(A/N: Violence and language trigger warning. Please know that this story is a very high Teen rating, so keep that in mind while reading this story.)

They come in

I yawn as the men approach me, an arrogant little smirk on my lips. I take my drink and sip it gingerly. As much as I'd love to have some ale, I settle for coffee. Have to stay sober in the midst of the idiots and those trying to kill me. Besides, Captain doesn't like us coming home tripping over our own feet.

They stand in front of me, their snarls never wavering. I blink boredly at them, patting myself on the back at how nonchalant I look. With my feet propped up on the table, showing off my brand new black boots, I look the epitome of everything Captain wants me to: calm, decisive, arrogantly beautiful. "Can I help you?" I ask, though I know exactly why they're here.

They sit down in the extra chairs with a thud, and I snort. "Please, by all means, sit."

"We know who you are," one man says.

I roll my eyes. "Doesn't everyone? After all, my face is plastered all over His Majesty's country."

The men look annoyedly at each other, one setting his jaw, the other bringing his fist down on the table. "Not yet. But it will be, and don't think someone won't turn you in because they need that money."

"So you admit your country is a disgusting cesspool that doesn't pay enough for your people to support themselves?"

"Don't play games with me," he growls.

I purse my lips, bringing my feet down to the floor. "Now, now. That's no way to act in public. You should know your manners now, shouldn't you, John? After all, you did have eight tutors when you were a boy."

His eyes widen. "How did you know—?"

"It's simple really," I answer, taking another sip of my drink. I reach next to me and grab a yellow file, flipping it open. "John Beaumont, 43. Your parents were Reginald and Teresa Beaumont. You come from a family of merchants, very wealthy ones at that. You had three brothers, one sister. Shall I go on?" He doesn't answer.

I reach for the other file next to me and start reading from it. "Anthony Tremaine, 25. Comes from a poor family. Had one brother, but he died as a young teenager. You were in prison for three years. You now have a wife and a daughter." I look up at the other man, who now stares at me with disgust.

"Bitch," he spats.

I laugh, shaking my head. "That is the first right thing you've said all day." I sigh, sitting up the way I was taught—back straight, head held high. I never thought I'd need it, but it does help intimidate. "Now, boys, I would not suggest underestimating me. I have more blood on my hands than you could possibly imagine a little girl having." I say this like it's not a big deal, but the memory is still heavy on my heart.

"That doesn't seem like something to be very proud about," Anthony says, a mocking tone in his voice.

"Oh, I'm not. That's one thing you'll understand later in life, Anthony." Sighing, I stare both the men down, not daring to move my eyes away from theirs, something I learned long ago. If I'm perfectly honest, it's how I get what I want. "What are you doing here?" I ask, letting my annoyance soak into my voice.

"We want you," John answers, narrowing his dark eyes. "And we're going to get you."

I smirk, leaning forward. "Ah, but you don't want to do that. I am giving you both to the count of three to get out of this tavern. Leave, and you'll live. Stay, and I swear to God I'll kill you. One."

John and Anthony look at each other nervously.

"Two."

Anthony starts backing away, but John grabs his arm, forcing him to stay.

"Three."

John crumples to the ground, a dagger lodged in his chest. Anthony's eyes widen, and he lets out a gasp, jumping back. He looks toward me, his eyes pleading.

With one yank, I pull my dagger out of John's chest, lightly tracing my fingers over the blade. Anthony stares at me, dumbstruck, as if he thought I wasn't capable of killing someone. Say that eight years ago, and I might've agreed.

"I know many things, Anthony. I've done many things I'm not proud of." I take a step toward him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him toward me until our noses nearly brush. "But don't think for one damn second that I am above murder. I'm not. I may look like a helpless little girl, but if you or anyone lays a finger on me, sends me a threatening note, or does so much as spread a rumor that someone is trying to kill me, you will be sorry." I shove him to the ground. "Go." I needn't say another word. He scurries away, running for dear life.

I look down at the body that lies at my feet, his eyes still wide open as blood trails onto the floor. He's still alive. I know he is. "I know what you did, John. View this as revenge for the children you burned at that house in Orléans." In one smooth movement, I bring my heel down on his face.

I exit the tavern, leaving John's body for the owner or a poor barmaid to discover. It's funny. I should feel ashamed that I killed someone. I should regret it and beg God to forgive me. But, honestly, I'm already going to Hell, so I might as well do it thoroughly.

There are certain

When you're asleep.

When you're alone.

I avoid both as much as possible. In fact, I only sleep once or twice a week. I used to treasure it. I used to sleep as much as I could. But now, after everything that's happened, I just can't do it anymore. Dreams haunt me, their faces haunt me, even to this day. Knowing that I'm responsible for their deaths is too much of a toll on my conscience.

And then it's about the same when I'm alone. I avoid it as much as possible. I spend most of my time with other people or busying myself with missions that Captain gives me, but sometimes it's not enough. Those are the days when I sneak the ale into my room and drink until I forget what I did, who I've become.

I push these thoughts away when I reach Captain's door and start debating whether or not I want to enter. He really doesn't like to be bothered, but I end up knocking anyway. "Come in," he says calmly, though I can hear the annoyance in his voice.

I open the door and enter the office. He sits there, nose-deep in paperwork, not even acknowledging my presence. "Sir?" He looks up then, and I'm suddenly struck with that painful remembrance.

He looks just like him.

He looks just like James.

They are brothers, after all. I shouldn't be so surprised. Andrew Baudin has his hair, his nose, his height, his overwhelmingly good looks. It's all the same, and that's one reason I often avoid coming here. It's too hard to see him in another person, a person that's not and will never be him.

"Yes, Corinne?"

"I… the men are taken care of," I say, looking at the floor awkwardly.

"Are they both dead?" he asks.

I sigh. "No, I left one."

His nostrils flare. "What? Why?"

"He had a wife and child, Andrew. I couldn't kill him. I've done terrible things, but I still have a conscience. I know what it's like to grow up without a father, and I wasn't going to be the one who takes him away from that little girl." My voice is so intense, so passionate that he admits defeat by letting out a sigh.

"Fine, you win, as always." He looks back down at his paperwork, and I take that as my cue to leave.

I turn away from him, but suddenly stop, remembering something I've been wanting to ask him. "Andrew, uh… I was wondering if I could possibly… take a short vacation?"

He looks up, raising an eyebrow. "A vacation? You haven't asked for anything the entire time you've been here, and you're asking for a vacation?"

I bite my lip and nod. "Well, you see, it's my birthday in a few weeks, and I'd like to go back to France just for a little while."

He shakes his head. "No, not possible. You are wanted by the King of England, Corinne. If anyone sees you—"

"They won't, Andrew. They won't, I promise. I'll be careful. I—"

"My answer is final."

I snarl, turning away. There was a time where I would've fought this tooth and nail, but when Andrew decides something, it's best just to leave it be for awhile. He'll come around eventually. I exit the office and wrap my arms around myself. Yeah, Andrew'll come around eventually, but who knows how long eventually will be?

He doesn't understand what I'm wanting. He thinks I'm just tired. He thinks I just want time off. That's part of it, I'll admit, but that's not what this is really about. I vanished without a trace when I left Paris. I was just gone. I just hope everyone could figure out what happened. I couldn't bear it if I found out they thought I was dead again.

Sighing, I focus on what's ahead in front of me. The institute is large, based in a secret cave on the Western coast of Scotland. In its entire decade-old existence, it has never been found by any enemies, so they say. It's supposed to be the most secure place in the entire country, but perhaps it's too secure. A little adventure wouldn't hurt every now and then. Of course, this is coming from the girl who defended her country from a threat every other week. This should feel like a breath of fresh air, but… it's not. It's anything but.

I had to leave. I had to. There was no choice. But that doesn't mean I had wanted to. No, I had wanted to stay so badly. I had wanted to sob and have Renée tell me to be strong. I had wanted to feel Aramina's reassuring touch. I had wanted to hear Viveca's soft voice again. And I had wanted to feel Louis's arms around me, whispering his apologies over and over again.

I had wanted to stay.

I had wanted to stay so badly.

But I couldn't. I had to cope alone. I had to keep them safe. Safe from me.

"CORINNE!"

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when my name is screamed, and I'm suddenly knocked to the ground. I gasp, hitting the floor with a thud. Sitting up, I rub my head, groaning. An innocent face smiles across from me, and I wrinkle my nose. "Nathaniel."

He giggles. "Hi."

I shake my head as he helps me up. Well, as much as he can help for an nine-year-old. Sparkling brown eyes stare up at me with such youthful innocence that it fills my heart with envy. I put my hands on my hips. "Can you tell me exactly why you were running in the halls again?"

He presses his lips together, brushing his brown hair out of his face. "Uh… practicing… for the… Redcoats. Yeah."

I raise an eyebrow. "Mmhm. Would you like me to tell Andrew of your… 'practicing?'"

His eyes widen. "N-No, that's okay."

I giggle and wrap my arms around him, lifting him into my arms. He wraps his legs around my waist and arms around my neck, shrieking in delight. "Nate, we don't want you to get in trouble, now, do we?"

He laughs, shaking his head.

"Alright, then. Where is Ms. Perkins?" I ask. He pulls away slightly, and I see the light blush that coats his cheeks. "Nate, where is Ms. Perkins?"

He shrugs. "Around. Somewhere."

I laugh and start tickling him. He starts flailing, nearly falling out of my arms several times. Suddenly, a woman turns down the hallway, her hair ruffled and unkempt, a snarl on her face.

"That—that boy! More like a menace! I quit!" she shouts.

I press my lips together to keep from smiling at her appearance. "I-I… I'm so sorry, Ms. Perkins. Please, stay."

"Not for one million pounds!"

She storms down the hallway, bumping into my shoulder on her way out. I snort, looking back at Nate, who's face has gone near white. "Don't worry about it. She wasn't much fun, anyway, right?"

Nate smiles, wrapping his arms around my neck again. "Could you be my babysitter, Corinne?" he asks, his high-pitched voice sending an ache to my heart.

"Nate," I say, "we've been over this—"

"I know," he wines. "I was just hoping that maybe you could… just for a little while. You're so much more fun than some smelly old lady."

I smile sadly, rubbing his back gingerly. "I'd hope so." Sighing, I set him down and kneel so I'm at his level. "Hon, you know I have duties. Someday you'll have them, too. Maybe someday you can come on missions with me."

His eyes widen. "Really? When?"

My heart pangs at his eagerness to join this life. If only he knew what I've done. Maybe someday I'll tell him. "When you're old enough."

"Nathaniel Richmond! Where are you?"

My eyes dart up ahead just in time to see Philip storming down the hallway. Nate gasps and hides behind me, clutching my leg. Philip sighs when he sees Nate's small figure. "Nathaniel, come here," he says, his voice less angry and more filled with annoyance.

"Philip," I say, smiling, "always a pleasure."

Philip rolls his eyes. "Hello, Corinne. Mind giving me Nathaniel?"

I turn around, letting Nate jump back into my arms. "I don't know, sir. Should I? The nanny is already gone. Might want to go catch her." I start walking, and I hear Philip's footsteps right behind me. We walk into the main hall of the institute, and I see the amused smirks of everyone as I challenge one of the largest men in the entire building.

I stop, turning back to Philip. "Come on, Philip. It's not his fault he has to deal with such intolerable women. After all, he is the only child here."

Philip sighs, running his fingers through his graying hair. "I know, I know. I just get so upset sometimes. Who is going to watch him? I can't have him getting into trouble."

He sets his gaze on me, and I roll my eyes. "Don't give me that look. You've known for a long time that I refuse to me some housewife who takes care of the children and waits on her husband hand and foot." I set Nate down on a bench and turn back to Philip. "I love Nate. You know I do. But I have responsibilities, so why should I be the one to give them up? You are his uncle."

Philip looks down at his nephew, who had just taken up fiddling with his thumbs. He kneels in front of him. "Nate, please. You have to help me. I-I know it's been hard since Mommy and Daddy… passed away, but you have to cooperate some with me. If Sir Andrew finds you a burden, he'll kick you out of the institute."

Over my dead body.

Nate sighs. "Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make Ms. Perkins quit. I was just… having fun with her."

Philip chuckles, ruffling his nephew's hair. "Yeah, yeah. Right." He stands, bowing his head at me. "Thank you, Corinne, for taking care of him. I really appreciate it."

I smile. "It's no problem, really." It's really not. I love taking care of Nate. It makes me feel less like a monster and more, well, human, I suppose. There are some days that I just can't deal with it anymore, days the memories just hit me so hard. Nate is what keeps me sane.

"Come on, Nathaniel. We have to go apologize to Ms. Perkins." Nate wrinkles his nose in disgust, but hops off the bench and hurries along with his uncle anyway.

I smile as I watch them go. There's a part of me that still wants what I had with… James. I want a husband, children, and everything that comes along with it. But… I don't think I could ever love that way again. He was my hope, my true love. He was mine. And I can never have him.

But I keep going. No matter how many times I've wanted to give up, I keep going. After all, there's only two choices to choose from when you're completely broken:

Give up.

Or keep going.

As I watch Nate leave, I feel a hand rest on my shoulder. Looking behind me, I see those all too familiar amber eyes.

"Anna," I say, blinking in surprise, "what are you doing here?"

She giggles. "Is that the welcome I get after so long?" she asks, her English accent emphasizing every word.

I let out a laugh. "Oh, sorry." I wrap my arms around her in an embrace, squeezing her small frame gently. "It's been a while."

She pulls back, a smirk on her face. "It seems it has. You've forgotten how to greet a friend without sounding like they're a terrible burden to your day."

I sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "No, you couldn't have come on a better day."

She stares at me a moment before gently grasping my wrist. Following her gaze, I suddenly see the crimson stain of blood on my sleeve. I gasp, snatching my wrist away and hiding it behind my back. "I… I can explai—"

Anna shakes her head. "Corinne, I know what you do. You don't need to hide that from me."

I can feel tears pressing against the back of my eyes, which is strange because I rarely cry anymore. "I know I don't need to, but I don't want you to view me as a monster." Though, I suppose that is what I deserve. I kill people, and… sometimes I enjoy it, too.

Like today. I had known John would come to find me. I had known what he did. And I had to get revenge. They do say that revenge won't help you feel better, and part of that is true, but I had felt such fulfillment when I sentenced Warner to banishment. I remember it perfectly. The chills that had crawled down my spine, the cold sweat. I remember the evil smirk, and the complete pleasure in my voice as I said it. It did make me feel better. And so did killing John.

I sigh. Maybe I am a monster.

Anna presses a hand to my cheek. "You are not a monster. You are one of the most humane people I've ever met."

I cringe and turn away from her, folding my arms across my chest. "That's a lie."

Anna shakes her head. "No, it's not. You know what it's like, Corinne. You know what it's like to be broken. You know what it's like to be betrayed and hurt over and over again. And yet, you still get back up each and every time it happens. You are human. You bleed—you bleed a lot—but you don't let that stop you."

My lip quivers, but I force it to stop. I've had enough of crying. "I wish I could agree," I whisper.

Finally giving up, Anna returns to the reason as to why she's really here. "I have information for Andrew." I nod, gesturing for her to go on. "The English are coming to the outskirts of the French border. Just inside English waters. Many of my men down there report that they may be attacking soon."

My heart beats rapidly. No. They can't be attacked. Not without me there. They can't. They won't make it. They won't make it without me. I let out a breath, trying to clear my head. I shouldn't underestimate the military there. Renée has written me, saying that the Black Cobras has been disbanded. They've reinstated the Musketeers as the primary protection of the king with first-class trained men.

Everything's okay. Renée has it all under control. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

It's the ale.

As I lay in bed dousing my memories with alcohol that sends my mind into a flurry of stupid things that I could never do. Running away. Going to Paris anyway. Defying Andrew. No, these things are not an option. I can't risk jeopardizing my welcome to stay here. This place is all I have.

But I can't seem to shake the idea out of my head. Of course, it would be an adventure, unlike every other day around here. Surely Andrew wouldn't mind that much. And besides, it's not like I'm asking a lot. It's my 31st birthday. It only happens once. I just want to be with my friends and my home for once.

But he doesn't understand. No. He thinks it's all a huge waste of time, complete nonsense. How could I expect him to understand? He's lived in isolation for years. I suppose I did once as well, but I can't do that anymore.

I sit, groaning as my head spins. I have got to stop drinking. I slide down to the ground and start digging through my armoir, throwing clothes into a bag. If Andrew thinks he can boss me around, then he's got something else coming for him. I am not one to be messed with, and it's about time for him to know that.

Standing up, I throw my bag on my bed and slam a piece of paper onto my desk. With a black pen, I write my dearest boss a note:

Dear Andrew,

Fuck you.

Corinne

I snort. I am so drunk right now. It is a very good thing I won't be here in the morning. Shaking my head slightly, I walk out the door.

There is a reason I never leave my room drunk, and that reason is the fact that I cannot walk in the dark. Not because I'm afraid, of course. It's because I end up falling on my face, and that does not look good in Andrew's eyes.

After managing to walk all the way to the stables, nearly falling down the stairs in the process, I open the door to the stable. With almost no trouble, I saddle my horse and mount him slowly, trying not to kill myself. I turn toward the exit and let out a breath.

This is stupid. This is really stupid. But somehow I can't get myself to march back up to my room. There's nothing stopping me. Nothing except myself, I suppose. But it's too late to turn back now. I close my eyes, moving my feet to get the horse into a trot, but a small voice stops me.

"Corinne?"

I gasp, looking toward the entrance where a young boy stands. "Nate? What are you doing out here?"

He blinks at me, unfazed. "You were acting strange, so I followed you. Where are you going?"

I press my lips together. "Uh… to go see some friends."

I can see the tears fill his eyes, and my heart pangs with guilt. The last thing I want to do is cause him pain. He's too innocent to feel the hurt that I've felt. "Why? Why do you wanna leave?"

I unmount my horse and walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his small frame. "Oh, Nate. I don't want to leave you. I'll never want to leave you. Always know that."

He pulls away from me, his lip quivering. "B-But… Can I come with you?"

I sigh. "No. It's too dangerous. Besides, you've got to stay and take care of Uncle Philip. You know he needs your help. And he'd be very worried if you disappeared."

"But I'll be very worried if you disappear."

My eyes fill with tears. At least someone will be. "Nate, I'm a big girl, okay? I can take care of myself. People need you here."

Nate, tears streaming down his face, wraps his arms around my legs, preventing me from going anywhere. "No! No, I won't leave you! You can't leave me, not like Mommy and Daddy did."

I choke on a sob. My God. That's what this is about. I kneel down, bringing my thumbs across his cheeks to dry his tears. "Nate, Mommy and Daddy aren't gone. They'll always be with you and so will I. I'll never leave you."

"But I want you here for real. What if you don't come back?"

Slow, silent tears threaten stream down my face. I blink them away. "I'll come back. I'll always come back for you."

He wraps his arms around my neck. "Promise?" he murmurs into my ear.

I sniffle, returning the hug, squeezing him gingerly. "I promise."

Slowly, as if not wanting to go, Nate releases me and wipes his face with his shirt sleeve. He hugs me one last time, a silent beg for me not to leave. I smile slightly as he takes my hand, fiddling with my ring. He always thought it was so pretty. With a small sigh, I remove the ring for the first time in over a year and set it in his hand.

"Keep this safe for me?" I ask.

His eyes wide, he nods, pocketing the ring.

"Promise?" I stare at him accusingly.

He nods rapidly. "Promise."

I lean in and lightly press my lips to his cheek before mounting my horse once again. "Goodbye, Nate," I say, trying not to cry.

He shakes his head. "This is not goodbye."

I laugh, running a hand over my cheeks. "You're right. May we meet again, Nate."

"May we meet again, Corinne."

Leaving has never been so hard for me before. Ask me to leave eight years ago, and I would be gone within five minutes. But there has never been a greater challenge in my life than leaving that boy behind, and I can only pray to God I make it back here to him.

(A/N: Alright, guys! Here's our first *Official* chapter. Ahhhh I can't wait for you to read this story. I have a super crazy plot outlined (Mostly in my head, but still). Just hold on tight! Also, I'll probably be adding new songs to my Spotify playlist every few days or so. Oh, also, I should've mentioned it is NSFW, so keep that in mind. Lol :D

Chapters will consist of three POVs, btw. It will fluctuate between Corinne/Louis/Matthew and repeat. I hope you will stick with me through this time!

And now, for my favorite part of posting, replies!

TurquaTortle: Hahahahaha. I can definitely tell you that Philippe is NOT coming back to life. He is quite dead. Lolol Glad you enjoyed the chapter!

Lasting Violet: HAHAHA I'm glad AATY was enjoyable enough for a countdown! Lol It's not Philippe. Philippe is very cold and six feet under. ;) Very true, but trust me when Matthew is much more complex than you might think. Thanks for reading! And, yes, updates will usually be on Tuesdays.

Decembra1998: Lmao I know. Matthew is v naïve, but hopefully his mind will be changed. Thanks you, and thanks for reviewing!

Despicable Margo: Lolololol I know. She's suffered so much. I'm so mean to her, but tbh I feel no remorse. :P And thank you so much! I definitely try to make her as strong as I can, but keep her realistic and feminine. Hahaha My birthday's in October, too. I KNOW. She's so pretty and represents Corinne so well imo. Lol I'm a raphead, too, but I definitely recommend many of those artists, especially Marina and the Diamonds, Panic! At the Disco, and Allessia Cara! Oh, trust me, this is going to have much more romance than my previous stories, but it's just not one of the main themes. Mostly we'll just have a ton on the side in the later chapters! Stay tuned and thanks for reviewing!

PrincessGeekelle: Thanks for reviewing!

Demigoddess8: Ahhhh I know. It's been a long time coming, but I'm very happy the date's finally here!

Thanks for reviewing, everyone! It honestly makes my day! Stay tuned for the next chapter, which is Louis's POV.

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