“A reputation is all a cat’s truly got. Don’t you think so?” She smiled. “A reputation alone can instill respect or send cats scurrying away in fear. Cats judge you before you even utter a word. It’s the cornerstone of power in the world – it does half the work for me, as a prison guard.” All you needed to do was set a few examples in those first few shifts, and cats fell in line quickly enough.

“Besides, mine is already ruined,” Elizabeth lamented, though her smirk suggested she wasn’t too broken up about it. “The captives don’t like me much, I’m afraid. They see me as a hellcat. And the guards… well they think much the same.” She'd already cemented her reputation. She wasn't concerned about what they thought of her now – it had just been a mild observation.

Her expression was devilish as her long grey tail laced around her legs like a cobra. “Ever considered what you being seen with me might do to your reputation? A sunset patrol, alone, with a cat like me? What will people say?”

Elizabeth laughed at that. “I’ll make sure to keep my distance then.” No icy undercurrents flowed under those words. Her tone was purely amused. Perhaps it was the most harmless she’d been in this conversation; she suddenly realized she liked Hywel. His demeanor should’ve been bordering on contemptable to her; and when she’d first seen him, it had. But he had a wit that she hadn’t expected and rarely enjoyed in this league. He was as pretty as the little bird that started this whole affair. Perhaps there's a twisted heart in this black chest yet... she thought salaciously.

Whatever care she had for what others thought of her was purely tactical. Unlike Hywel, she didn’t enjoy making things more difficult for herself. If she could get a cat to yield without lifting a paw, that’s what she would do. Elizabeth didn’t believe in the sensibilities of knights; ‘honor,’ ‘chivalry,’ ’ or ‘fighting the good fight.’ She was a practical cat.

“Alright, let’s get a move on then. Show me all your favorite loitering spots.” With that, Elizabeth was off again, her stygian-tipped tail flowing behind her as she traversed down the boxes.

“You,” was all she said at first, looking him up and down with an unreadable blue gaze.

She’d been indulging in a mouse as he’d approached, though she’d made no effort to greet him after his foreign scent had bathed her tongue, mixed with the rich taste of warm blood running down her throat. When she raised her muzzle, the light grey was stained with red, like it had been the first time they’d spoken, a few moons past.

“So, is it Hywel, today? Or something different? I hear you have a knack for theatre.”

It didn't take much to hear the thinly veiled petulance in her voice. If truth be told, she felt a little betrayed by him. No, not betrayed, that was entirely too intimate — fooled. The sort of sting that carried a hint of admiration at the effort. Yes, that was the feeling that crept through the bands of her muscles, flexed through her claws. She didn’t like being made a fool; it was like the chess pieces had changed without her permission, like there was a big story that she was on the outs of, just a step behind. Was she speaking with a perfect stranger?

Her mood was as black as night, and his appearance did little to extinguish it. She was feeling wired and primal. “Should I be concerned?” She drew a pink tongue over the stains on her muzzle, like she’d just remembered to make herself presentable to company, but the slow, decisive way she did it — all the while pinning him with her blue gaze — made it look more threatening than a show of etiquette.

“I am an Assassin now after all,” she bared her teeth in a smirk, red over white. “A super-soldier sounds like a security risk.”

“Still playing the part, hmm?” She jumped to her paws, leaving her half-eaten meal behind to circle around him. “You pretend to be a helpless fool, but I’ve heard differently Hywel.”

She stopped in front of him, the red still smeared on her maw, her paws figuratively on her hips, her blue stare accusing. The smallest smirk broke on her features, and for a moment it wasn’t clear how serious she was being, but her tone was still sharp as she pressed: “do you need an activation code to switch on? Or do you react by instinct?” She raised an unsheathed paw, posed as if she was about to attack him.

She relished the expression on Hywel’s face at in that moment – a second – an inch – on the edge of her attack, in that moment of highest uncertainty. Where the balance of choice was firmly in her paws, where she held all the control on what would happen next. She craved to see how he would react – you find out the most about someone when they’re in danger, after all. Would he harm her? Show off that superior training he allegedly had? There was only one way to find out…

...

And then Elizabeth laughed. Nothing hysterical or crazy, just a light giggle, which might as well have been a sigh as all the tension of the moment was released. “You bastard.” She smiled, her blue eyes surprisingly self-possessed amongst all the mania of her behavior. “You really bought it, didn’t you?” The belief was the whole point; once you became too predictable, all the power was gone. Familiarity breeds contempt, as they say.

“But in all seriousness…” she sat back on her haunches and began cleaning the blood from her maw. “I met your sister. Lovely gal. A lot to say about you.”

If there was any hesitation in her response, it was only because she’d never seen Hywel like this before. The glib carefree tom was trying his hand at manipulation – the realization made her chuckle. “Your sister…” she started, her gaze strange and knowing – “doesn’t strike me as a liar.”

That night she’d spent with Rhiannon had certainly left a mark. Elizabeth had felt unsure and vulnerable for the first time in forever. They’d only walked around league territory, but she felt like she’d entered a world she couldn’t discern from reality. The other she-cat was a real player in this world, with a mysterious ambition you couldn’t help but believe in. Perhaps it was simply her ego speaking, but Rhiannon reminded her of herself.

“What’s the big deal, Hywel? I thought we were ‘friends,’” – she said the word with a weird emphasis, as if trying it out for the first time – “and all that. Don’t trust me with your history and secrets?” She had finished cleaning her maw, and now she was just looking at him, her dainty paws placed neatly in front of her. “I’m only curious. You should be flattered by that, you know. I’m rarely curious about other cats.”

Elizabeth found the whole thing entertaining – bouncing between the two siblings, suggesting she’d been gossiping behind the backs of the other. They were certainly a handsome pair, fair to look at, and their little faraway world intrigued her, especially compared to the mundane roots of her own heritage. A whisper of a smirk graced her visage, observing him through slitted eyes that glinted with ominous humor. “Perhaps I should refer you to Regulus, the next time he’s seeking to raise up an assassin. Your sister told me you were raised to kill, and you got quite good at it. Once upon a time ago,” she jingled the last words, her voice drifting off into a little giggle.

Elizabeth’s smirk faltered as she read his expression, a small spike of guilt reprimanding her. It was deflating to tell a joke when the other didn’t see the humor in it. She’d thought a super-solider hiding in the pelt of a lazy, ordinary cat was quite amusing – clearly there was more to this story than what she’d heard from Rhiannon.

“Well, I’m not a cold heartless murderer either,” she responded in a cooler tone, bordering on defensive. She was an assassin, sure, and her claws were made for killin’, but she wouldn’t abide by that label. “I just thought the truth would lend you some street cred,” she flashed a shadow of a smile, but it went as quickly as it came. Elizabeth stretched out regally, keeping her gaze steadily on her friend and reading his reactions.

[ hehe i thought you might like that ]

A wry smile graced her visage at his words. “So, you’ve hung up your sword to live out the rest of your days in quiet and peace? Only… you came to the city of sin of all places. Surely there was a tranquil countryside or two between here and the Loch?” Amusement laced her voice as her brow arched in bemusement. Then she suddenly remembered his story. “Or was it your sister that brought you here? That one… I think she’s going to get you into some trouble one of these days.”

Elizabeth’s face was creased with sardonic smile, but it soon withered into something darker – not a sad smile, but rueful one. There was something very tragic about Hywel. And as much as she wanted to turn away, apathetic to it, the image was rather arresting. It was like a pretty little bird singing the saddest tune.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think it makes you more cool. Marginally.”