Katja shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with the lace on her boot as she considered his response. The notion of cowardice had burrowed deep within her, yet his words held a strange weight that made her pause. Still, she couldn’t shake her own harsh judgment. She’d made her choices, for better or worse. But Alistair… here he was, facing death with a grace that she couldn’t fathom.
“There’s not much to tell about me,” she said, her voice almost too quiet. It felt strange, almost forbidden, to share pieces of herself. She hadn’t spoken this freely in ages—it was as if she’d forgotten how to converse about anything outside of orders and silence.
She glanced up at him before dropping her gaze back to her boots. “I was… very sick once, and my father brought me to Evander. He saved my life. I owe him for that. So… I stay.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she steadied it. “He keeps me here as part of his work, as… payment.”
She swallowed, surprised by the vulnerability she’d let slip. But as she looked at him, she dared to ask, “And you? How did you end up here?” Her head tilted, watching for his reaction, wondering what had led a man like him into Evander’s clutches.
“There’s not much to tell about me,” she said, her voice almost too quiet. It felt strange, almost forbidden, to share pieces of herself. She hadn’t spoken this freely in ages—it was as if she’d forgotten how to converse about anything outside of orders and silence.
She glanced up at him before dropping her gaze back to her boots. “I was… very sick once, and my father brought me to Evander. He saved my life. I owe him for that. So… I stay.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she steadied it. “He keeps me here as part of his work, as… payment.”
She swallowed, surprised by the vulnerability she’d let slip. But as she looked at him, she dared to ask, “And you? How did you end up here?” Her head tilted, watching for his reaction, wondering what had led a man like him into Evander’s clutches.