Le Rois de Thune made a pitiful attempt to scramble backwards, backing into the wall, even as the blade pierced his chest. Arno kneeled next to the man, examining him with a mixture of amusement and vindictive satisfaction.
"Le Rois est mort, vive le Rois," Arno murmured with a small smirk.
The King of Beggars hissed in response. "Amused, are we? Are you proud of what you've accomplished, assassin?"
Arno's smirk melted away, replaced with a serious expression. "If you mean putting down a murderer and a cruel tyrant, then yes, I am proud."
"Murder?!" Le Rois shrieked. "Can it even be called murder, to exterminate such a pompous fool as De la Serre? I offered him my services, my spies, my kingdom! And he spat on them, spat on me! The intrigues of rats, he said!"
"You killed a good man because of one insult?" Arno seethed.
"I wouldn't expect you to understand," Le Rois spat. "I know your type, assassin. Your speech, the way you carry yourself. Noble or bourgeois, I'd wager. You can't imagine what it's like, left to rot in the gutters, invisible to "polite society." It took me years to claw my way to the top of le Cour des Miracles, to finally make something of it all!"
"If you're expecting my sympathy, you'll be sorely disappointed," Arno replied coldly. "I've seen your fine handiwork. The forced amputations, the extortion of beggars. For someone who hates the upper class, you treat your subjects worse than they do."
"My actions were necessary," he insisted. "Perhaps once my new grandmaster's vision comes to reality... their necessity will fade."
Le Rois de Thune slumped to the ground before Arno could interrogate him further about this grandmaster. Arno glared at the rat king, and muttered, "a kingdom built on a foundation of lies will inevitably crumble." Retrieving a familiar silver pin from the body, he began to rush through the sewers to freedom.