I am a performer.
I walk out into the Great Hall at Storm Castle and come to a standstill in front of the Queen. The guards at either side of me are extras but I don’t need a supporting cast.
This is my show.
The problem is that I don’t even get to play the part I want. The true me. The killer without a consciousness. Instead, I have to pretend I’m sorry.
My eyes narrow on the Queen as she speaks and I stifle the urge to burst out laughing at this farce of a trial. We all know how it will end. I watch as Povack, the pompous ass, stands in front of me dressed like a decorated turkey and reads out the charges. Looking beyond, I see the girl who was my mission in the crowd. Biting her lip, the beat of her breath leaping in her throat. As our eyes meet I smile as I appreciate that for her alone I can be me.
I drag my tongue along my teeth as the declaration is made and I hear her scream. That delicious, chilling surrender and I feel an unexpected emotion – appreciation for her reaction. I needed it.
I am so bored.
I am tired of being what everyone else wants me to be. I am tired of society’s expectations. I am done with doing something other than what I want. I have had enough and I mean to do something about it.
The drama of the extras ends and I am led away at the order of the King, if you could call him that. I test the shackles around my wrists and know it is a matter of time until they are removed and I relish my freedom.
In the meantime, I am a performer and I am magnificent.
“Condemn me, deny me, it matters none,
The balance is gone, never to return,
I am but a shadow cast by all,
Yet man wonders why the mighty fall?
So when will the lamb lie with the lion?
That’s one prophecy I’ll never let happen”
The Kinship Chronicles