord Regulus had dismissed her, but her mission had the priority over everything - even over the lady she served.
Greeting the front guards with a curt nod, she went straight for her living quarters. A plan, she had to come up with a stratagem, something that would have kept Grey stay put in the capital.
Slamming the door behind her she made her body fall limp on the bed, deep breaths in, deep breaths out. Every challenge required a sacrifice of some sort to make the impossible possible, every difficulty could be overcome if she was ready to give up a part of herself to achieve what she desired.
This had been her second lesson on how the world truly worked, learning it by heart right after she'd turned six, months after her arrival at the Imperial Citadel as a normal servant. The first lesson had been way worse, but both of them shared something that she couldn't just say no to.
Killing, staining her hands till red was all her vision could see for miles and miles, with oceans covered with crimson blood.
A chill crept down her spine as she shook her head, taking one of the two pillows she slept with, staring at it for a while before covering her head with the soft ornament filled with duck feathers.
On top of that, Grey wasn't the only thing she had to take care of now. The scene she'd witnessed with Loid madness, that frenzy that made him loose off bridges with what humans like her tended to call humanity, was something worth investigating. First thing after getting a decent amount of rest would have been locating which drug on the black market could make someone lose themselves like that.
It was annoying not to be in control of the situation, of not having the chessboard with each pawn labeled under something she knew she could take care of.
A knock then resounded throughout the room, making her scold at the person that dared interrupt her meditation, or what for her could be considered as meditation. Rosalynde didn't open the door though, she just made the person outside knock for a few minutes, knowing that soon enough he would have gotten bored for getting no replies, and that's exactly how it went, her usual smile widening as she started hearing its footsteps slowly getting farther and farther away from her door.
Taking the pillow off her face, she then looked out of the window, slowly getting up from the bed. Unlike Pharah, Rosalynde liked waking up with the first lights that the day was kind enough to offer her.
The invention of what academics and scientists called electricity had truly made the empire take a step forward and into a new era, but Rosalynde still hadn't completely succumbed to the simplicity behind magical making the darkest nights morph into the shiniest of days.
She didn't like it when multiple things tended to change all together at the same time, she couldn't control what was in the process of becoming something new, she couldn't twist it – all she could do was hide it till the times would have been right for her to let it out into the world.
She liked controlling the others under her, she loved the thrill of having someone take her fall on the chessboard that people liked to call politics.
But even there she always made sure to remember why she'd been brought to the Imperial Citadel, a shadow that would have been used till the darkness itself would have grown scared of her, she was no star that shone bright into the starry sky.
Just like she knew she would have never become a God, as that was a title that hopefully Pharah would have gained with her ascension to the throne, of course after taking out the other heir from the political picture.
Rosalynde was no God, nor she didn't believe in him, but belief was -and always would have been, a powerful weapon to use to keep the masses in check, reshaping them with a neverending ignorance that they would have unconsciously fuelled with their attachment to faith.
The only thing she was sure of was that she would have lived long enough to see the proclamation of a new one, a new Des Reslow ascending to the highest seat possible that the world they lived in could offer. She'd promised that the day Pharah became the master she swore to serve and protect.
"You know, people will start poisoning your tea if you treat everyone like they're nothing more than bugs crawling up your arm," Rosalynde didn't even turn around as Katherine stepped into the room, closing the door behind her with a gentle touch that Rosalynde could have never replicated.
"As if someone didn't try that already, I would give them some tips, but that wouldn't still be enough to make me fall," Katherine simply shook her head in amusement, half-expecting the reply she'd received.
"Ah right, You took care of them quite a while ago, I'd forgotten about them," Katherine laughed at the thoughts.
"What brings you here Katherine, shouldn't you be preparing yourself for the rehearsal?" Rosalynde finally asked.
There was a small pause before Katherine spoke, her jesting tones gone as she leaned against the door.
"Would you have killed me if I'd been the one that won the seat," Rosalynde didn't need to ask about what seat Katherine was referred to, and the unspoken answer that soon followed those heavy words remained anchored to the ground.
"Killing you would only be the second in a long series of deaths that would have made the pot overflow," she wasn't lying, she wasn't even trying to keep up appearances by pretending, her smile contained as always.
Rosalynde didn't watch Katherine escort herself out, all she heard was her footsteps quickly getting farther and farther away as she decided to change her attire, tossing the silver gown into the basket she kept in the bathroom before letting her hair free.
She'd lied to herself when she'd tried convincing her mind that what her heart loaded the most was what change brought with its advent. What she really loathed was the reality she'd been thrown in, for what the world had forced her to do at an age were every child should have had the freedom of growing up property, and with the love of their parents
She hated the world that'd made her bury her heart, shattering it so that she could survive long enough to see her dreams come true.
She hated it, but still there was nothing she could do except live with it till the day she would end it all.