Cloaked Motives.

She smiled and nodded dutifully, biting down on the sides of her mouth. Manipulation always did come easy.

He swept his charcoal eyes over her radiating grin, accepting it without question. Why shouldn't she be smiling at him? That it may have been a facade did not occur to him. He had no reason to suspect ersatz gratitude. Arrogance dripped from every pore; it bubbled from the roots of his thick, golden hair. It did a fantastic job of blinding him - woollen glasses could never have emulated.

What was it that he had said? "I'm glad we see eye to eye". How wrong he was.

Her smile became a grimace, but he had already left the room; was wordlessly closing the door. When the heavy oak arch clicked into place, she spat blood onto the floor. His floor. A small price to pay.

The ridges in her mouth. He would wonder where they came from, she thought, relishing the aluminium taste of the blood. If only there were more of it - enough to go around. A taste of blood satisfies everyone. Wasn't that the reason he kept her here?

She didn't know. He was difficult to read. He disguised his motives well - a necessary evil while coercing a mauling.

Hers was next. She could tell by the spring in his step. Executions did that to him.