Kahliah forced herself to get up, feeling like a bear with a massively sore head. She sighed and reluctantly pulled the covers off herself as she forced her feet to hold her weight. What had she done last night? Did she perhaps dream the whole night, the nightmare turned dream? Did she really meet a man so horrid and a man so sweet or was it all just a lie, a falsehood? She put on a fastening corset and her normal, comfortable attire that did not feel tight enough to be a second skin. She preferred baggy outfits with a lot of room, outfits she could actually breathe happily and safely in without taking long, large puffs of breath whilst struggling to dance or even move sometimes. No, there was none of that, no falsehoods or façades, she did not feel as if she were part of a theatre, merely part of a world that she accepted and accepted her for who she was, did not see gender but instead saw life.

"Good morning, Kahliah" Alice said in a rather cheery voice as she put a bowl by Kahliah's bed, on her bedside cabinet and toast and jam on her bed. "How are we on this fine morning?"

"Go away" Kahliah ordered grumpily as she held her head. She looked outside and asked "what time is it?"

"About ten I think so come on, eat and you will feel better" Alice promised.

"That I doubt"

"James left you a list of errands on the table, mundane things, I saw but I am sure you will be fine"

"You mean I shall drop dead of boredom? Got it, I shall prepare myself then, prepare to drop dead... of boredom" Kahliah half-joked as she fastened her top.

"Are you going to collect the flour like that?" Alice asked out of shock.

"Yes, yes I am" Kahliah responded as she brushed her hair. She tied it back in a little neat bun and smiled at herself in the mirror. She felt comfortable, free and happy, not bored out her skull doing pointless tasks such as looking for a husband, someone to love. She did not want to find someone to love, she was not interested in finding love, she wanted freedom and to find freedom, to taste the cleanliness of freedom, of life and its beauty, that was a gift.

She picked up her father's list and smiled at its simplicity, his handwriting was perfect, a little hint of his French background judging by its style, just a simple list with nothing overly complicated on it, she was used to fetching lists, unable to keep servants, unable to trust them, they relied solely on lists and delivering them. It seemed easier than just struggling through, than hoping the servants would not read or overhear something they were not supposed to, something that would endanger either one of them, Kahliah or her father.

She walked outside with a small woven basket in her hand and a handful of cash in the other, enough to buy what was on the list, a lot of the things on the list. She walked into the flour shop, picking up a nice bag of flour, placing it on the counter as she grabbed a small box of eggs. She paid the nice, older gentleman and put the items in her basket before sticking her head in her father's list, not noticing what was going on around her. She bumped into someone, she could feel it. She removed her head from the list, looking up to see a familiar man.

"Mr Holton, what a nice surprise"

"Miss de Balon, it is good to see you" he commented, also with a small list in his hands.

"My apologies for bumping into you, I swear I must always have my nose stuck in a list" she joked as he moved, letting her out the shop.

"Me too, Miss de Balon, me too. It was good to see you again" he replied awkwardly, blushing slightly.

"You have said that already" she teased as she checked the eggs.

"Yes... I believe I have, my apologies, Miss de Balon, I am not used to speaking to a woman of such... such... status" he replied, almost stuttering, struggling as he looked into her eyes. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how she was the most beautiful creature his eyes had ever traced, how if he was not such a shy boy at heart, he would have accepted her invitation and danced with her all night but he was a frightened little boy, a coward and not fit to call such a lady beautiful, not even worth the spit on the ground by her boots. He was nothing compared to her, not worth even a single gem compared to those she must own... those that must have the luxury of sitting on her neck, her beauty enhancing their own. She was the moon and the stars, one of the brightest in the sky and he was not even in the sky, he was on the ground and in the dirt in comparison.

"Well goodbye" she replied gracefully.

"Miss de Balon, may I at least walk you home? There are some... dangerous characters out; I do not want you to get hurt"

"I still have some things to collect for my father, he has given me a rather long list but you are welcome to join me, if you want?" she replied politely. He quickly grabbed and paid for his goods before hurrying, joining her. Her face was so beautiful, delicate but he suspected she was not so delicate. Her face was like a fine woven lace, crocheted to perfection but her fiery nature suggested there was more to her than the eye could find.

"I would certainly like to join you, Miss de Balon. How are you finding England? Is it as you remembered?"

"Yes, mostly, my father has not changed, he still mourns my mother so but I can understand, she died so suddenly, without a warning"

"How may I ask was she taken from the world?" he asked.

"She was killed by... thieves, I believe they saw my mother collect her pearls from the jewellers and she fought back... they stabbed her, I believe, I do not know... thankfully I was not there" she lied through her teeth, a practiced lie, one she had gotten great at telling.

"I am sorry" he replied politely.

"Thank you. I wish I were more like her, she and my father... well let me just say that they were not always together, they were not always even friends. Apparently my father was a bit of a heartbreaker and my mother was a really strong woman, refused to marry him unless promises were kept. I suppose it was real love"

"I suppose so" he commented as he offered her his arm.

She took it as she asked "what of your family? What are they like?"

"My family are... nothing special, not really. My father's interests are mainly women and finance, my mother pretends otherwise while she mourns my brother, Marcus"

"Oh, I am so sorry, I never realised. Here I am going on about my own family loss and you have one, I am such an idiot"

"It is fine, he... he was my older brother, died when I was ten, my mother mourns his loss but it was merely a hunting accident that killed him, nothing more than that but it does not help when others see conspiracy and murder at every corner, as if the world is not already messed up" he answered politely, walking down the street with her close by.

They walked to the shops and picked up the rest of her items, she felt guilty, dragging him all the way around with her, as if he had nothing better to do other than talk to her all day about mundane things like the weather which she shockingly for once did not have a problem talking about. Normally she hated the dull conversations about the weather followed often by the idle gossip spewing from the mouths of the children of bored housewives, endless gossip about the latest parties and parades, all of it a façade designed to make other rich nobles believe they still had money to throw around while parading their daughters around to any wealthy gentleman who was not wearing a wedding ring.

They talked for what seemed like forever until she had to return home. Her father kept a watchful eye on her as she entered the house. "Well this is me" she stated as she hung around the doorway.

"Yes, so it is... Miss de Balon"

"Kahliah" she corrected him in as polite a tone as possible.

He smiled gently, the sun lighting the garden and illuminating his smile as he said "perhaps I shall see you again sometime... Miss de Balon"

She wanted to hit him at that point, twice he refused an invitation to call her by her name and make her feel like more than just some stupid teenager with obsession and flirtation on her mind. She was more than that, she just could not tell him or anyone from her past that, it all had to stay hidden; it all had to stay a secret for their own protection. She still put flowers on her mother's grave even though the story was a lie, most people were too scared or drunk to believe the story they were fed was nothing more than lies concocted to shield them all from the painful truth. Her mother had no parents left and a brother she barely spoke to so there was thankfully no frequent façades, masking of the truth.

She wanted to kill the hidden truth, the pain of losing her mother and becoming what she set out to become but how and who to? No one would believe her, no one should either. Why would anyone in their right mind want to hear the story of the woman who became a trained killer just to survive a war to the death her father attempted to shield her from? Not one woman... not a single one but her, she did it, she became an assassin to avenge her mother, vengeance lay in her heart, a seed planted, her mind and time that past spread it. What was she going to become once her mother's killer was finally killed? She did not know but she feared meeting it.

'What will you be once you have taken your revenge? What will you feel when there is no one left to kill? Perhaps you shall feel what all killers feel, the need to shed blood, to create enemies just to kill them, to feel their blood on your blade, their blood on your hands that can never wash away, that feeling, that rush when you take a life. Is that what you will feel, Kahliah? Will you enjoy your dance? Will you only be content when you have the power of life and death in your hands? If so, what is the difference between you and them?' she thought wildly, holding her head as she begged it to stop. It was not true, it could not be true... she was not going to kill, she could not kill... she was simple, sweet, not a monster, not at all.

She hid herself in her bedroom, shutting the door and hoping that one simple action would shut out the world. If only things were that simple, she would be safe and happy, not with a target on her head. She laid on her bed as her father knocked on the door; she knew it was him from his knock. "It is open" she stated as she put on a fake smile as he walked into her room.

"Kahliah, what is it? What is wrong?" he asked softly, more like a friend than a father.

"Nothing" she tried to lie, almost forgetting who she was speaking to. He sat on her bed and repeated the question, his voice still soft, smooth, no anger or frustration in it. She took a deep breath and whispered the question she was sure he would have an answer for. "How do you do it?"

"I assume you mean leaving a double life? An assassin and a father, an assassin and a banker, these things... lives, I did not choose them. It may shock you to understand but I did not choose any of it. I never chose to fall in love, I never chose to be an assassin and juggling the lives is hard work, sometimes people fall into the world, sometimes you fall out of it and sometimes... people like your mother get hurt in the crossfire between us and The Shadows. I miss your mother but when we became... serious, engaged, I told her the truth and I let her make up her mind and she chose to help me juggle both worlds until it was time to leave one world behind"

"Why did you not tell me when I was younger? Why did you not train me to know no other life?" she asked bitterly, cruelly.

"Because I loved you, enough to want you to make up your own mind, not have it twisted by my own experiences. Just look at me, I can kill, easily I can but it is all I really know. I never had a childhood, my childhood if you can call it one was learning how to shoot, how to fire a bow, the greatest places to hit someone, I did not have a chance to play chase, to climb trees for fun, instead of trees it was buildings, instead of getting a new set of toys, I got a set of knives and I never wanted that for you. I wanted you to be free, to have a childhood, to be able to play with dolls and climb trees, to wear dresses if you wanted or roll in the mud. I wanted you to have happy memories of me as a father, not me as an assassin while your uncle Robert trained you to be what you are learning now"

"But what if I had been? Mum would still be alive, she would not be... dead... dead and buried somewhere, a corpse just... rotting away. If I were trained to be like you, I could have helped you"

"Your mother loved you very, very much. She would not have wanted you to give up your life for her, she would have hated that"

"How do you know?" she asked rudely, her eyes glaring cruelly.

"Because I knew her well enough to know the answer to your question" he replied calmly. He was usually a patient man, a calm and gentle man who had his heart set on loving and taking care of his daughter, his only child and a blessing he did not expect, ever. He thought for sure that God would refuse him such a blessing, that he would never know Kahliah, never love a child of his own. The tragedy was the pain he had to put her through, losing Elizabeth, forcing her to train to become like him, a killer who could justify it by stating it was for God, to stop the corruption of the world. The world was dying in blood, there was always going to be someone to fight for evil, someone who wanted to deny the people freedom and there was nothing anyone could do about it, there was never going to be a change, nothing was ever going to stop, the fighting would never stop, just continue raging on without a warning.