He's Weak With Evil and Broken By The World

You're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan, designed and directed by his red right hand. [A Seymour Guado RP blog]

[fallenrequiem-blog]

Poisoned

[defeatsin-blog]

!

She lifted her eyes, her lips suddenly coming undone. “You… went there, as a child?” Her teeth latched onto her lip, and her fingers rose her to her chest. Of course… he was a summoner. It hardly seemed her place to ask… though, how he had failed. With an Aeon so powerful… well, it was no wonder he had made it to Zanarkand, if he’d had it by his side all this time, even as a child.  “Tell me,” she tilted her head, “was it.. ruined?”  A silly question. A hopeful question. Her fingers squirmed. 

“Hm? Oh..” she’d tried to think about… well, anything other than death, considering what had just happened… but. “Yes. You asked me, during Mi’ihen, if I was afraid.”  Nodding her head, she wormed up another smile - looking him straight in the eye. “But I am not scared, not anymore. I am ready.” Lowering her head, she found a small laugh rising from her throat. “But… I don’t think some of my guardians are.” 

[fallenrequiem-blog]

"Zanarkand has been in ruins for a thousand years, Lady Yuna, it has not changed much since then, I am sure."

He gave a small laugh, remembering when he had seen it for the first time. A testament to Sin's raw power and an age long lost. What had the world been like then? How many people had been killed thanks to this monster? And of course... That boy said he had been from there? It almost made sense, given his odd scent.

"But yes, I went to Zanarkand... With my mother..."

He gave a small sigh, shaking his head. He wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about that yet. With anyone. Even her.

Yet as he listened to her, he found the sheer resolve in her voice inspiring. The determination. Perhaps she truly was ready for such a sacrifice. She certainly sounded like it.

"There are not many people in the world who are ready for such a thing. To sacrifice not only yourself, but someone you... Love. There are very few in the world who can carry such a heavy burden."

He took a moment to think carefully about what he was going to say next. While he wasn't entirely ready to tell anyone about his mother... Sometimes, something had to be done, regardless of whether or not one felt ready.

Though despite that, he still couldn't bring himself to look at her as he spoke.

"As I said, when I was young, I went to Zanarkand with my mother. She was... Very ill. She had a plan, though... She would become my Final Aeon. Together we would strike Sin down. The people would love me. The people would realize that half-breeds were not... Something to be treated as disgusting, second class citizens. Perhaps it would even unite the people..."

He was trying to keep himself from shaking. The memory seemed so vivid to him. He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath. He had to remain in control, he could not show weakness. Slowly, he turned to look at her.

"I did not use her to defeat Sin. Obviously. I could not. A small, selfish boy, who only wanted his mother... Who did not care about the people of Spira... He could not defeat Sin. But I... Want to make up for my past mistakes."

He took her hand, albeit a little shakily, looking her dead in the eye.

"Lady Yuna. I have asked you before, but I have not explained why. This is why. I want to... Save Spira. From its despair. Bring joy to the people and end their suffering. Allow me to make up for my weaknesses as a child. To atone for my own sins."

While it was the truth, he did indeed want to end suffering, to bring a peace to Spira... If he told her the entirety of his plans, the whole truth... He could only imagine what disaster it would bring. 

[fallenrequiem-blog]

Poisoned

[defeatsin-blog]

“It’s… not rude,” she laughed a little, her body still shaking. She had to be strong, though. She had to shine while his eyes laid on her because if she didn’t she was so afraid the light in them would vanish. “It’s fine.” 

Drawing herself to her knees, she glanced over to him before looking down at the blankets before her. This was, mm. Well, this would be fine. She was sure he wouldn’t try to do anything, not after what just happened. Even if sitting in another man’s bed, alone, at night was just starting to ring alarm bells in her mind - she sighed and reminded herself to be strong. His compliments came out like a wave, and from him, she allowed the blossoming of a smile to curl across her face. “Thank you,” she nodded, “but, we can’t be sure. Not until morning.”

“So,” she twisted happiness out into her voice, her heart fluttering. Anything, anything to not think about how this happened. “How long, do you think it will be, until we reach Zanarkand?”   

[fallenrequiem-blog]

It was nice, having her so close. All to himself. Yet it also made him nervous. What was common convention in a situation like this? Was he supposed to touch her? Keep his distance? All the preparation in his role of Maester, Leader of the Guado, that cool, calm and collected facade could never prepare him for such close, innocent one on one contact. Though the last thing he would want is to let her in on how he felt at that moment.

Though when she mentioned Zanarkand, he felt at ease. Of course, he could sense she was uneasy, still worried about the poison. It made sense, even he was unsure of the full implications of such a strange toxin.

"I do not believe it shall be too much longer. I have been there before, in my youth..." He trailed off, frowning. Zanarkand brought so many mixed feelings to him. Of course it was where his dream would be realized, but then... It was where he had not only lost his mother, but failed her. The thought of being there again was enough to turn his stomach.

What if his failures were relived?

Or even... What if his dream failed? What if she were to choose another of her Guardians for the Final Aeon, wanting to spare him? The boy seemed a likely candidate.

His silence had gone on too long, his gaze somewhere off in the distance, and he realized it was obvious a thought was troubling him. He shook it off and turned to watch her, smiling his cool smile, before speaking.

"Have you... Thought about it, Lady Yuna? About Zanarkand, and all it entails?" It wasn't the most subtle way, but then, there was no subtle way to ask which of your dearest companions you would sacrifice along with yourself.

[fallenrequiem-blog]

Poisoned

[defeatsin-blog]

Everything he said was true. 

She struggled, her heart twisted up and pulled tight against her chest. Her breath came out in rattles, her teeth dug right into her lips. All the stars in the world could be ripped from the heavens, if only she could rip the ones out from her eyes - she covered her face, the remnants of a cure spell spilling over her. Even it’s soothing heat brought nothing to her, and though she wasn’t crying - she certainly felt like it.  Her nails undug from her forehead, and she looked the man before her straight in the eye. “How he feels towards me, and towards us, has nothing to do with this.” She stumbled over an angry expression, digging up something between desperation and rage. “I… I’ve noticed it, for a long time. But I can’t do anything about it, Seymour. Don’t you think he’s tried wishing that feeling away? It’s… a wonderful feeling, and it… it hurts, too. But it can’t just be wished away.”  Trembling, she found better words, “He knows… as much as you do, what I must do. Making you… sick, wouldn’t do anything to change that!” 

She shook her head, “Why… why would any of my guardians want this?” She licked her dry lips, her throat begging for water - and yet, despite her bare shoulders, her skin didn’t feel cold. She felt like she was on fire. Sighing, she let her fingers rest on the blankets she had dropped on the floor. Dipping her head, she adjusted her knees, sliding her thighs by her side. This still felt like a dream. Intangible. Almost.  “I’m sorry.” Her heart thudded.  “I’m sorry I can’t do more, I wish… I wish I could,” her eyes flared, looking back to him. “We’ll stay here, for as long as we can. I’ll heal you. You won’t die, not here.” “I won’t let you die here.” Trying to find anything good in this situation, she found something to lighten the mood. “But you have to promise, alright?” It was childish, but, leaning forwards, she found the best smile she could, a hand (with the slightest hesitation) folding over his own.  “You have to promise you’ll be alright.” 

[fallenrequiem-blog]

The way she defended the boy only served to irritate him more. It wasn't so much the way he looked at her that bothered him, but that she would return his looks. She was obviously as smitten with him as he was with her. And what bothered him the most was that he never received those looks.

She would never look at him in that way. She only looked at him with a sort of respect, admiration, but never attraction. At least, not that he saw. He gave a small sigh. She would never love him as she loved the boy, that much was clear. He found it odd that he was so bothered by it, though. His plan was to become Sin, never to fall in love with Yuna.

And yet... He found himself admiring her. He found himself staring at her in the same way the blonde boy did, as though he were a teenager as well, controlled by emotion. The strangest thing of all was that it didn't bother him, he even found himself enjoying stealing looks.

And he supposed that was why he was so angry that she stood up for him. He was about to speak, point out that she looked at him the same way, that perhaps this was all some sort of plot for them to run away together, as foolish as that was, but he was in the heat of the moment and his mind was still foggy with poison.

But then she apologized.

He was confused at first, watching her silently, moving to sit more comfortably now he had the strength.

Her words were so kind. She was so... Intent on saving him. Was it just because he was a Maester? Or did she care about him, too? He cleared his throat, caught off guard by her sudden kindness and her question.

It was... Adorable. Which he found odd. He normally wouldn't use that word for anything. And yet...

He gave a small smile, patting the empty space on the bed beside him. "Come, Lady Yuna, sit with me. You have been standing this entire time and I have not yet offered you a seat. How rude of me."

"And as for your promise... I... Am sure I will be alright. And I have you to thank for that. Truly you are a wonderful healer. Your talents are much appreciated... And I thank you."

[fallenrequiem-blog]

Poisoned

[defeatsin-blog]

His thanks began to unwind a knot that had formed deep in her stomach. The anger that had splayed over his face had been… unusual, something that… in the past, she would have expected - but not now. He had always been the mirror of calmness, and even on their wedding day, he had seemed… restrained, even nervous, if she had been honest. 

It was a Seymour she had grown to like, and even though his burst of emotion was in the heat of desperation - she could not help but feel her view had… well, crumbled a little.  Still, that was not important. What was important was that he was breathing. She had had seen him cut open a thousand times already, the Calm Lands as vicious as their name completely did not imply. She had seen the ground soaked with his blood. Seen his bones twisted and mangled and curved in on themselves. Birds had ripped his blue eyes from his skull and she had been the one to tie them back into place - she had been the one to straighten his bones, to restitch his flesh.  Yet that had become so normal… this, this wasn’t normal. This shaking, this groaning, this dying body - strengthened by his accusation… well, this was beyond the mindless malice of a fiend.  This struck hummingbirds in her head.  And they drummed so loudly, so, so loudly. As soon as she was sure that he was going to be alright for now, her fingers tangled in her hair. Her head lowered, her eyes widened, her mouth choked gasplessly.  Poison? This was really poison? He was a Maester, whatever had her Guardians been thinking - who… who would, “Seymour,” who would have done this? No, no, she “They wouldn’t, they couldn’t have…” they knew he was her husband, they knew that she was happy enough with this - surely, surely, he wouldn’t have?  She knew he had grown ever more discontent with Seymour’s presence. She knew, even though she had been grateful at the time, that whenever he interrupted them with a smile that could split the world in two and a joke that made no sense whatsoever - that he was just making sure that any awkward half-talks that they shared would be broken before they could develop into something more.  Surely… he wouldn’t, do… this?

“I trust my guardians… all of them, and none of them would do this,” she reaffirmed, certainty striking itself into her voice. “Are you sure… you weren’t bitten by a fiend?” It seemed like a weak excuse, but it was a prayer.  Leaning forwards, everything inside of her felt as though it would tremble and rock and break apart - but instead she reached a hand forwards and pressed it decisively to his forehead. The strange bumps and crags of the veins atop his forehead made her back stiffen, but she closed her eyes and pulled on the mana that lurked deep within her. White and pink mingled, and the cura spell ran across his temple, her breath running away with it. 

[fallenrequiem-blog]

Of course she'd trust them. They had been with her since her journey began. And for the most part, Seymour had figured them out. Kimahri, he was probably the most loyal out of them. He couldn't have done it. He was protective of Yuna, and he sensed the Ronso didn't trust him, but it wasn't him. Wakka and Lulu were the same, trustworthy. He had his suspicions about Rikku, but then, she seemed the type to slit his throat, not poison him.

Which only left Auron and that... Blonde wretch. Both of them had motive, which made his life difficult. He knew Auron was an unsent, but no one else did. Though he had kept silent about it, as though there were a wordless agreement between them to not discuss it. But had Auron snapped? Was he afraid now that his secret may be revealed?

And the boy... Well, it was obvious something was amiss there. He had feelings for Yuna, and refused to accept Yuna's marriage. But there was something more. Something strange about the blonde Guardian. The longer Seymour was around him, the more he picked up on it. A scent. Almost human, but not quite. Almost unsent, but not quite that, either. He had never caught a scent quite like it in his lifetime. It even vaguely reminded him of the temples and of the Fayth. There was indeed something strange.

So absorbed in his thoughts, he didn't even realize Yuna had moved closer, placing her hand on his head. He winced when he realized, not used to contact from anyone, let alone her.

Of course she had laid her hands upon him before to cure his wounds, but that had always been in the battlefield with her Guardians. It was an entirely different situation. But this... The two of them, alone in his tent, it felt like a more intimate moment. And it brought back that somewhat nervous feeling in his gut. Between that and the poison, he was beginning to feel lightheaded.

Though the warmth of her magic made him feel at ease. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting it flow through him, warm him, ease his pain.

"Lady Yuna, I have felt the touch of fiends many times. I have experienced their poisons, and I can tell you, this is different. It is a man made poison. If it were natural, your spells would have cured me entirely. And yet, I still feel it. It still makes me..." He paused, tilting his head away from her, ashamed to even mutter the word in relation to himself. "Weak."

"One of your Guardians did this. There is no one else. They are the only ones... You cannot fool yourself, Lady Yuna."

He opened his eyes once more, meeting her gaze.

"One of them would wish me dead. Most of them I have come to trust, and yet... That boy... Have you not seen the way he looks at you? It is obvious he feels something toward you."

He would not bring up Auron. Not yet. He would wait to see what Yuna had to say about him before he spoke about Auron and his little 'secret'.

[fallenrequiem-blog]

Poisoned

[fallenrequiem-blog]

‘Your Grace’

Still so formal and yet she was supposed to be his wife. Though after all this time, it seemed that was in name only. He had kissed her once, at the wedding, but since then he had not touched her.

Were he to give a reason, he would have just said now was not the time. They had more important things to do, Sin was still a threat and there was no time for distractions of any sort.

Though the truth was far more embarrassing.

He didn’t know the first thing about having a wife. What he could and could no do. And even then, though he hated to admit it, part of him was too shy. The thought of touching her made him freeze. Yes, he’d managed it at the wedding, but that was a performance. Like most of his life, he was an actor, probably the best there was.

Though now he didn’t even have the strength to act. For the first time, he was completely vulnerable, and he couldn’t think of anything worse. He glared up at Yuna before giving a weak cough, doing his best not to let the poison overcome him completely. With what strength he had, he managed to move into a sitting position, leaning against a tent post. He would not simply lay down to die in front of her.

Though he couldn’t even keep up his glare, and the pain soon became evident. He only hoped she understood it as his physical pain, and not the emotional pain he felt from having her hurt him like this. He still couldn’t understand why.

It was like a curse, everyone he came to care about only seemed to hurt him in some way. Though it soon began to make sense to him. The boy. The blonde boy. She never wanted to be with him, she wanted to be with that… Boy. The thought filled him with rage once more, a quiet rage, but no less fearsome.

“So, you would kill me, and leave me to die out in the harsh wilds of Mount Gagazet? I would not have thought it to be in you, Lady Yuna… Or was it the idea of that… Boy you’re so intrigued by?”

He trailed off into a fit of coughs, clutching at his stomach. He managed to keep his voice calm, he would not give into his anger, and he would not give into the poison.

He would be an actor until the end. Even if said end was not the one he envisioned.

[defeatsin-blog]

A silence swallowed her.  Her eyes showed their whites, her mouth trembling. What… what was he talking about? She watched him struggle, watched him cough. He was sick, he was dying, he was accusing her of murdering him - what was going on? This… how could this have happened in the space of a few hours?  She held her ground.

She couldn’t panic, couldn’t call for help - this was something she would have to handle by herself.

“I don’t understand!” she felt fists baling by her side, his accusation stinging like a slap on on her cheeks. “What are you talking about? I…” Her eyes widened, her heart thundered in her chest. “Was it the food? Are you sick?” The fists unfurled, covering her mouth instead.   

Maybe he was just allergic, maybe it hadn’t been the food at all. Perhaps they would all come down with this sickness, and it just happened to affect Guado physiology a little quicker.

Guilt struck her when he accused Tidus. She said not a word in defence.  

When he wheezed, though, and coughed and crumbled before her - her fingers automatically fell down by his side, and as she kneeled by his bed and whispered out Esuna, she prayed it would do any good.  “Please. Stay still. I can only do so much, but this will help.” 

[fallenrequiem-blog]

Her reaction only served to puzzle him. She seemed genuinely shocked by this. Or she was a better actor than he had ever been. Though honestly, he doubted whether or not Yuna could do something like this. Even helping another. She was as timid as a mouse and her soul was the most pure he had ever encountered.

Which was bizarre, really. Everyone seemed to have some kind of darkness in their heart. Humans, Al Bhed, Ronso, Guado, regardless of race, everyone had that darkness. That selfish desire to further their own goals. And yet here she was, kneeling beside him, frantically whispering spells to cure him of a poison he was sure she inflicted on him.

Even her pilgrimage, Summoners were not always selfless in that, wanting statues erected in their honor or temples named after them. Yet Yuna was traveling and willing to sacrifice so much for the good of the people. For no one else. He was sure if someone mentioned statues, or even the smallest amount of praise, she would get flustered and shy away. It was... Oddly cute to him.

Thinking of this, he realized how wrong it was to accuse her. And yet he still remained cautious. It was better to trust no one. Easier. Though she didn't say a word to defend the blonde boy, which only roused suspicion in his mind. If he did it, she must have known. Before or after the fact.

As she chanted her magic, he could feel it weaving its way through her body. Though the poison was strong. He was feeling better, but by no means cured. His breathing had begun to even out, but he was still shaking.

He tried to calm himself through deep breaths, glancing at her curiously. If she had not found him... If she had chosen to stay with her friends instead of come to him...

"Thank you, Lady Yuna. I... Appreciate your help."

He paused, realizing how close she was. Almost enough to make him nervous. But he remained calm. He was well enough to slip into his usual self with ease, and he was glad he did not have to remain vulnerable in front of her for too long. That was the last thing he wanted.

"The food... I assume it was poisoned. By whom, I do not know. But it was someone in your party. I do not understand why, though..."

[fallenrequiem-blog]

Poisoned

Seymour hadn’t slept that night, heat had wracked the half-breed’s body, he had been shaking, too weak to send for help, but then, who would help him?

Lady Yuna and her Guardians had given him his own tent, claiming that because he was a Maester, he deserved privacy. But he knew it was because they didn’t trust him, and this only proved it. But why? They had no reason, he had made sure his father’s sphere had disappeared as soon as he heard of it, blaming it on ‘cheap carry bags’. He had minded his words. He had done nothing to earn this suspicion from them, and yet, here he was.

The only way it could have been was if… The food Yuna had brought to him. Did she know of this? She must have. Was it her idea? Probably not. But she had been a part of it, and that knowledge gave him more pain than the poison ever could.

His insides felt as though they were on fire. As though knives coated in the fiercest fire magics were slicing at his gut. Whenever he tried to move, he promptly collapsed. He was glad no one was around to see this. Morning was coming, and the party would surely move on, leaving him to die. Or perhaps they would stay to taunt him?

He could imagine the young boy, Tidus, standing over him, laughing that obnoxious laugh of his. Auron, the stoic warrior giving the sliest of smirks. Wakka making some crude remark. And Yuna… Yuna would simply watch in silence. If anyone would feel guilt, it would be her, surely. And yet, she had given him the poisoned meal.

He gave a small groan, closing his eyes. Why had it come to this? He was so close to his goal. He was sure they had just begun to trust him. Why here? Why now? Why… Her?

[defeatsin-blog]

There had been tensions within the group, and Yuna was finding it hard to sever them.  It was… a shame, that the presence of the Maester could cause such a sudden surge of uptight spines and jerky shoulders. She had… hoped, that given a little bit of time, that her guardians would learn to relax in his presence. Still, that was something even she tended to find difficult - no matter how many times his voice begged her to.  It was nights like these that she had begun to miss. Sharing a tent with her guardians, her friends, they had begun to laugh and spill out stories. Wakka had begun to act like his old self again, finally letting all the ‘ya’s’ and silly idioms slip right back across his tongue. How formal he’d tried to be recently! Kimarhi, too, seemed a little more talkative - as strange as that sounded - or at the very least, the tiny bits and pieces that he said were not aggressive in any way.  In the reborn warmth of her guardian’s spirits, even Tidus had begun to shine a little brighter. She’d watched him a little too intently, his blazing smile truly biting out the bitter cold, and his harsh laugh erasing the holes and poor stitching that lined the furry tent.  

Perhaps… well. Maybe that was why she felt so guilty. When the night drew sleepily over them, and as she was wrapped deep into her Behemoth fur blankets, she could not help but think of her husband. As the feelings of the day washed away, all the oranges and reds faded into darkening blues. She toyed with the ring that clasped her finger, wondering endlessly on what it would have been like… if… 

No!  She sat up, glancing across the tent filled with quiet bodies. Shaking her head, she refused to let this carry on. These tensions, these happy moments, these nights filled with laughter - it wasn’t fair that the other man, the man she was… meant to feel closest to, was excluded. It wasn’t fair that this ice had suddenly seethed up around them, it wasn’t fair that whenever he left it broke apart in all of their hands.  She was sick of the glances. She was sick of the mocking smiles. She was sick of her own doubts. She would do this without regrets. Lifting her blanket, she wrapped it around her arm - and delicately as she could, she hopped over Wakka’s hulking body. Trudging through the snow, she finally reached Seymour’s tent, trying her best not to shiver bitterly.  Assuming he was asleep, she had planned on laying the blanket over him, if only as a sign of peace - but peering in, she noticed that he was awake. “Ah, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, red crushing her face. “I… came to bring you this,” nodding towards the blanket, she added, “It’s… not much, but I thought you might be cold.”

“Tonight is… a bitter night,” she finally said. After all, what better small talk than on the weather? As she grew a little closer, however, her expression began to change.

Something was wrong. 

“Your Grace… Are you alright?” 

[fallenrequiem-blog]

'Your Grace'

Still so formal and yet she was supposed to be his wife. Though after all this time, it seemed that was in name only. He had kissed her once, at the wedding, but since then he had not touched her.

Were he to give a reason, he would have just said now was not the time. They had more important things to do, Sin was still a threat and there was no time for distractions of any sort.

Though the truth was far more embarrassing.

He didn't know the first thing about having a wife. What he could and could no do. And even then, though he hated to admit it, part of him was too shy. The thought of touching her made him freeze. Yes, he'd managed it at the wedding, but that was a performance. Like most of his life, he was an actor, probably the best there was.

Though now he didn't even have the strength to act. For the first time, he was completely vulnerable, and he couldn't think of anything worse. He glared up at Yuna before giving a weak cough, doing his best not to let the poison overcome him completely. With what strength he had, he managed to move into a sitting position, leaning against a tent post. He would not simply lay down to die in front of her.

Though he couldn't even keep up his glare, and the pain soon became evident. He only hoped she understood it as his physical pain, and not the emotional pain he felt from having her hurt him like this. He still couldn't understand why.

It was like a curse, everyone he came to care about only seemed to hurt him in some way. Though it soon began to make sense to him. The boy. The blonde boy. She never wanted to be with him, she wanted to be with that... Boy. The thought filled him with rage once more, a quiet rage, but no less fearsome.

"So, you would kill me, and leave me to die out in the harsh wilds of Mount Gagazet? I would not have thought it to be in you, Lady Yuna... Or was it the idea of that... Boy you're so intrigued by?"

He trailed off into a fit of coughs, clutching at his stomach. He managed to keep his voice calm, he would not give into his anger, and he would not give into the poison.

He would be an actor until the end. Even if said end was not the one he envisioned.

[fallenrequiem-blog]

Poisoned

Seymour hadn't slept that night, heat had wracked the half-breed's body, he had been shaking, too weak to send for help, but then, who would help him?

Lady Yuna and her Guardians had given him his own tent, claiming that because he was a Maester, he deserved privacy. But he knew it was because they didn't trust him, and this only proved it. But why? They had no reason, he had made sure his father's sphere had disappeared as soon as he heard of it, blaming it on 'cheap carry bags'. He had minded his words. He had done nothing to earn this suspicion from them, and yet, here he was.

The only way it could have been was if... The food Yuna had brought to him. Did she know of this? She must have. Was it her idea? Probably not. But she had been a part of it, and that knowledge gave him more pain than the poison ever could.

His insides felt as though they were on fire. As though knives coated in the fiercest fire magics were slicing at his gut. Whenever he tried to move, he promptly collapsed. He was glad no one was around to see this. Morning was coming, and the party would surely move on, leaving him to die. Or perhaps they would stay to taunt him?

He could imagine the young boy, Tidus, standing over him, laughing that obnoxious laugh of his. Auron, the stoic warrior giving the sliest of smirks. Wakka making some crude remark. And Yuna... Yuna would simply watch in silence. If anyone would feel guilt, it would be her, surely. And yet, she had given him the poisoned meal.

He gave a small groan, closing his eyes. Why had it come to this? He was so close to his goal. He was sure they had just begun to trust him. Why here? Why now? Why... Her?