‘This path. It will do.’ He hesitated, then said, ‘Cotillion. This notion of…balance. Something has occurred to me—’ Cotillion’s eyes silenced him, shocked him with their unveiling of sorrow…of remorse. The patron of assassins nodded. ‘From her…to you. Aye.’ ‘Did she see that, do you think?’ ‘All too clearly, I’m afraid.’ Cutter stared out the window. ‘I loved her, you know. I still do.’ ‘So you do not wonder why she has left.’ He shook his head, unable to fight back the tears any more. ‘No, Cotillion,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t.’
