Aurelia is a Courtesan, not an Assassin. Her world is turned upside down, however, when she kills a high-ranking Senator in self defense. Given his status, and the political power his family wields, Aurelia knows she will be executed without a trial...
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Countdown: 5 days, 21 hours, 6 deaths
Light pours in through the stained-glass window overlooking the balcony, each shaft of it a dagger to Aurelia's optic nerve. It feels as though her brain itself is throbbing, pressing against the walls of her skull in protest. She whimpers and pulls the blanket up over her face to block out the light, to trap herself within a dark cocoon.
The metallic clattering of pots and pans, a crash and a muffled curse penetrate the warm, dim nest she's created for herself, and her head pulses in protest.
"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey," she hears Colin's gruff voice shout, the noise making her head pound so strongly that it seems the force of it will pop her eyeballs from their sockets. She thinks she might throw up.
"I hate you," she groans, miserably, when Colin's bony hand rips the blanket off of her, exposing her to the painful, blinding light of what seems to be mid-morning. She buries her head in her arms and whimpers.
"Feeling's mutual, Rat," he mutters, and she squeaks when she feels him pick her up off the couch and deposit her roughly into one of the rickety chairs at his wobbly kitchen table. "Take these," he says, and she squints her eyes open long enough to see him place two capsules in her hand.
"You trying to kill me?" she mumbles, not really caring if that is the case, and he scoffs as she knocks them back.
She immediately closes her eyes again and buries her head in her hands. Something clatters down in front of her, the noise making her flinch and the scent making her stomach flip over. She opens one eye and peeks down at it, sees a chipped plate filled with slightly burned scrambled eggs and a bowl of runny rice porridge.
This piques her interest. She lifts a brow, glancing up at Colin. "You going soft or something, old man?" she mumbles, and he scoffs, waves her off, grunting and rolling his eyes.
"'Course not. I'm just keeping you alive long enough to get paid. I expect to get reimbursed for this, by the way. I'll add it to your tab," he retorts, picking up a mug of steaming coffee and taking a long sip. "Eat," he commands, gesturing to the unappetizing breakfast he'd placed before her.
Her stomach growls, despite the fact that the food looks disgusting and she still feels like she's going to be sick. When she takes a bite of the overcooked, brown eggs, she realizes she must be starving. She inhales the unpalatable food; she hasn't eaten since breakfast with Camellia yesterday morning.
When Colin sets a mug of coffee down in front of her, she takes a large sip of it, hoping the caffeine will help ease her headache. She usually prefers tea with breakfast, but she isn't about to complain. As the bitter black brew floods her tongue, she tastes something else beneath the strong flavor of the coffee- recognizes the burn of the amber liquid from the night before. Her nose scrunches, and Colin chuckles.
"Hair of the dog- just enough to help with the hangover," he explains, and she nods.
"Thank you," she whispers, feeling humbled, and Colin shrugs.
