The favored Dishonored followed the commander out the door and down the empty hallway of the guard living quarters corridor towards a stairway even they weren't allowed to use. The commander unlocked the door and stepped through. The person on the right held the door long enough for the next person in line to grab it as the line snaked through.
"The Most Honored don't want the rest of the city to know that even the King uses Dishonored servants, so we get to go through parts of the city reserved for Guards," Antonio whispered as Casia grabbed the door.
The special stairwell was as bare and echoing as any of the other stairs in the complex.
The door slammed shut behind her, making her jump. A tiny little click told her the door had locked behind them. She was tempted to grab the door and double-check, but the line was moving forward, and Antonio was right next to her. She followed the line forward and resisted the urge to look back at the door. She needed to be perfectly compliant for the role she'd chosen.
The stairwell's exit was straight into the double-walled perimeter. The uniformed man standing at the door across the way yawned as he opened it for them. The area it opened to had three-story buildings, much shorter than many of the other residential buildings, and cute little flower gardens out front.
"Family living for the Honored City Guards. Most guards are born here, raised here, and spend their whole lives living here, but It's hard to get a home in this area if you aren't from it," Antonio whispered.
"Where do the ones who weren't born to guard parents live then?" Casia asked while watching for anyone to be upset at her for talking, but the few people out sweeping the bricks in front of their homes didn't seem to even care that they were passing by. She noticed those in front of her were also leaning close to whisper to each other.
"The Honored and Most Honored who choose to join the Guard but aren't guard stock either live in barracks or quarters like the Dishonored Guard rooms, or they live with their families in whatever quarter of the city they are from," Antonio's voice was slightly louder than a whisper, and still no one seemed to care. "You don't have to look like a rabbit about to be grabbed for dinner. Out here in these clothes, we are simply Undesirables being escorted through guard quarters to our work. Not worth the notice of Honored Guards."
She looked at him, and she could see the large smile curling his lips upwards in a grin. With the pink light highlighting his face, he looked younger. He might even be close to the same age as her. "We are free," he lifted his hands in the air as he spoke. "Is it what you've dreamed of since you started watching?"
She looked at his grinning face and the double line of Dishonored, which was now more of a disorganized blob walking and freely chatting. Then she looked back at him. His eyes were fixed on her, expecting a satisfactory answer. The joy in his face was too lovely for her to crush. She let out her breath and laughed. "I think I'm dreaming right now. Or maybe I'm going a little crazy. Is this real?"
"It is!" the smile on his face didn't change, letting Casia know she'd chosen a correct response. "Welcome to your new reality. I'd been hoping you would work your way here ever since I saw you report that girl who was bringing in outside food."
Which girl? Casia wondered. She'd reported a number of people over the years to earn favor with the guards. Food hoarding. "Oh, the girl I reported soon after I first arrived? The one that got me moved from excrement collection up to street sweeping?"
"Yes, It was so unusual to see a freshly Dishonored figure out the system so quickly. Most choose resentment and refuse to cooperate when their brands are fresh," he said.
He sounded as if he was never freshly Dishonored. Was he one born to the name? She shrugged. "I recognized that I must do whatever was necessary to survive the moment I saw my father's head separated from his shoulders. I have no desire to die in such an unsightly way."
His eyes focused on her as if he was trying to see into her. She would let him think he knew her, but what people saw was only what they wanted to see. She acted like his scrutiny made her a little uncomfortable as she looked away from his gaze and thought about how handsome he looked in an attempt to blush. She imagined him sweeping in for a kiss, and the telltale tingle of a blush graced her cheeks. Perfect.
"I would never want to see a beautiful head like yours separated from its shoulders. Stick with me, and I will keep you safe and happy," his fingers gently rand along her jaw, asking for her to look at him again.
She obliged and lowered her head just enough that she was looking up through her eyelashes as she blinked almost nervously a couple of times. She needed him to see her like a nervous cat. Patience and sweetness would bring her to him. "I - I've seen many a person trust too much."
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He laughed and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'm part of the group people are reported to. Just do as I tell you to, report everything you see and hear to me, and no one, not even the King of the City, can harm you. We take care of those loyal to us. But if you don't trust us yet, you don't have to. Simply do your job, tell me what you've seen or heard as long as you feel comfortable telling me about it, and I will prove to you the power that lies behind my words." He pulled his hand off her shoulder; his mouth and eyes lost their smile as they became straight and stern, "but if you straight up lie to me, I will know, and you will also learn of our power in a different way."
Casia felt a strong shiver run through her body. He was manipulating her emotions with his body language, and he was a master. The things this shadow man knew already told her she could never get away with telling this man a lie. The interesting thing to her was that he had given her permission to omit information. "I would be a fool who wants to die if I lied to the infamous shadow man, and I've told you I'm neither of those."
His smile returned, and he patted her just behind the shoulder. "Good, I just wanted to make sure that you understood clearly what working for me entailed."
The castle came into view, pulling Casia's attention towards its stone structure, so different from the rest of the City. She was finally going to walk through those massive doors again. She would see her beloved James again for the first time since her father's execution.
"When I was a boy working here under my mother, I used to see you arriving in a fancy carriage wearing one of those shimmery dresses the Most Honored wear," Antonio said, pulling her attention back.
If he'd been working in the castle under his mother, where was she now? She wouldn't push for information since it didn't fit her persona. "Silk, the dresses were made of silk. It's an easy fabric to make in a low amount of space, but the silkworms require careful management, and each cocoon produces only so much silk. Bamboo fabrics and other plant fabrics like hemp are much easier to produce quickly enough for the population in the city."
"You remember much for a girl Dishonored when she was what, thirteen?" he said as if he didn't know the answer.
She realized his choice not to say the fabric the nobles wore was precisely that, a choice. This was a line of questioning to test her memory and her willingness to tell him about herself since he probably already knew everything. "My father started me training for my future role as his heiress, the heiress to textile manufacturing in the City, when I was four. At ten, my engagement to the crown prince was announced. As such, I would of course know every fabric that a person could possibly be wearing."
"Ahh, yes. I remember when that engagement was announced and how it was annulled at your father's execution. Do you resent him?" he asked.
The way he casually said it made her feel like he'd been trying to lead her to mention the engagement. She needed to be careful in her wording here. "Resent? No. It was not him who planned treaso. That would be my father who planned treason against the very family he'd arranged to have his daughter married into."
"Did you know him well?" he asked, prying deeper.
"Yes, we had lessons together once the engagement was announced," she said, carefully keeping her words to the facts.
"Do you still love him?" Antonio's question caught her by surprise.
"I don -" Antonio put a finger over her lips to stop her answer.
"Please remember what I said about lying," he softly whispered.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she knew that he could tell. That he'd purposefully given her a soft sense of security with the easy questions."I'm sorry, I just, this place. How can I admit what lingers deep in my heart for a man I should hate?" The truth without actually saying it out loud.
His smile was almost sad, full of longing. "I know. It's why I stopped you before you said something that would destroy this relationship before it could begin. But I had to bring it up, because my hope is that the King still remembers you."
"Why would he remember me, a Dishonored?" she asked, letting a little resentment tinge her voice.
He laughed loud enough to make one of the people ahead of them in the file look back for half a second before returning to their conversation. "Because our newly crowned King has refused every engagement offer sent his way. He keeps to himself and chases servants out of his room. I haven't been able to get any ears close to him, but you my dear, you might just spark the embers in his heart."
"Is that why you've been so interested in me," Casia put a bitter bit to her words, letting him know she didn't appreciate people who weren't genuine.
"No," he ran a finger through her hair, "I want the beautiful Queen of Whispers on my side. I want you to use the skills you've developed and will hone under my tutelage to win over your previous fiance. Then you will come to me and whisper to me everything he does because you've chosen the shadows over the light."
"In short, you want to use my conflicted heart," Casia stated.
"I want to heal and free your heart. I want to teach you how to lift yourself to heights higher than even the Most Honored can reach," his quiet voice filled the air with the promise of glory and power.
But Casia knew where power was held. It was held within the stone walls of James's castle. If she were to play this delicate game, she would need to keep an open mind. Maybe Antonio did hold power through some secret organization that ruled behind the scenes. "I look forward to learning everything under your tutelage," she said as they approached the Castle gates.
He gave a little bow right before the gates, "Then I'll see you tonight."
They walked through the gates, a small courtyard, and then the massive doors into the dimly lit great hall, where pink light shone through a window at the end of the hall onto an empty throne. James's throne. She was here.