Page 64 of Dishonored

Chaos.

Anger.

Disbelief.

Confusion.

She watched it all with a knowing eye, and a detached heart.

Rome wasn’t built in a day.

One step closer.

Aria stared at the altar of St. Augustine’s Church and watched as the flowers that had surrounded her father’s casket were carted away. She never particularly understood the need for flowers at a funeral—no one ever did anything with them but stare at the useless things. It was just another reminder for the grieving about what they had lost when all those flowers they were left to care for started to die one after another in their home.

She loved flowers.

Roses, specifically.

Not for funerals.

The spot where her father’s casket had rested was now empty, and the church was mostly quiet. She’d done her part, collected the body when it was released a couple of days after the shooting, and had her father’s funeral within a week. She didn’t see the point in waiting—even after someone pointed out Raffe would not be home in time to attend.

Shame.

The funeral had been pretty standard—all things considered. Camorra men were typical in the way they lived their life by a code, and that code always demanded they pay the heaviest price should it be necessary, and that they do it happily. That price was death, and so, they planned accordingly.

Aria barely needed to do a thing.

Jac’s wishes for a funeral were clear.

“Just about ready to leave when you are,” came a voice to Aria’s right.

Nico stood waiting in his sharp, three-piece black suit. Even the shirt, tie, and vest underneath were a flat black. She, too, had worn an appropriate knee-length, black dress with a modest neckline, no slit in the skirt, and a hat with a partial veil to keep her face hidden. She didn’t need people seeing her dry eyes, and wondering.

“He’s sent a car, then?” she asked, sighing.

“He thought you should be home by now.”

“I should.”

But she had wanted as much time as she could get.

That time was now up, it seemed.

“Do you think I could get away with taking a walk?” she asked. “Or is he already in a rage?”

“I think he’s willing to let you stretch the rules a little,” Nico returned with a shrug, “you know, all things considered. Your father did get buried today. Who wouldn’t need a moment?”

A woman like her.

One who was unfeeling.

One that did not care.

Still, Aria took the chance she had, and ran with it. “I think I’ll say one more goodbye, then.”

Nico nodded. “I will be waiting at the gate for you.”