"No, I am not a foreigner, however, my parents are immigrants. They shifted here from the French Republic just before the civil war. I am an Etherian citizen by birth."
Edward realized the reason for her reaction, the question put her mind through to the harrowing memory of the past.
"I'm sorry."
It was a normal reaction; the immigrants suffered the worst during the war. The country had pushed them down and blamed them for their problems.
"Can I know your name?"
"It's Isabella." her tone was polite, but she didn't show any signs of forgiveness towards Edward.
"Misses Isabella, I am Edward. I am appointed worker at the king's palace. I'm sorry if I have hurt your feelings with my words."
"It's not your fault by any means, Sir. Besides, I have gotten so hearing that it does not hurt me anymore." she stroked her hair with her hand.
"..."
The glove she wore got struck on it and displayed at a small part of her hand.
"Curse them."
The words came out his mouth, the burn mark and scar were visible, nobody wants to ever see scars on their body, nobody even Edward.
He was sure the scars still brought pain to her whenever she saw them.
She quickly snuck her hand back into the glove and began rubbing her feared eyes, her breathing was a bit out of control but she quickly gained her composure before Edward could say anything.
She lowered her head and began speaking once again.
"Excuse me, Mr Edward. Can I ask you a small question?"
"Yes, Sure."
"Were you a part of the revolutionary force or the royal army during the civil war?"
Isabella's face was filled with caution while asking that question as if she was testing him about something.
"I was a part of the revolutionary army but not a combat unit just ran supplies from here and there, I soon left the kingdom soon before the war reached the climax."
"I see."
Isabella's face released a bit and she began asking her next question,
"Have you ever killed a person?"
Edward had expected this, the lady was writing about the guilt of war criminals in her book but she found no idea about what to write, so she is asking Edward.
"I have, in fact, I have killed people much more than you have ever met in your life. I fought in more countries than any person born in this country has visited."
"I see. What is the feeling that comes to your mind after killing someone?"
"That's really straightforward."
Edward didn't give the reply right away, he was trying to understand the mentality of the woman in front of him.
"A.a..a."
Isabella began to stammer, her eyes went all over the place and her hands were shivering it was almost as if Edward was about to attack her.
"So, as I was saying about your question..."
As to calm her down Edward began speaking so Isabella would jump out of her painful thoughts.
".... Killing someone is not easy for most but it's all in the mind. When I killed someone first, I cried even though I did not meet that person ever in my life. It is a rush of emotion, it changes the way you think."
Isabella was carefully hearing and noting down what Edward was saying, her hands were carefully writing down everything, and all the tension and pain from a second ago had vanished.
"But people do pay the price for killing others don't they?"
"No, I've seen many people die happy when they killed hundreds and hundreds of families, some do but many don't they think it's fair because it's war, and they must kill or get killed. The price of killing comes down sooner or later, maybe on the person or his future generations."
Isabella spotted stroking her pen, she swayed her hair once again, before going to her next question.
"Have you paid your price?"
"I didn't but somebody else did for me."
"..."
" My wife, she paid all that I needed to. I lost my wife to war a few years before the war ended. My daughter got separated from me and I haven't seen her since. She and my daughter paid for the killing I have done."
Isabella did not write that down her eyes were showing tears, and she was really sad.
"Do you think killing someone feels like a scar?"
"It does a permanent one. The scar is a weight that I carry on myself but the scars also make it possible for one to go further. The ones without any scars die young, for those who learn to enjoy these scars are the cruellest and most dangerous. they are animals-"
Edward suddenly interpreted Isabella's words who was quietly listening up until now.
"I didn't know you would say that.."
Isabella's tears were flowing down her cheeks but a smile had also crept up her face.
"I didn't think you would call me an animal? Mr Edward."
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