Work Text:
This is the stupidest goddamn idea he’s ever had.
Oh, sure, he's, you know, killed people before, but that doesn’t hold a freakin’ candle to the monumentally idiotic choice he's making at the moment. Besides, those jobs were… well. Just that. Jobs. Ways to make ends meet, and all that jazz.
(He never killed anyone who didn’t deserve it. He'd sworn that to himself a long time ago. Not that that helps ease his mind, mind you, but if anyone has to do the shit he does, it may as well be him.)
Anyways, his job is dangerous enough as it is. He knows that. He knows that, and he isn’t stupid enough to assume that he can take unnecessary risks just ‘cause he hasn’t been caught thus far.
Virgil glances behind himself to the hard, unassuming seat of his getaway carriage, his gaze lingering for a moment on the unconscious idiot in his backseat before he wrenches his focus back to the horses in front of him.
Prince Roman of Sande has done nothing to deserve being murdered, Virgil reflects with a grimace. And by god, is this going to bite him in the ass.