I’d always prided myself on being a strong and well contained man. I have to be. I make my living by killing. I know that’s not exactly the best career, but dirty business has to get done, and since I can handle it, why shouldn’t I protect those that can’t handle it? I was lucky enough to find Fitz, who loves me in spite of myself. But even still, I thought I understood what it was like to have a tough time balancing the life I wanted to lead, my nature, my secrets, and the life that I actually did lead. I thought, perhaps egotistically, that I was the strongest person I would ever get to know.
I never imagined a woman like Lydia could exist. She knew her entire life that she was created, engineered, for one specific purpose, and that purpose was death and destruction. Not just that she could stomach it or had a knack for it, but it was what she was built to do. She was the last in a long line of people who were supposed to destroy everything that others held dear. And after she left, she knew that if her brother, her twin, her flesh and blood, discovered where she was, then he would likely wipe her off the face of the Earth in less than a heartbeat. If I were her, If I knew that, I don’t think I could have gotten out of bed, let alone smile, stand tall, fight for the best, and hope that everything turned out okay the way that Lydia has.
At this point, let’s be honest. I don’t care what her beginnings were. If I could be one-third the person that Lydia is, or have even one-quarter of her strength–I’d be more than proud of myself.