angry, too

5. Red and White

   Drop, drop, drop.

   Splashes of crimson fell on velvety white fabric beneath her. "Fuck," Lethe muttered to herself. She had been trying her best to mend a ceremonial robe, but she had never been very goot at anything involving needles or sewing, and had managed to jab her thumb with a stitch ripper.

   She grunted in frustration and threw her cloak to the ground, walking across her room to a small basket with bandages and ointments. She'd been having a lot of these accidents lately. Mainly her just being clumsy, but she was also starting to register just how bad her nerves were.

   She really did not want to go through with this marriage. More than anything, she wanted to be alone and free to do whatever she wanted. But the concept of freedom seemed basically foreign to her. Her brother had never afforded her freedom. She was always expected to abide by the rules then and now.

   Be seen, not heard.

   That was what every man in her life expected of her. They always told her that was what they expected of women in general. But was she supposed to be resigned to this? Was she just supposed to lie down and take it after this? She shuddered, knowing just what was expected of her. She was overthinking this, and that was a very bad thing.

   Lethe knew that this marriage would be safe for her. The man she decided to marry did not love her, but he did not pay her very much attention either. She knew that she had to look out for attentive men who thought that they could take advantage of her.

   But sacrificing herself for the bare minimum? Was that something that she wanted to keep doing? Lethe's brain was wracked with questions swirling around, making it chaos to try and think.

  There were so many things that she had to consider.

*

  "Did you hear about the warlord that's coming to town?" Was always an interesting way to start the day. Viktor was drinking a cup of coffee, mildly irritated.

   "No, I have not."

   "He's getting married to some bitch from a dead kingdom," The drunken guard next to him said. The Inn was busy with the morning chatter and it seemed that a couple of the guards were getting drunk early as they waited for the bullshit that was going to happen next.

   Whenever someone dangerous was rumoured to come to town, this always happened. The guards felt it necessary to overcompensate for their failure to protect their actual citizens here.

   It was pretty amusing.

   "Oh? Is he going to have his wedding here?"

   The drunkard nodded. "Yes, the big bosses are mad that the resulting carnage from that wedding will fuck up our town." One of the perks about the police force here being incompetent was the fact that Viktor could basically get away with whatever he wanted to get away with.

   "I would imagine so, but something tells me they're going to pin that shit on you, aren't they?"

   "Yep, but let me tell you something...this warlord...fucking loaded...if he sets a price, I'll be getting out of the way as soon as he wants. Both as self preservation and because-you know-money."

   "Right," Viktor had to suppress a smile. This was interesting information. Just the type of thing that he wanted to learn about. "Well, thank you." He tossed some gold to pay for his and the drunken guard's drink onto the bar and got up. A twinge of pain shot through his leg and he grimaced. "Very good talk," He patted the man on the back before walking away, with a plan formulating for his next heist.