HAD he wanted it? At the moment, Grantaire wasn't sure. Yes, he believed in what Bellec, and the other apprentice who was paired with him, Arno, had told them about being an assassin, working in the dark to serve the light, everything being permitted because nothing was ultimately true. They still didn't feel like buzzwords, and he'd taken the brand after his first blooding and solo job, but he'd been in a bit of a numb state since then.
He'd known his target and probably ought to have mentioned that fact even if it wasn't well. She'd been one of the sellers at the market, had pushed her peaches and oranges at him every time he'd happened by, and had hinted at having bread to sell. As it turned out, her bread and dealings in it, had been the problem. She'd hurt others, children, like Gavroche from the streets and the sisters he'd mentioned were still at home, by her actions, driving up prices for cheaper and cheaper, and worse quality 'food' that was half mixed with sawdust, and she'd done her own share of killing. But...He'd known her.
The thought stuck with Grantaire today, even as he looked at the brand again, and told himself that it was for the greater good. With that came sacrifices, he supposed, as he contemplated the question, and then nodded, taking care to make it firm enough.
"I didn't make it, but I...yes, I wanted it. And I'd prefer we keep it on the downlow, for now, yes. Long story, but you know how secret societies of anarchist painters go."
no subject
He'd known his target and probably ought to have mentioned that fact even if it wasn't well. She'd been one of the sellers at the market, had pushed her peaches and oranges at him every time he'd happened by, and had hinted at having bread to sell. As it turned out, her bread and dealings in it, had been the problem. She'd hurt others, children, like Gavroche from the streets and the sisters he'd mentioned were still at home, by her actions, driving up prices for cheaper and cheaper, and worse quality 'food' that was half mixed with sawdust, and she'd done her own share of killing. But...He'd known her.
The thought stuck with Grantaire today, even as he looked at the brand again, and told himself that it was for the greater good. With that came sacrifices, he supposed, as he contemplated the question, and then nodded, taking care to make it firm enough.
"I didn't make it, but I...yes, I wanted it. And I'd prefer we keep it on the downlow, for now, yes. Long story, but you know how secret societies of anarchist painters go."