Thorne turned around slowly, his muscles tensing as he prepared to face whoever had caught him sneaking out. His eyes landed on Rhea's massive frame, her figure barely illuminated by the dim light from the sconces lining the hallway. She stood at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed over her chest, looking down at him with an inscrutable expression.

"I was thinking of taking a stroll," Thorne said smoothly, arching an eyebrow. "Would you like to accompany me?"

Rhea stared at him for a long moment, her eyes boring into his as if trying to decipher his true intentions. The silence stretched between them, heavy and charged, until she finally relented with a curt nod. "Fine."

They descended the stairs together in silence, the tension between them thick as they passed through the nearly empty common room. Only a few drunken patrons remained, slumped over tables or mumbling incoherently to themselves. In a corner, the bard from earlier was scuffing down a bowl of stew, his face drawn and exhausted, the liveliness of his music long gone.

As they stepped outside, a cool breeze ruffled Thorne's hair, and he took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air. The streets of Valewind were still alive with activity, even at this late hour. The faint sounds of laughter and conversation floated through the air, mingling with the clatter of hooves on cobblestones and the distant hum of a city that never truly slept.

"Where are we going?" Rhea asked, her voice low as she walked beside him.

Thorne shrugged, keeping his tone casual. "I didn't have a particular place in mind. I just wanted to see the city."

Rhea grunted in response, but didn't press him further. They walked side by side through the winding streets, the city's beauty stark against the dark night. The people of Valewind were different from those in Alvar. Even at this late hour, they were dressed in beautiful clothes, their jewelry catching the light from the lanterns that lined the streets. Guards patrolled the area with practiced ease, their presence a constant reminder of the city's order and security.

As they turned a corner, they found themselves on a crowded street, full of lively taverns and restaurants. Despite the hour, the place was bustling with activity. People flowed in and out of the establishments as if it were midday, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Small vendors had set up stalls outside the taverns, offering light snacks, remedies for hangovers, and small trinkets to the late-night revelers.

"It's quite different from Alvar," Thorne observed, his eyes scanning the crowd. "The people don't seem afraid to go out. No thieves and cutthroats lurking in the shadows."

Rhea scoffed, her tone laced with irony. "You could say that, but let me remind you—we're the thieves and cutthroats in this city."

Thorne allowed a small, knowing smile to slip through his Mask of Deceit. "Indeed," he agreed, his voice soft.

As they walked, they passed by a small family—a father holding his sleeping toddler in his arms, sharing a relieved smile with his wife. Rhea's eyes lingered on the couple, her expression softening as she watched them. There was something wistful in her voice when she finally spoke. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we had grown up in a normal family?"

Thorne had wondered, more times than he would care to admit. But the harsh realities of the last few years had forced him to come to terms with his life. Memories of his family had faded into the past, becoming nothing more than fond recollections. He shrugged, keeping his tone light. "Of course," he responded. "But I've come to realize that there's no point in dwelling on things I can't change."

His eyes trailed after a small child, his face smudged with dirt as he weaved through the throng of people. Rhea scoffed beside him, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Of course, you would think that way. Always the cold little soldier."

Thorne turned to face her, one eyebrow lifted in curiosity. "You're angry with me," he stated, more than asked.

Rhea gritted her teeth, finally meeting his gaze. "Not with you exactly," she said, her voice strained, but Thorne could sense the lie. "At the guild."

Thorne resumed walking, his mind turning over her words as they found themselves in front of a vendor, a small grill propped up next to an expensive-looking winery. The vendor asked if Thorne wanted something to eat, and he nodded, his hand slipping into the pouch of coins he had found in his room. He turned to Rhea. "Do you want some?"

Rhea gave him an intense look, as if considering whether this was some elaborate plan to poison her. Then, with a slight shake of her head, she declined. Internally, Thorne sighed. How had they reached this point, where even old friends couldn't trust each other?

Thorne tossed a silver coin to the vendor, who accepted it with surprise and delight. He bit into the food, savoring the rich flavor as he walked on, speaking as if their conversation had never been interrupted. "Earlier, you were angry with me," he said over a mouthful of food. It was a calculated move, keeping the conversation going in a direction that might reveal more of Rhea's intentions.

Rhea trailed behind him, her eyes momentarily flicking back to the vendor, as if regretting her decision. "Yes," she finally admitted. "But again, it's not about you. You're not the center of everything, Thorne."

Thorne chewed thoughtfully, his mind split between Rhea's words and the dirty child that kept getting closer to them. "Do you know when the last time I went on a mission was?" Rhea asked, her voice neutral, but with a dark undercurrent that Thorne couldn't ignore.

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Thorne shook his head. "Two months, Thorne. For two months, I've been waiting for a chance to prove myself, to gain some experience and level up."

Thorne hid his surprise, his social skills keeping his face impassive. He could understand her frustration now. Every recruit went on missions at least twice a month. To be sidelined for so long must have been maddening for Rhea. "And when I finally get my chance," she continued, her voice thick with bitterness, "I get to play the nobody, someone who waits patiently in case things go south."

Thorne wanted to frown at her flawed logic, but he knew better than to react too quickly. Everyone had their part to play in this mission, but it was clear that Rhea felt undervalued.

"Sometimes I wish I could just see things the way Vance does," Rhea said quietly, almost as if she were confessing. "He makes it sound so simple. Survive. Eliminate the threats before they eliminate you. But it's never that simple, is it?"

He was about to respond when he felt a rustle in his cloak. His hand darted out instinctively, catching the small child who had finally made his move.

The child looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Thorne smirked. "Better luck next time, kid."

The child's eyes widened further in terror as he squirmed, trying to escape. "Thorne, don't cause a scene," Rhea whispered urgently, glancing around nervously as some of the passersby began to notice the commotion.

Thorne released the child, who bolted away immediately. But before the kid could get too far, Thorne called out and tossed a silver coin in his direction. The boy leaped and snatched the coin with ease before dashing into a side street. Thorne chuckled, shaking his head in fondness. Once, he had been that kid. Now, he was something else entirely.

"I'm surprised there are street rats here," Rhea commented with a condescending tone, her eyes now viewing the affluent city with a different perspective.

Thorne shrugged, his gaze following the child until he disappeared. "There are always orphans," he said, then turned back to their conversation. "I don't think you realize how crucial your role is in this mission."

Rhea scoffed at that, her frustration boiling over. "Yeah, right. Why do you think I was assigned the role of your bodyguard, Thorne? Why am I never assigned a proper mission? Why do you think?"

They exited the crowded street, the noise giving way to the quieter surroundings of a manicured park. Lanterns glowed softly among the blooming trees, casting a serene light over couples who strolled and talked quietly in the peaceful setting.

Thorne didn't respond to Rhea's questions, instead waiting for her to voice the answer she had already decided on. "Because they don't think I'm cut out to be an assassin!" she burst out, her voice filled with frustration. "I don't have the affinities for it, Thorne! The guild has no use for me! They just keep me around until I'm no longer useful, and then I'll end up in the catacombs, helping train the newest recruits."

Rhea was somewhat correct in her assessment. As their training had progressed, aiming to hone skills that would assist in their missions, it became clear that there were outliers among the recruits. Rhea was one of them, as was Devon, the recruit they had gone through the survival trial with in the catacombs. Both had unlocked skills that suited frontal assault, rather than stealth. Rhea's skills worked better with large weapons and heavy attacks, rather than the subtlety required of an assassin.

Thorne kept his true thoughts hidden, his Mask of Deceit skill keeping his face void of emotion.

"The guild doesn't only value those who have unlocked rogue skills," he said, his voice calm. "They utilize everyone, depending on their abilities. The guild has many agents, not just assassins, but spies, guards, and merchants—each with unique skills and abilities. For Uncle, they're just as valuable as a sharp dagger in the shadows."

It was a calculated lie, meant to test Rhea and perhaps plant some doubt in her mind. If she was planning something, it might make her hesitate. Every instinct in Thorne screamed that Rhea was planning to kill him. He didn't know if Corwin had pulled her into his scheme or if she was acting alone, but he couldn't afford to trust anyone blindly.

Rhea's face turned red with anger. "Don't patronize me, Thorne! I have no stealth skills to speak of! I seem to unlock a new defensive skill every other week! Even my Daggers skill is a measly level 3! I don't even have the Sword Mastery skill! I have Long Blades instead! And I can't use my other combat skills unless I use a greatsword!"

Thorne was shocked, but he kept walking, not missing a beat as he absorbed the information. Sharing such details about one's skills was taboo in the guild. It revealed too much—strengths and weaknesses that could be exploited. The fact that Rhea was sharing this with him suggested she was truly frustrated, but Thorne couldn't dismiss the possibility that she was playing him, feeding him false information to catch him off guard later.

His lack of response seemed to infuriate Rhea even more. "Damn it, Thorne! I just told you my deepest, most shameful secret, and you don't even react! I hate when you do that! Can't you show some compassion for your friends?"

Thorne stopped and turned to face her, his gaze cold. "All I hear is whining. You think the guild doesn't appreciate you? You think you're not as good as the rest of the recruits because you don't have certain skills?" He raised his hands, gesturing towards her imposing figure. "Look at you! You're a wall of muscle! You've doubled in size in a couple of months, thanks to your new skills, and you still complain. Everyone shivers at the thought of facing you in training. So, stop crying like a spoiled child."

Several emotions flickered across Rhea's face at his words, but finally, in a small voice, she said, "Vance agrees with me. He says that the first chance they get, the guild will kill me."

Thorne felt a sharp pang of betrayal, his heart sinking. Not Vance too, he thought. His friend, his first friend in the guild, involved in Rhea's schemes. Despair threatened to crack his carefully maintained facade, his true emotions pressing against the edges of his Mask of Deceit.

"I don't know what to tell you, Rhea," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "I don't think I can change your mind anymore."

With that, Thorne turned and walked away, leaving Rhea standing alone in the park.

His gamble had paid off. He had suspected that Rhea might be spying on him. Her sudden appearance at the stairs had confirmed it. She was watching him, just as he had been watching her.

He had needed information, to understand what was really going on, and tonight's conversation had provided just that. His suspicions had been proven correct—Rhea was harboring resentment, but more importantly, she was vulnerable, desperate even. And desperation made people dangerous.

He didn't want to believe that she was planning to kill him. But his gut told him otherwise. It was more than just frustration with her role, it was something darker, something that put him on edge. He couldn't understand how she came to this point, but Thorne knew instinctively that there was no return.

As he walked through the quieter streets of Valewind, Thorne reached into his cloak and pulled out the small piece of paper the orphan had slipped into his pocket earlier. He unfolded it carefully, his eyes narrowing as he recognized Sid's handwriting.

He is planning on killing you.

Thorne stifled a bitter laugh, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. If only Corwin was his only problem...

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