The Katariah was moored in the harbour beneath Solitude, creaking in the lap of a rising tide. Athene smelled the salt as the deck baked beneath the afternoon sun. She heard the cry of sea birds that had chosen the ship as their temporary island, riding the currents near the masthead.

The deck was empty, save for ghosts. The remains of a dozen guards lay as if sleeping, seasoning the wood slats with their blood.

It wasn't all her doing. When she'd come out from below deck, blinking in the harsh light, a dragon had already been skimming down over the northern mountains to spray fire across the ship. Engrossed in this flying distraction, most of the guards were burned alive or met Athene's blade without realizing what was happening. She'd already taken care of the guards in the rest of the ship. Most of them had been too relaxed with the knowledge that the Dark Brotherhood and Gaius Maro's plot had been eradicated. Now the distant road of a bored, retreating dragon was barely audible beneath the creaking wood of the Emperor's ship, and that was all.

It was named for Empress Katariah, wife of the famous Emperor Palagius the Mad. She'd been a Dark Elf, a Dunmer, and one of the more controversial as well as the more successful rulers during that time. She'd reigned for nearly half a century, fixing a lot of what her crazy husband had broken throughout Tamriel. And after all that she'd died in a minor altercation in Black Marsh. Did the Shadowscales have something to do with that?

Why had Tidus Mede II named his ship after this Empress? Did he admire how she'd overcome racism to lead a unified Empire? That sounded about right, considering the state of the Empire today. It surely couldn't have been her petty death that inspired him.

There was nothing petty about the death Athene had dealt that day. She was second to last on a ghost ship, and the only other remaining soul was locked in his quarters with no idea she was coming.

Stepping quietly below, watching her footsteps so there would be nothing to alert him that his doom was prowling, she came to the door of the Emperor's quarters and examined the lock. It would be a tough one. No matter. She had plenty of picks, and all the time in the world. Unless the dragon came back and managed to burn right through the deck.

As she worked she let half her mind daydream about the murder to come. Should it be a sneak attack? He was an old man, but he'd once been a warrior, and she had no doubt he could defend himself. But it seemed like such an important kill she didn't want it happen without fanfare. Slit his throat in his sleep? Hardly a fitting ending for the Emperor of all of Tamriel. Like Katariah, dying far from home. A story for conspiracy theorists rather than bards.

The lock clicked. She was in. Taking a breath, composing herself fully, she pushed the door open on smooth hinges and peered within.

"Hello," the Emperor said. "Well, come in."

So much for a sneak attack.

"I'm not surprised to see you, no. I knew from the start I couldn't avoid my fate. Now you are here, and you will kill me. But perhaps you'll allow me one request?"

Athene checked the room. They were truly alone, and the Emperor appeared unarmed. Still, she wouldn't let herself relax, the way his Penitus Oculatus had relaxed, thinking their job done. Until he was dead, he wasn't dead. She satisfied herself any threat would come directly from the Emperor, picked a spot with her back to the wall, and crossed her arms.

"Just one request?"

He smiled. She looked in his eyes and saw everything that had been missing from his decoy's gaze: all the knowledge of the legacy he'd created, and the one he'd leave behind. All he'd accomplished and how he'd failed.

"Sure," she said. "It's been a slow day."

He snorted and turned to gaze out the coloured glass across the water to Skyrim. A land that had likely caused him a lot of pain, particularly recently. A land he'd been unable to control. It was no surprise what he said next, but it still made Athene gape.

"Kill Ulfric Stormcloak."

"Oh, is that all?"

"You think I jest. I do not. The man is a martyr already, and he isn't even dead. Perhaps if he were, we'd have some chance of laying to rest the spectre his name has become. While he lives he sends more and more of my people to their death. Some of them even think he's right."

She looked at the back of his fine robes with their fur trim. "You think killing Ulfric will stop all that?"

"No. Like any storm, the aftermath might be as bad as the storm itself. But at least we can start to rebuild."

"I assume you've tried this before, though."

"You have methods that might prove more successful than our previous efforts. Infiltration—"

"You don't have spies?"

"Of course we do. Often we hire them from you."

That was a revelation. Though again, not entirely surprising. Perhaps this was how Astrid had already been friendly with Commander Maro.

Funny, it didn't make her feel any better about that particular relationship.

"This isn't how it's done," Athene said. "There's a prayer, and… body parts. A contract bound in blood."

"I understand. I would perform your traditional ritual, but as you can see I've run out of time. I would appeal to you as an assassin anyway, pointing out that your Brotherhood has shaped the future for ages past, and that your work has served the good of Tamriel despite itself by stopping wars in their tracks, removing the mouthpieces that move the soldiers. But instead, let me appeal to you as a citizen of my Empire, a Bosmer who has perhaps seen firsthand what the Thalmor can do, and know that this civil war is exactly what they want to weaken us further."

"I've come to murder you," Athene said. "And you think to appeal to the good within me? Don't you think this is-"

"Foolish?" Titus Mede turned his head and his smile reached his eyes. "Mad?"

She fought the urge to check the room again, and see if Cicero was hidden somewhere, giggling into his hand.

"Yes, that," she said.

"It's a small hope," he said. "I know this. Payment for the deed has already been delivered to your associate in Riften. I leave it in your hands."

He turned again to the window. His back was to Athene.

"I guess it's time," he said.

She didn't make him wait any longer.