It lingered over her, a shroud, a cloak of something. The way it permeated the air around her. The slow click clacking of her heels on the wooden floors only added a soundtrack to the darkness. The hallway was brightly lit, but this darkness was all around her. It skimmed her peripheral vision and allowed a hue of black to cover her vision.

Her walk was sure, her spine straight and her head held high. The way she composed herself was if she was heading into a court room only to be judged by those around her. Were we all not judged? Judged for the way we speak. The way we dress. The way we comport ourselves. These thoughts were prominent in her mind as she entered the old court house. Such a fitting spot for her current task.

Easily slipping through the court room doors, she hears the click behind her. Her trusted men would be standing outside but this was her meeting. One all of her own. One of the tables was set with two chairs opposite each other. The man was already sitting there. She paused briefly knowing that he probably saw it as weakness. The tell tale sign was the curve on his lips. He thinks she is afraid of him. She is merely taking in his stance. He was defensive, probably at having been brought here against his will.  She would probably have straightened her shoulders if they were not already straight. Without a show of any emotion, she closed the distance and took her chair.

"Do you know why I had you brought here, Sir?" Her words were formal but they were icy. They held an edge that was unreadable and snapped his attention to the seriousness of this conversation.

"No. Why would I? Your line has always been a little crazy." His smirk still on his face. She wanted to wipe it off but violence would not get her what she wanted.

"My line? Oh you mean my bloodline. Silly me." Her hands folded in front of her. Playing the fool was always easy but then she had never been that. "You seem a little stuck in the past, you know. Perhaps you have had your nose buried way too long in your ancestors journals to form your own opinion? Have you got any of them around to read to me? I do enjoy a lovely bedtime story."

Her words dripped with a tinge of sarcasm. Dealing with these types was always difficult but nonetheless there was a point to this.

"Listen, lady, what do you want?" His voice held an edge of irritation. Did she strike a nerve so soon?

"Just a friendly chat and some honesty. I have heard around the claims that you know me. That you know my line. But the strangest thing, when they told me your name, I knew nothing about you. Now maybe that is because I don't carry every ancestor's journal with me, nor have I even parted the pages of a single one."

"I do know you. I know everything I need to know about you. Crazy.. " She swiftly rapped her knuckles on the table and drew his attention back to her, ending the rant he looked like he was about to have.

"Sorry I wasn't done. I heard all of this, but could you tell me my favourite colour? What things in this line of work that I value most? Could you tell me what I dream about among these streets?

No, you can't tell me a single thing in regards to who I am as a person.

You speak as though you know a person, but clearly you have only heard rumours. Never seen for yourself who I actually am. What I actually hold dear. And any of my inner most thoughts. You know nothing about me."

Her eyes narrowed. She dared him to speak right now. Almost willed it. Instead he wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Whatever you have heard about my line, it may be true. It may not be. As for me, I deal with every person as they are in this present day. Not as their line would dictate them to be. Perhaps you should try it some time. Only then would you truly know someone."

Leaving him speechless at the table, she got up and walked back to the door she had come from. Three knocks on the door and her men opened it. Allowing her to leave with them trailing behind her.