Cue Ball
He sits at the desk, muttering and scratching his pen against the paper. Mindfang watches him closely, listening to the creak of her wooden ship as it sways gently in the calm waters. His wings sparkle in the moonlights that shines through the window, and it makes her smile. She looks at the cue ball on the windowsill and her contentment quickly fades.
Mindfang removes her hat with her metal hand and stalks toward him, boots tip-tapping against the floor. "It's going to happen soon, y'know," she whispers roughly in his ear.
He shakes his head roughly, and she tilts her head to avoid being smacked in the face by a horn. "I thought we agreed we wouldn't talk about that story anymore."
"It's not a story, my dear," the Marquise says. "My cue ball is never wrong. No matter how much you pity me, I will still die by your hands."
He stands up and the chair pushes out with a screech. He meets her eyes and does not look away for a long time.
"I'm a lowblood," he tells her simply. "I'll die long before your time comes."
He walks up the ship's stairs and Mindfang does not follow. She is never sure if he is still flushed for her, and she does not ask. But the cue ball does not stray from the truth. The Summoner will kill her one day soon. She's not sure of much anymore more, but she knows that she doesn't want to die.
—-
Several lifetimes later, Vriska Serket holds Tavros Nitram's bloody corpse in her arms and pretends that tears are not streaming down her face.