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She’s surely got that lovesickness going for her.
I study the two men that accompany her. They’re not intimate with each other. From the facial features, regal and arrogant, but at the same time warm, I detect that they’re family. This is a son with his dad. The father keeps looking over to the unassuming son, watching him with pride. The girl… She’s not his daughter. While the men are distinctively Italian, their hushed whispers dipped in an accent and their hair dark with olive skin, the young woman is different. She could be anything, a chameleon of sorts.
Her heart aches.
I vowed not to listen in on strangers since I’m here on a job, but I can’t help it.
She’s hurting, and her pain is so sweet to consume, tiny cuts in my heart. She must have a crush somewhere, hiding from her love and affection. I can feel that she has a lot of that to give. Through all the pain, she’s got this light inside of her that she can’t wait to share with the world.
Fuck. I pinch myself.
I’m lucky the group of three is so full of themselves that they don’t even bother to look behind them. If they did, they’d notice my stalking.
Eventually, we’re allowed inside the palace after a security check.
I’m welcomed by the two-sided staircase that’s dripping in diamonds. I heard the staff clean this entire place from the chandeliers to the expensive floors for days before the celebrations began.
I lose sight of the group of three when the Princess of Katantia appears and everyone gathers around her, vying for her attention.
Staff escort me to my seat at a fancy table, and after the chaos at the entrance settles, I spot the group of three far away from me.
They looked too important to be seated in the back, but what can I say. On Katantia, looks can fool like everywhere else in the world.
I’m seated at a table next to the royals, in their shadow. I’ve asked for privacy in my vacation, and it seems they’ve listened to my requests. I sit close by but not close enough to be photographed by their media.
Weston and Kamila are a mess today, and I attempt to ignore them.
But the dam has broken.
That young girl with the sparkling gown is at fault. I have endless plates in front of me. I could feed my belly with Katantian delicacies. Instead, I decide to feed on what is going on at the royal table. The major absences fail to distract me. The king and his eldest son can do whatever they wish, stay absent for the entirety of their celebration.
I’m here to take whatever crumbs I can get from Kamila.
She’s not herself today. The vibrant woman that was once ready to take on the world has disappeared from her eyes, replaced by dried tears and dark circles under her eyes. Of course, she’s covered it all with make-up.
You can’t fool a bullshitter, though.
Time floats by while I sit in my chair, observing the royals. I don’t chat with whoever’s at my table. I understand that I’ve been placed with other rich bachelors that have come to Katantia to find convenient pussy. I have nothing to say to them.
I’m saving myself for a sweet girl back home.
Not really.
I have no girl back home… Although I truly wish I did. I want somebody to cherish, to dote on. I want a sweet girl that I can choke, spank and slap—consensually. I want her to blush a spellbinding red while I say the dirtiest things to her.
In all honesty, whatever I daydream of, it’ll most likely never happen.
I’m a busy man. This is… Let me count… My fiftieth secret assassination under my current employment? I don’t miss. I’m incredibly popular due to my charms. They don’t expect a handsome model-faced jock like me to secretly carry deadly poison around. I’m just too pretty!
Did I mention that I have a hate and love relationship with the actual killing process?
This year, I’m testing a more subtle method. I don’t use my guns or my hands anymore. I’ve got a syringe in my pocket, guised as diabetes medication. Instead of insulin, I’ve added dissolved aconite powder. One tiny injection, and you say hasta la vista, Katantia.
I’m waiting on my opportunity, but thus far, it’s looking quite dull.
Aram, Aris and his fake supermodel girlfriend strutted inside a while ago, but nothing of substance has happened. The music is horrible. The guests are stuck-up. I refuse to drink because I’m on the job. Thus, I’m being grumpy and unreliable in a social setting.
Kamila’s suffering numbs me enough to avoid the men’s state of minds, but today of all days, Aris is peaking through my walls.
