Unrespected Profession
@greenleavesblueflames
Why he insisted on meeting in his chambers, Lilyann didn’t know. Perhaps it was the privacy, the slim risk of someone overhearing him share the names and crimes of those she’d be executing later that week--not that it was a secret who was on the “chopping block,” but the fact that she was the one dealing their punishments was something she wanted kept quiet.
Lucio didn’t understand why at first. “The people love it,” he had said. “Why wouldn’t you want their love and praise?” “Wouldn’t it be more fun if it was a mystery? The secret executioner, the enigmatic dealer of death?” was her suggestion--she figured he’d appreciate for the more dramatic angle, and she’d been right. Lilyann took no issue manipulating his love of the melodramatic to keep her identity safe.
She sat in one of his ostentatious chairs across from him, holding her cup out for him to refill it with wine she knew probably cost more than she’d spent on her house. This was the routine. Show up, be taken to his room, drink his expensive wine, and go over who she’d be killing.
“Amian Sara,” Lucio said, “convicted of murder. He was in the old count’s army, so he’ll know his way around a sword. Dora Hawkins, convicted of human trafficking. She’d been a pirate before, so... you know, another fighter.”
On he went, and she wrote down each name and any information he had on them. He didn’t mind giving her an advantage since he knew she needed to win; otherwise, he’d be out his harvester.
Once he finished, she rolled the parchment and tucked it into her bag before hastily moving to the door.
“You always rush out,” he whined. “Why don’t you stay and keep me company this time?”
“Because I need to not spend the week vomiting before the fight,” Lilyann said, already stepping out into the hallway.
