The faceless woman, who Lana started to think of as No One, finally let Lana out to use the woods as her chamber pot. It was nearly morning by then, the soft glow of the sun revealing all the dew on the surrounding greenery, although Lana felt it in her wet clothes.

"Would you like to ride in the back, or in the barrel?" No One asked with a flat tone. Lana still couldn't believe this was Ellyn the whole time. No One was more homely than Ellyn with long facial features, and ashen brown hair and black eyes.

"Obviously the back."

"Then do so without causing trouble," she instructed and helped Lana into the back, the cart creaking and groaning. "If you become an annoyance or try to give us away, your death will be painful," No One warned as if she were merely telling Lana the status of the weather.

Lana nodded and settled into her seat that was covered in hay. No One chained her wrists to a metal ring on the floor of the cart. "Who paid for my killing?" Lana asked with a somber tone, looking at her cuffed hands, the irons freshly forged. Probably from the house of Black and White.

"Lord Morton Hornley," she said and whipped the reigns, to which Lana lurched with the movement, although her muscles were tensed from those words.

Lana's blood ran hot. What in the seven hells was doing? "What? Why would he do that?"

"That is for him to answer."

"I only did my job," Lana said, nearly offended at such a response. Why would Morganna's father hire a faceless to kill Lana?

"And I am doing mine."

Lana leaned back into the wood, her wrists and ankles still bound as the sun began to shine through the misty air. Lana wanted to hate No One, as she is who took Lana. But her words were correct, and No One was only doing her job, just as much as Lana was.

Lana was annoyingly conflicted, not knowing if she should yell at No One or sit in silence. In truth, she kept scanning the area for anything to kill No One with. Anything, even a strip of cloth could be used to choke her out. Lana looked at the chains on her wrist. She could wrap her hands around No One's neck and try to choke her with the metal. But alas, she wouldn't be able to reach. No One seemed to have thought of that as well.

"I thought you might like to die with pride," No One said.

"What?" Lana asked, looking over No One to see where her weapons were, which were located at her lip and ankles. I could be stabbed, but use the fire to heal myself.

She looked back at the chains that gave her little room to move. Lana couldn't reach No One even if she wanted to.

"You are quiet, and not annoying. You are taking this, metaphorically, on your feet, and not your knees. It is what someone of our kind does."

The mention of our kind caught Lana off guard, and whether that was on purpose or not, it oddly made her feel less alone in her march towards death. "Well, that's because I don't have much option."

"It is always a shame to come across a face that doesn't deserve to die. But a girl is no one to judge."

Lana decided to indulge in the conversation, for if anything, it could distract. "Do you still have a personality? I mean it genuinely, and not to be rude. I've rarely gotten to know a faceless."

"A girl maintains many things that defines her as a unique servant, but she truly is No One."

"Hm," Lana grunted in reply. "You do know that Lord Hornley is committing a crime, at least to my people. They will not forgive him for this. He is punishing me for doing my job. Surely, your order understands that."

"Then he must answer to your people. A girl answers to the many-faced god, and he has been given a name. Which means he must receive a face. The politics of humans is not for the many-faced god to judge."

Lana tutted, and looked around, the overgrown foliage rather peaceful, if she weren't in his scenario. "How long do we have?"

"I think it is a month, give or take. It is near Casterly Rock."

"This is going to be a long journey," Lana said with impatience in her tone. The Crimson Company would wonder where she was in a month when she hadn't arrived in Qohor.

"At least you are no longer in a barrel."

It took nearly a month, like No One said, to reach the Horned Castle.

They didn't arrive without some discomfort, of course. Lana, to her defense, did try to escape more than once. No One was always one step ahead of her. Whatever they did to train the Faceless was more effective than the Crimson Company.

Each time it just resulted in more constraints for Lana, to the point that when they arrived, nearly a month later, rope was wrapped around her arms and legs, and an arrow pointed right at her head every time she went to take a shit or piss.

They reached the gates of the Horned Castle, which was built into a valley between mountains somewhere outside of Casterly Rock.

The people here were relatively the same as other castles, with the same scowls, smells, and dirty clothes. When they reached the inner walls, the personality of the Horned Castle became apparent. Most of the stonework was with a dark gray stone that matched the color of the horns well.

It was covered in sculptures of ram's horns, their statues of men with ram's horns coming from their heads. This family was known to produce great warriors, full of strength and stocky in build. They seemed to take that very seriously.

Once inside, the walls were lined with ram skulls, and it did the trick to make one respect the home. There was something so eerie about the dead animal's skull that seemed demonic, versus just the skull of a male sheep.

Lana constantly searched for an out. Her body was crusted with scabbed wounds from her scuffles with No One. She really didn't see a way out of this, except for predicting that Ellyn was No One the entire time. Although that was impossible now, and a month in the past.

The grip of a Faceless person was like that of a python with small prey – nearly impossible to escape. The best advise was to just avoid the animal in the first place.

The Faceless were unavoidable, however, as when they were trained, they could pretend to be anyone. They were anyone.

Lana breathed deeply as they walked the halls, holding her head high. She was ready for death. All assassins were to some degree. Of course Lana didn't want to die, but she was not unprepared to die in the line of her work either.

They were stopped by a short, thick man who informed them that Lord Morton Hornley was away visiting family, and that Lana was to wait in the dungeons. Lana rolled her eyes, as this journey to kill Lady Hornley, Morton's daughter, was diverging further and further from her original goal.

As Lana sat in the dungeons, No One frequently visited her, like a slow moving vulture waiting for its prey, never seeming to be impatient.

Two entire months had passed, making that three since she was last at King's Landing, before Lord Morton Hornley finally returned. Lana spent most of the time in her own soils, hungry, and looking off into the darkness, feeling pity for herself that her life was going to end this way.

Lord Morton let Lana wait, of course, for another week. No One said it was probably a game, but soon she would have to intervene, as the many-faced god needed his new face. Finally, Lana was pulled from the cells, smelling like shit, body odor, and disappointment. Although her pride remained with her.

She wouldn't die sniveling.

She remembered her childhood and the Lord of Light showing himself in the fires. There was more to this world, and that allowed her to walk with little fear as death guided her.

She just wished she had had a little longer. But, it was what it was.

The Lord's hall had more ram skulls adorning the halls, a giant chair with rounded edges, and a beautiful stone floor with large windows. A black ram was in the middle to represent their sigil animal.

They neared a man with onyx hair and a thick, healthy beard that showed many flecks of white throughout. He had the brown eyes of Lady Hornley, and the exact same almond eye shape and broad nose. "So, you killed my daughter," he said.

"Aye, I did," Lana said.

She hoped this wouldn't be the end of her.

" Why did she hire you?" he pressed, his fingers tapping on the table as the fire behind him silhouetted him.

Lana took in a slow breath, releasing it with a calmness that contrasted her disheveled appearance. "Your daughter, my lord, unfortunately, crossed a great Master, and her recklessness drove him to pay for her murder."

"What?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

Lana pursed her lips as she did not want to explain the nuances of his daughter's pour decisions. Lana spoke with impatience. "Well, let's it put this way, Lady Morganna Hornley was not traveling to Essos to taste fresh lemon cakes, my lord. Although, you could say she was there to get a specific taste of another kind," she said, raising her brow.

Lord Morton rose from his seat, his anger palpable even where Lana stood, and yet, she stared at him with tired, jaded eyes. He yelled, "You dare speak to me that way, about my daughter? That you murdered!"

"I was hired to do the job, my lord. It was not out of cold blood," Lana explained, ignoring the bait of his temper.

He took a moment to recompose himself and leaned back into his chair, pinching the bridge between his nose. "Go on, explain why he wanted her dead. I want the details," he said with irritation.

She took in a deep breathe, smelling her odor. "Well, there was a great Master there who took interest in your daughter. She took interest in him. Based on the information we gathered from the buyer, and from those around, it seems that your daughter promised him that he could become a lord of Westeros. I don't know why. She obviously never followed through with her promise, and when she left, she supposedly drugged him, plundered him, and sailed away with most of his goods. Turns out that was only from one of his houses, and it did not hurt him too terribly, but his pride was destroyed. He paid four our services to end her, both getting vengeance and sending a message to those around him."

He struggled with that news, his lips moving to form words, but never quite resting on one thing to say. After blinking incessantly he finally said, "Aside from that, which I don't even know if I can believe, why did you kill her?"

"Because I am a part of an organization that is paid to kill people."

"Why you? What did you do?" he asked, and she could see he was struggling to find words.

"I was chosen for my aptitude with poisons, which is how your daughter died."

"What poison?"

"A very lethal, very fast, concoction," she said, lying to him. She didn't need to explain the cruel ending that the Master paid for.

"Well one, I don't believe you. Morganna had her flaws, but she wasn't that idiotic. Second, because there is no way you are telling the truth, you still have to die, for the murder of my daughter."

Lana sighed, and said, "I really don't see why. Even if the stories on your daughter are false, we were still paid to kill her. I didn't murder her on my own volition. If anything, you'd want to kill the Master that paid for it."

"Can that be done?"

"I don't give a shit what happens to him," Lana said with a sardonic chuckle. She didn't bother warning him that Lord Morton could potentially start a dangerous altercation with the Masters in the East, but she didn't care about that either.

He looked to No One. "Can you kill the man who killed my daughter?"

"You have promised the many faced god with a face. As long as a face is given, a girl can kill anyone, for an extra cost."

"Extra?" he asked.

"I will need to borrow a new face for this one."

"Can you make his death last a long time?"

"I do not care how it is done," No One said.

Lana was about to yell out, pointing out the blatant hypocrisy of it all. But she bit her tongue. She might actually make it out of all of this.

"So why don't I just have one of my men cut your throat, and send the Faceless to Essos?" he asked, looking at Lana.

She held her breath, racking her brain for an answer.

Shit.

There was no reason. Save for one, and the longer she remained silent, the more she saw victory in his eyes.

"Because there is a mother of dragons in Essos, and killing me would greatly upset her."

He laughed. "Pardon, but why would she give a damn about you?"

"I am her half-sister."

He hooted as he laughed. "Alright, Emmery, cut her throat. She's so desperate-"

"I am not lying," she said, using a passion she had yet to use with him.

"Proof?" he asked flippantly.

"Put hot coals to my skin, set me on fire. I will not burn. Because dragons don't burn."

He nodded to the man that was coming over with his blade out. "Take a torch and hold it to her face."

He brought the flames over, slowly moving it to her face. She slowly blinked, fixing her gaze on Lord Morton. The fire was warm, but it never grew hot. She could feel the flames cleansing her face and hair that it touched, burning off the grime.

"As you can see," she said through the fire, Lord Morton blurring as the fire interrupted her vision. "I don't burn. Kill me, Lord Morton Hornley, and there will be consequences."