The war with France had been over for quite some time, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t still work to be done. Threats to the English crown remained, and it was up to him to silence them. The goggles he had on were borrowed from MI6, and the filters in the lenses made it so he could see as easily in the night as he could the day, which made running especially easier. He hadn’t meant it to end this way, and he wasn’t sure if his lungs were hurting more than his own heart, though the mission was a success it was the cost that was making him question whether or not it was worth it, and now he was being hunted by a woman he had scorned. His love, his flower, his Dalia.