[attr="class","itsover"]
The girl still worried for him.

Even after he'd laughed in her face. Even after he had admitted to his lies, stood as nonchalantly as could be, and started on his way, she still believed him. She still worried for him in a way that severely concerned him. Had the girl never heard of deception? Had she never once been the victim of sarcasm? Perhaps she had lived such a sheltered life that she couldn't spot danger even when it announced itself with a bow and a formal introduction! What a pitiful life she must have led. 

And what a frustrating result it had left him with.

Ardyn had experience with resurrection. He'd been reformed as many times as he'd died, in fact, and he knew well enough that staying here did him no favors. What he really needed was to slip off by himself, to let his body reform itself, and to think in silence and privacy. None of which would be allowed him until he dealt with one very talkative, very misguided nuisance.

Unfortunately, she seemed incapable of taking the hint.

“Is there really… nothing I can do for you?” Her voice was hushed as though she herself couldn't believe it. Another might have felt pity for the depths of her sympathy and human kindness. The gravity of the situation had shaken her to her very core, and nothing could right this wrong. Or at least, that's what he assumed. He hardly cared one way or the other.

"I'm afraid not," he said with a lamenting click of his tongue. "It's a tragedy, but such is the way of life!" He gave a flourishing wave of his hand before bowing his head to meet her eye. He grinned widely enough to show all of his teeth, dripping with vitriol. "Blame the gods if you will. Or fate. Or chance. But you're too late for that. There's nothing you can do."

He straightened and turned on his heel, swaying with the momentum of his gestures. The forest was silent around him except for the odd chirping of some impossible songbird. He smirked as he ambled across dead leaves and wild grasses. "Farewell, my dear! May we meet again under brighter circumstances or never at all!" He gave her a dismissive wave of his hand as he went, not bothering to turn to look at her again or to acknowledge anything else she might say. He was done here, both with the place and the girl. He hoped she'd think better than to follow him.

If she did, he might lose his patience.

But that was a matter for another time. As it stood, he had other thoughts to entertain. Thoughts of death and resurrection. Thoughts of gods and betrayals. Thoughts of murder and particularly of Noctis. Surely, he was dead if the skies had cleared. Surely, his plans had come to something and the line of Lucis had finally ended. It must have been so, but he couldn't be certain -- not while Ardyn himself lived and not while this place surprised him.

The next day, he would reform his body and explore the town before him. He would plot and muse and wonder as to his condition and to his future. But that time was not now while his eyes dripped blood and his mouth leaked bile. For now, he would disappear into the shadows so as not to be bothered by any other brainless do-gooder who might wish to see him aided. 

A jaunty tune caught his lips as he ambled into the forest. One that he had heard long ago and that soothed the questions inside of him. 'Tomorrow is another day,' he told himself, 'You needn't murder her now.'

And so he sauntered whistling into the darkness.

ulla