Sneaking up on Captain Ramsey is surprisingly easy. The rage making her heart race feels like a roar in her veins, and she hesitates, hand on the hilt of her sword. She could end it now, slide the blade into his back and justice would be served... Then her hands reach out, grabbing at his throat with a strength few knew their lithe Empress possessed, and soon Ramsey falls unconscious, becoming dead weight in her arms.
For a moment she stares at him, hand gripping her sword, wondering why she doesn't run its edge across his throat. She wants to; the saber's hilt is shaking with the strength of her grip. She would be completely within her right as Empress—he was a traitor. Her head still ached from his punching her across the face. One hundred years ago, lifting a hand to a royal was grounds for immediate execution.
But Gristol was different now.
She was different.
"It's easy to kill," Corvo said, his large hands covering her small, shaking ones. She'd just killed a rat with a crossbow; a good hit for a twelve-year old's first try, but it was also the first life she'd knowingly taken. She wanted to cry, she wanted to throw up, she wanted her mother.
"But it's hard to live with the aftermath," her father said, his eyes somehow sad and kind at the same time. "The skills I teach you might save your life someday. When it's a fight between you and an enemy, you cannot hesitate, because they will not. But killing someone who is entirely at your mercy... someone who can't fight back, that's murder. You'll have to decide what you can live with; what kind of person you want to be." He paused. "What kind of person your mother thought you could be."
Rage makes bile rise in the back of her throat. She wants to ignore her father's lessons; wants to toss them aside. Instead she glares at Ramey's prone form. How could he do this? She'd liked Ramsey—he had a wry wit that was often appreciated during long, boring security briefings. A wit that Alexi didn't often share when it was her speeches he had interrupted.
Suddenly, the rage leaves Emily as quickly as it had built, leaving her with a boundless sorrow. She re-sheaths her sword, and with a grunt of effort, pulls Ramsey's unconscious body into the safe room. He wouldn't be able to do any damage in there... and by the time she was back on her throne, she wagers he'd be ready for trial.
She locks the door behind her, staring at it for a few minutes as if she was leaving herself behind.
"No," she whispers. "I will be myself. I will live... and I will make my mother proud."
She turns on her heel, facing the dusty, unused secret entrance and walks away, head high.