Corvo Attano's funeral was near as grand as any emperor's. A procession of guards and carriages took him through the city to his final resting place, and crowds of people lined the streets to say their farewells.

Jessamine led the proceedings well, making her appearance and addressing the public with all the grace required of her, keeping her head held high.

Grief was a dagger in her heart, but she knew that an empress could only mourn quietly, privately. There would be murmurs among those at court no matter how she reacted, old rumors given new life and whispered back and forth once again, but she had learned how best to manage them by now. The depth of her sorrow, like the depth of her affection, would be kept close to her heart.

The one thing she could not ignore, amongst all the other talk and gossip, was the speculation on who would take Corvo's place as her Protector. There was pressure to choose quickly, a pressure she understood, no matter how the thought made her ache. There was a reason the selection process took so long and began so early. A rushed decision would be difficult even without the impossibility of replacing Corvo.

Her father's Royal Protector, the fiercely intimidating Lady Adelia, had emerged from retirement to fill the role in the intervening days and weeks. Jessamine had been frightened of her as a child, but her familiar presence now was an incredible comfort, though she knew it could not be a permanent solution. Adelia was an old woman now, and though age may not have dulled her instincts any, it had certainly dulled her reflexes. Even a reputation as impressive as hers – after several assassination attempts, it had been illness that eventually took Euhorn Kaldwin, something not even the finest Royal Protector stood a chance of defeating – could only go so far in deterring an attack.

Jessamine's advisors and courtiers were already beginning to put forth their favored candidates.

She remembered all too well what it had been like the first time, noble families pushing their well-bred sons and daughters with their well-pressed uniforms and their gleaming, well-polished medals and pins. And then there had been Corvo, quiet and modest and with no one to vouch for him, nothing to recommend him but the incredible skill that had sent him to the Tower in the first place.

No one had much liked her choice back then. She wondered how they would criticize her decision this time.

"Your Majesty, if I could have a brief moment of your time?"

Jessamine did her best to keep the frown from her face as she turned around, though it was her natural inclination when conversing with Hiram Burrows. It wasn't that she particularly disliked the man – he'd been at the Tower since her father's day, and she never had any complaints about the work he did – but she often found him challenging to deal with. They fundamentally disagreed on a great many issues, and she didn't care for the overly patient and patronizing tone he often took on when attempting to change her mind.

"Of course." She fixed herself with a carefully blank expression and nodded. "What is it you need?"

"It's more on the subject of what you need," he said, and his tone and slow smile already had her slipping back into a frown. "I have… something of an unconventional suggestion for replacing your late Royal Protector."

That surprised her. Burrows had opinions on nearly everyone and shared them freely, but he hadn't recommended any candidates last time, and she wasn't expecting that to change. She nodded again, slowly. "You know I always welcome your advice. I'm happy to meet with whoever you have in mind."

Burrows smiled again and gave a short bow. He gestured to the guard at the door, who turned swiftly to pull it open.

A man was led into the room, one nervous-looking guard in front of him and another following close after. He was in a rough state, his dark hair disheveled, his clothes dirty and torn and stained with blood. There was fresh bruising visible around his head and neck, but the long scar over his eye looked much older.

Jessamine recognized him immediately, a face she'd seen etched out in careful portrait from meetings with the head of her Guard, from criminal posters presented for her approval and hung up throughout the city. She drew herself up, forcing down a flutter of fear in her heart, and shot a displeased look toward the Spymaster. "Why have you brought this man here?"

"I did say it was an unconventional idea." His smile grew wider. He was entertained by her discomfort.

She pinned him with a steady, unamused gaze, but the smile failed to disappear. "Then I'm sure you're prepared to explain your reasoning," she prompted.

"Yes, of course," he said, clearing his throat. He straightened up and linked his hands behind his back. "There are two important things to consider when choosing a Royal Protector: their physical skill, obviously, but also their political value. Unfortunately, I don't believe we can count on gaining any political value this time. I'm sure some families would still be honored to have their candidate chosen, but others may take offense to coming second to such an… unusual choice as Corvo. He did a fine job, of course, but you know how delicate certain members of your court can be. It would be best to simply choose the most skilled fighter, one who can best defend you in these uncertain times."

Jessamine kept her face neutral, though her nails dug into her palms and anger burned in her heart, at the audacity of Burrows' suggestion, at the flippant way he spoke of Corvo, at how she knew, with uncomfortable certainty, that he was right about the politics of the situation. She crossed her arms, letting her nails dig into her sleeves instead. "So, you recommend to me Dunwall's most notorious killer? A man whose blade can be so easily bought and sold?"

"I understand your misgivings," he said, raising a placating hand, "but I have very good reason to believe he will cooperate fully. Related to some of my ongoing work, I'm afraid, so I can't divulge too much detail, but I'm quite certain he can be trusted for this."

She turned her attention doubtfully to the man in question. Daud, the Knife of Dunwall, the assassin her very best people had been hunting unsuccessfully for years. She wondered what had finally led to his capture and what could possibly have Burrows so convinced that his loyalty could be secured.

Daud met her stare easily and held it, a deep scowl creasing his face, and she shuddered and looked away.

"As always, I will take your advice into consideration," she said, turning back to Burrows. "For now, I would ask you to remove this man from the Tower and leave me to think."

"Very well, Your Majesty. I do hope you come to a decision soon. I know it makes many of us uneasy to think of you improperly protected for so long." He gave another short bow and led the way out of the room.

Jessamine sighed into the sudden quiet, letting herself relax, the aching tension in her shoulders easing a little with the unwelcome company gone. "What could he possibly be thinking?" she muttered to herself.

"I'm sure Burrows has his own reasons, as he always does, but I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss his idea."

Jessamine shot a puzzled frown over her shoulder to where Adelia was leaning against the wall, looking thoughtful. "You believe the assassin is trustworthy?"

"No," she said with a quick shake of her head. "I believe he's a killer at heart, nothing more. But that may be what you need right now."

"What do you mean?"

"People thought Corvo unbeatable and you untouchable because of that. Now that he's gone and that's been proved untrue, someone looking to strike at you will see whoever replaces him as an easier opponent." She paused and gave a shrug. "It might not be a terrible idea to give Corvo's title to the only man on the Isles who might've been able to best him."

"Then he would be your recommendation?"

"This is a decision only you can make. You didn't follow anyone else's guidance the first time, and I wouldn't expect you to start now. My recommendation is that you consider every option carefully."

Adelia was right that Burrows always had his own reasons for his actions. Jessamine rarely knew what they were, but she trusted him to have the Empire's best interests at heart, even when they disagreed on how best to get there. If he had reason to believe such a man could be trusted with this, then she did as well, and that made him as valid as any other candidate.

Jessamine closed her eyes and considered.

There were a few prison cells located in the old dungeons beneath Dunwall Tower. They were relics of bygone days, now used mostly for storage and to hold the occasional unruly noble who had indulged too much during a state dinner and had to be contained until they could be poured into their coach and taken home. Jessamine doubted if these walls had ever held anyone as dangerous as the Knife of Dunwall, even during the peak of the Morley Insurrection.

She approached the only occupied cell warily, though the heavy iron door was securely locked and guarded by three men. There was also, separate from the guard detail, an Overseer standing nearby, turning a crank to play some strange, unsettling music from the device strapped to his chest. She wondered if this was meant to be some form or torture or interrogation. The eerie sound made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and it certainly seemed to be giving their prisoner a headache, at the very least.

"Enough of that," she said, waving a hand toward the Overseer.

The turning of the crank slowed but did not stop, warping the already twisted tune. The Overseer protested hesitantly, "I've been directed to continue – "

"And your Empress is directing you to stop. Does that order not supersede your previous commands?"

His hand stilled, and he backed away, bowing as deeply as he could manage around the music device.

"Thank you," Jessamine said briskly. She waved the remaining guards to either side as she came to stand directly in front of the cell. "Daud."

He was already looking up at her, meeting her eye steadily and without hesitation. He had a hand pressed to his temple, massaging out the ache from the strange music, and he wore the same scowl as when they had met earlier. "Your Majesty," he said drily.

There was an impressive dignity to him for a man in a cage. He showed no sign of fear, only contempt and irritation, as though his captivity and her presence here were both mild inconveniences. Jessamine crossed her arms and lifted her chin, drawing herself up to her full regal posture to address him. "You're one of the worst criminals Dunwall has ever seen. The Watch and the Overseers have both been hunting you for years. I doubt you have any great love or loyalty for the Crown."

The corner of his mouth twisted up in grim amusement. "No."

"And yet my Spymaster has recommended you for the job of protecting me. He believes you can be trusted to cooperate. Why is that?"

Daud leaned back, resting his head against the rough stone of his cell wall. "My home was ambushed," he told her, "most of my Whalers killed, and the few survivors imprisoned. I can't reclaim what I once had, and your Spymaster believes I'll see this as a better alternative to execution or a life spent in hiding."

"And is he correct?"

"I'm very aware of my circumstances right now."

Jessamine stared. If it was an answer at all, it was a vague one, and they both knew it. She sighed and shook her head, letting the stiff set of her shoulders droop. She stepped forward, reaching out to place a hand on one of the cold, metal bars of his prison cell. "How could I possibly come to trust you?" she asked, her voice soft.

"You can't," he answered bluntly. "In your position, Empress of the Isles, you shouldn't trust anyone, not if you want to stay alive." He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he looked her in the eye. "But when I'm hired for a job, I do it well."

She continued to hold the stare for several long, searching moments, but in the end, she was the first to turn away. She gestured for one of the guards to approach. "Go and relay a message to the Royal Spymaster and the Head of the Guard. Tell them I've made my decision."