She was so perfectly imperfect. It's like flaw didn't exist when it came to her. From her looks always being in place, not a single hair moving wrong, down to her behavior. She was the born authority the fatui needed, not one person would guess the amount of training it took. Her personal pride.

It gave her the safety of keeping up the mask she had crafted for herself over the years, knowing no one would dare to try and challenge her otherwise. If they did, it never ended well on their side. She wasn't immune to comments from others, being a woman in a high position was a problem to some, no matter what the business was. But she knew better than to let them get to her, she didn't care. Too emotionless for it.

Perfection was a way she lived her life, she had been raised to be perfect. Mistakes weren't allowed, mishaps were punished. Being imperfect wasn't a choice, even after those years being over, it was her own way of keeping control. The control she so Desperately needed to function.

Mercy didn't exist if she didn't want it to. The ruins reminding of the orphanage she had grown up in, the stone flooring being the only thing fully intact, the floor where she had earned her title of the new knave five years ago. Blood was scattered everywhere, a scene that left her unfazed, it was a sign of her victory once again.

Accidents were still prone to happen, she could only control herself so far, but she had no choice against the nature's will. The wind had blown some of her hair into her face, making her move it out of her face with her free hand, the white hair having been stuck to her lips. Moving it made it smudge, not much, barely visible but she felt it almost immediately. Felt the sensation of her perfect appearance crack at it.

"Obviously one thing would need to go wrong.."