Apollonia didnât let go of his chin while she spoke. His deep blue eyes were wavering, as if he were admitting to her words.
âThatâs why you hesitated. Butâ¦â Apollonia dropped his chin.
âBut why didnât you kill me when you had the chance? Just like you said, my life is no more precious than yours.â
She waited for his answer, frowning. Yet Uriel had no answer to give her, because even he didnât know just why exactly he hadnât killed her. The moment heâd broken the barrier, his mind had been filled with the hunger to destroy her. Heâd thirsted to see her red eyes trembling in terror. He couldnât just give her an easy, simple death. Yet strangely, he didnât regret not killing her.
âWhatever the reason⦠I donât peg you as someone who gives up so easily.â
She seemed like she wanted  to say more, but the middle-aged knight next to her interrupted them.
âYour Highness, itâs nearly dawn. You need to decide what to do with him.â
âHmm⦠for now, lock him up for three days. If itâs not clear whether the assassin survived or not, my aunt will kill Safiro so she doesnât leave behind any traces of her presence in the plot. Thereâs a wound in his shoulder, so give him a painkiller in the meantime.â
She knew more than heâd expected.
âAnd after three days, ki-â
Her voice broke off, and she bit her lips. Her eyes quivered slightly.
âKill him.â Uriel finished the sentence for her. The princess looked at him, puzzled.
ââ¦What?â
âI already told you. If I fail my mission, Iâll die anyways. You might as well kill me in three days, and save Safiro some work.â
Uriel was serious. Safiro had lost many of his assassins, and if heâd continued to do well, he would have eventually been assigned to a mission even he couldnât carry out. And just like the rest of them, heâd someday be disposed of. All of Safiroâs wolves met similar ends.
He found little pleasure in the life Safiro allowed him to have, so he had no reason to keep on living, anyways. He didnât have a reason to die, either, so he just endured. His life was always intense, but he was bored of it all. Although he had no plans to die, he didnât think death could be as bad as life.
âYou donât seem to have any affection for your master.â
âSafiro is not my master. Nor is the Leifer family.â
He didnât have anything to lose, so he didnât care what happened to him. His nonchalant reply cut off the princessâs words. The knight next to her gasped, but he didnât care.
âItâs just my bad luck that I canât escape this life.â It felt satisfying to be able to give that bastard Safiro just a little of what he deserved before Uriel died.
Her eyes widened when she heard his response. She jumped up, and yanked Urielâs chin towards her. Her touch was harsh.
âThe worst sinner, Safiro⦠the man who kidnapped innocent children, and made assassins out of them with ruthless torture.â Uriel locked eyes with Apollonia while he spoke.
âYour Highnessâ¦â
The middle-aged knight once again called her name, but she didnât take her eyes off Uriel.
âHe crippled the spirit, the soul, and even the sight of those children, all in order to beat them down and subjugate them.
ââ¦I know this very well.â Uriel smiled, and pulled his robe down his arm. The princess and the knight both gasped. Dozens of vicious, brutal scars ran across his shoulders. Some of them were raised well above the skin.
âBut sometimes, theyâ¦â
He paused for a moment. Apollonia finished his words for him.
âSometimes⦠there are people who choose the wrong path.â
ââ¦â
ââ¦You must have endured a lot.â
She showed a rare moment of compassion. The pain in his wounded shoulder was slowly getting worse, but Uriel didnât feel as bad as heâd expected.
âHow old are you?â
Uriel glanced up at the girl who looked down at him. The compassion that had flashed in her eyes was gone, and had been replaced by something else.
âSeventeen.â
She gripped Urielâs face even harder, and pulled him closer to her. He flinched when the pain in his shoulder shuddered through his body. The corners of her mouth slowly began to turn upwards.