years you’ve worked together with a man called Scaramouche. Fighting, traveling and doing missions together. What you didn’t know was he was on a mission himself, a mission from the tsaritsa to get out information from you, and eventually end you once he had gotten everything he needed to know

Then the day came, the end. —

He pushed you down to the ground unexpectedly. Taking your sword from your grasp, then placing his foot on you chest, holding you firmly against the grass floor. Then he moved the blade down to you throat and narrowed his eyes.

no empathy, no feelings. He just galared down at you, then scoffed and furrowed his brows. The blade narrowing in distance from your throat “Really thought you could trust me? How pathetic.”