Celaena wasn't the one to come to Lucina after the next week. 

Instead it was a man. He was tall and rather thin. He dressed well, but he had the complexion of a commoner who spent their entire life under the sun. 

He seemed approachable enough, but he didn't speak for a long time. 

He just followed like a shadow. He always kept his distance, which Lucina was grateful for, she just wished she had a name. She hated being alone with strangers.

The man was currently standing by the foot of the bed. He was brushing the toe of his shoe against a particular part of the floor.

"Is something wrong?"

The man looked at her calmly. "There's blood on the floor. Is it yours, or is it his?"

Lucina turned back to her bag, "Does it matter? You know nothing of me, don't assume you can judge me."

"Oh, I'd never dream of judging you." The man smiled grimly. "How did you do it?"

Lucina was silent for a moment, "As it turns out, what one can endure over fifteen years, one cannot endure over just an hour."

The man nodded, "And was it worth it?"

"Every moment of it."

"Revenge doesn't feel nearly as damning when you know you'll never die."

"What's your name?"

"Nathaniel, Ambrose Nathaniel Pierce." He smiled, "It's a pleasure to meet you."