"Empress," he corrects. "I served as a soldier for a few years, then the Duke sent me as a diplomatic gift to the Emperor. I served him for a year before he named me Lord Protector to his daughter. She became Empress. I was her personal guard, her courier, her - well, it doesn't matter. I failed. She was killed."
He leans back against the tree. "But the Loyalists betrayed me. They poisoned me, threw me to the Flooded District. Left me for dead. They wanted power for themselves. I saved Emily, but they wanted to use her. Havelock, their leader, was the only one alive. I went after him, saw him dangling little Emily out from the top of the lighthouse. I must have missed a guard, though, because I felt a pain, ended up back in the prison cell from Coldridge. Only it was the Barge."
"I know what it's like," he says softly, his hand resting still on his dog, soothing the sleeping beast. "To bear witness to someone threatening to destroy the person you were meant to protect. To see them succeed."
It's subtle, but there's sobriety there, a respect and sincerity that comes with personal experience. With loss. "I'm sorry."
Corvo nods. It's a sign of appreciation, an unspoken moment of respect. But he's talked enough, his head filled with the sight of Jessamine in his arms, begging him.
And the note left in the Void that read YOU CANNOT SAVE HER.
Having Richter understand doesn't make him feel better, necessarily, but there's a sort of solidarity in it. One day, he'll ask him the story. One day, maybe when it will matter.
But until then, he's content to lapse into silence.
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"Did you kill him? The man who killed her."
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He leans back against the tree. "But the Loyalists betrayed me. They poisoned me, threw me to the Flooded District. Left me for dead. They wanted power for themselves. I saved Emily, but they wanted to use her. Havelock, their leader, was the only one alive. I went after him, saw him dangling little Emily out from the top of the lighthouse. I must have missed a guard, though, because I felt a pain, ended up back in the prison cell from Coldridge. Only it was the Barge."
Hence the reason he lost his goddamned mind.
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"I know what it's like," he says softly, his hand resting still on his dog, soothing the sleeping beast. "To bear witness to someone threatening to destroy the person you were meant to protect. To see them succeed."
It's subtle, but there's sobriety there, a respect and sincerity that comes with personal experience. With loss. "I'm sorry."
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And the note left in the Void that read YOU CANNOT SAVE HER.
Having Richter understand doesn't make him feel better, necessarily, but there's a sort of solidarity in it. One day, he'll ask him the story. One day, maybe when it will matter.
But until then, he's content to lapse into silence.