Illusions?

"Devon?"

"The land of darkness, lawlessness and dark secrets. The only place in Alvaron the king can't exert control on."

"But all lands under Alvaron belongs to the king. What do you mean?"

Confused, Amanise asked.

She watched his smile widened. Her danger sensing instincts tingled. She swore for a moment she saw half of his face was a twisted version of himself. Cruel, with worm holes as eyes. The gray eye terribly dark under the monocle. Before switching back to normal under the chandelier's light when she blinked.

A chill rose up her spine.

He stood up from his seat, his movements graceful. His head tipped slightly to the side.

"It's an illusion guised to the masses to make his authority seem unchallengeable. Fixated and unable to be overthrown. To destroy the essence of any rebellion or resistance."

"Hope?"

"No." His expression coy. "Desire."

Amanise froze. A memory arose in her thought. It was that of a black card. Stained with her blood and that of his.

A word was written there. The same of what Hamlin spoke of.

Desire.

"Desire...?" She muttered almost to herself.

"Hmm...Yes you don't agree?"

No she did. It made sense. But what didn't make sense was that it was the same word written on the black card. She never really thought of it until now. What did that mean?

She could never believe in coincidences. It doesn't exist every situation she found herself was a budding situation of different time periods compounding into one. That's what she had observed so far in her life. What her mother taught her. So what was this thought process budding into?

"What do you know about illusion, Grimshaw?"

He then moved. One moment his body was infront of her, the dinning table in between them. The next second however he was at the door behind her.

A servant bowed while opening it.

Stupified, her body remained motionless.

The speed. She couldn't track it. Gulping down her saliva she looked down on her skin watching goosebumps splaying on it.

Her senses tingled trying to process what it meant for her. He could simply move and kill her in a sec without her seeing the attack. In just a blink of an eye she could be gone and she wouldn't know how she died.

And hell she didn't like the idea of that!

She watched the illusion of her being stronger than before shatter into a thousand pieces.

Each shard of the shattered illusion dropped on her, piercing her skin.

She turned her back to look at him. Their gazes locked in. Hamlin was looking over his shoulder his gray eyes with a tint of faint amusement.

"The more you see, the less you understand."

Amanise gritted her teeth. Feeling her jaw clench, a bit concerned her teeth might break from the sheer force too. She was quick to take note of the threat laceyed beneath his polite tone.

Bastard.

"Let's go, Grimshaw. We can't have our guests to be kept waiting, can we?"

She picked up her dress and straightened her spine. Grateful she wore black gloves because she felt her wrists where she saw the strange, black ink tattoed into her skin, throbbing.

She made long bold strides that she could manage to the direction he went to. Ignoring the luxury surrounding her. Her guts told her that if she wanted to know how much this somewhat looking castle cost along with every luxurious looking thing in it. She would need to sit down to hear it. The manor was the largest she had seen in her life. It was six of Mistorn combined no kidding. Just for one man and a couple of servants.

Leaving the manor was an exercise alone. Her legs were already aching her. She felt she had burn down several calories while at it. It was little no wonder why she saw any one fat in it.

They had simply burn it down while walking!

A coachman opened the door for Hamlin. Bowing down as low as possible greeting him while shivering. She saw sheen of sweat on his skin from afar. Her vision was sharper than before. It was one of the perks of evolution. Testing it out she adjusted her sight enough to zoom in to see a bead of sweat slip into his clothes.

Hamlin looked at her.

She met his gaze with equal intensity. If he thought she would ever cower. He was in for a suprise. He only made her want to become stronger.

With so much power at her grasp.

Enough to hurl two bullets each to both legs and survive.

Vengeance or retribution was what she soughted for. Even though enough power might mean equal loss for her. She was ready to take the hit.

Anyway, what's the worst thing that could happen?

She entered the black majestic carriage which appeared to have crawled out from a nightmare. Unlike other carriages of the nobility. She noticed that it lacked an ensemble.

Brushing the question aside she looked forward, rolling her eyes. Wondering how much it costs. Nobles didn't spare any expense to show off their wealth and opulent lifestyles. Even while peasants suffered.

Hamlin followed after her. Sitting opposite her, besides the window.

The coachman sneezed, panicking as he muttered apologies before closing the door.

Moving towards his post. Few seconds later the horses neighed and galloped. Heading to Devon.

She shivered at the thought.

"Why was Madeline aggravated by my presence?"

The question escaped her lips even though she didn't intend to ask. Nevertheless it bothered her. To a certain degree she expected him to ignore her. But wonders never appeared to be ending any time soon. He replied like he expected the question from her since.

"Did she antagonize you?"

The temperature in the carriage dropped to a lower degree. She recalled the flurry coat she rejected from Madeline who persuaded to bring it along. Wishing she carried it for this very cold. But how could she?

The fur of the coat every single one of it was real. Which meant it according to Madeline was expensive, a lot of money enough to buy house, furnish it a bit then buy a horse! For a peasant. How could she be carrying that amount of money on her body?!

She wore the dress out of necessity. But that fur coat? Was pushing the limit of her hospitality.

How could she get herself indebted to the asshole besides her?

"No I felt it."

He didn't look at her. His hand dropped to his pocket of his trouser instead bringing out something thin that resembled a cigarette.

Raising the top of his fingers, he conjured a flicker of a flame to the tip of the rolled thin paper and lit up the cigarette.

She was once again aware that this wasn't Earth.