She was on the edge today. The moment she saw a black crow sitting outside her window, a sense of unease crept up on her, and she wondered briefly if her sins had finally caught up to her.

She knew her hunch was right when she heard someone knocking at her door. I am off-duty today, for I had claimed today as one of my rest days from Valesque. Nobody should be disturbing me today, not even at nine in the morning. I should be free of duty especially since everyone respects one another's rest day in the Ascendancy Agency.

She remembered seeing her announcement of her rest day pinned on the noticeboard, and therefore there should be no knocks on her door. The only reason this could be happening was either because of, firstly, they found out that she was the real traitor instead of the late Jonek Jonjej. Two, the Agency had their suspicions but weren't certain about them, so they had sent someone to pick her up for interrogation.

Gazing at herself in the mirror, at her graceless form and attire, Tania decided that before she resigned to her fate, she would die in her best presentation- elegant, demure and a sight for sore eyes.

There is no way I am going to appear as a slob even if I am meant to be interrogated today.

Sucking in a deep breath, Tania mussed her hair up even more and rolled around the bed in the hopes that more creases and wrinkles would appear on her nightdress before she proceeded to open the door.

"Hi Tania, I am here to- oh. Did I wake you up?"

Tania made a show of yawning loudly as she stretched her arms. "Sorry, I just woke up. What's up, Maren? You're here at 9am... are you here to invite me for breakfast with you and Alara or something? Let me clean up first-"

Maren coughed and cleared his throat. "Tania. I'm actually here for a very serious reason, but I suggest you clean yourself up first. Then meet me at the library, okay?"

A very serious reason, he had said. I guess I was right after all.

Nodding her head in silence, she closed the door shut before Maren could say anything else. I deserve to go down. But I'm going down in the luxury and class I never had.

Her only regret was that if she was right about how this was about to go down, her dear friend, Alara, would be utterly crushed by her confession. And that was the last thing she honestly wanted- she had never wanted to hurt her, never wanted to ruin the precious treasure of a person that was Alara Berrera.

Looking at a photograph of Alara and her beaming, their hands wrapped around each other, faking a kiss, a tear slipped out of her eye. Her heart clenched, and for a moment, she entertained the thought of lying to avoid breaking her friend's delicate heart. Alara was someone who had been betrayed and hurt time and time again, and she had no wish to do the same to her.

The thought left as fleetingly as it had come. She had made her decision, and was determined to stick by it.

Diamonds are known for their durability, and for their hardness- they were so tough that only another diamond could scratch it. I want to be like a diamond, to be only affected by myself and not by others.

For centuries, diamonds were regarded as the epitome of class and decadence, and to Tania de Allura, it was only natural for her to be perceived as such when she was able to. That was the sole reason for why she had chosen an elegant grey lace dress that exuded extravagance.

Intricate floral designs were sewn in on the top of the dress, and she had added an accessory of a sash embedded with pearls and diamonds to be used as a belt. The finishing touch was the small diamonds embedded on a thick layer of tulle edges of her dress's illusion neckline, for it gave off the impression that she was wearing a diamond necklace when she was not. Paired off with a pair of simple gold heels, Tania was ready for her interrogation.

Like the diamonds, I will shine and ooze brilliance even when Death comes for me.

In my next life, I will be unconquerable.

Compared to the stunning vision that was Tania de Allura, he looked like a sack of potatoes for he was clothed in a plain shirt and a pair of pants, he felt underdressed. On anyone else, Tania's curious choice of clothing to her interrogation would have looked like they were trying too hard, but Tania, ever the beauty, pulled it off in a way that no one could.

Knowing Tania, he knew the reason for her choice of such a luxurious dress. She had resigned to her fate, and seemed to think that she was to be executed during the interrogation, which was something that really disappointed him. If she's giving up so early on the game, this can only mean one thing. She is, as Valesque and Alara had rightfully suspected, the real traitor of the Agency. She was the culprit who framed Jonek, and caused him his untimely death.

Maren took in a deep breath to calm himself, and donned on a mask of calm.

"So, you're wearing armour to the battlefield of the minds, eh?"

"So are you, Maren. A mask of calm to hide your true feelings." Tania counter-attacked, in a soft voice. "Do you despise me, Maren? We were once friends- or are we still friends? Tell me, Maren: why the mask?"

"Your armour tells me so much, Tania. That you think you will die. You know better than I as to what this is implying to me right now."

He felt drained suddenly, and wished for nothing but to leave Verum Seri- the official name for the interrogation room.

Tania remained silent.

A silence that he could not afford to have. "Let's get this over with. I need to know where your true loyalties lie, Tania. Personally, I had always believed that you were innocent, and my trust in you had always been unfaltering. Never did the thought of 'Tania de Allura is a double-agent' cross my mind. Never, for I felt that I had known you for too long and that you are the least likely of people to do something as heinous as this.

Until now." Maren paused for effect, for his words to sink in. He knew that it had worked the way he intended it to when his friend avoided his gaze and hung her head. Was it in shame? Or in remorse? Or to simply avoid looking at me, for fear that I'll see the undeniable guilt in her eyes?

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, and Maren coughed and continued. "So, for the sake of my sanity, for the sake of our friendship, tell me the truth. Please."

"Very well. I will, Maren. Honestly, I had long suspected that this would happen sooner or later." Her tone was unlike her usual light-hearted one; this one was resigned and tinged with regret.

"You did?" he said, taken aback.

"I've known this ever since how disastrously Operation Ner ended. As cliche as it is, I knew that the classic agency-spy thing where when something goes catastrophically wrong, everyone will rightfully make a huge fuss over this. This type of event often ends up distrusting friends they'd known for years." Though she recited this in a flippant manner, her eyes could not meet his.

It was obvious that though she was trying her best to construct a believable pretense of being uncaring and cold, she was obviously pained that everything had come to this and that she was now wearing a carefully placed mask to avoid crying.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Maren gently patted her back and her eyes conveyed a foreign emotion that he had not seen before. As passed as quickly as it materialised.

"Let's begin the interrogation."