"I pray you burn in hell," he enunciated, a glare so deep on his face that it looked as if it had been carved into it.

"Damn your self-righteousness! Now I am to be plagued by you for all eternity by your godless blaspheme," came her sincere anger. "Leave the God to those who worship him."

"Don't even speak to me, cursed vessel of original sin," he commanded as he crossed the room to his bar, baring his back to her. "You've turned my paradise into a wasteland." Quickly, with vehemence, he tossed his drink down an open throat and turned, slamming the glass down with the force to crack it. A bit of liquid dribbled down his chin, clear save for a touch of brown, but his eyes were so wild and clear, so striking in their divine anguish that it was as if they were his only features; were those tears tingeing his lashes? "The only sorrow I ever felt here," he swore, "was dealt by your hands.

"Why won't you be human?"

Breath and words came but died in her throat and she sputtered, at an utter loss, silence ticking away at time. He was in earnest, resolute, she was gasping, gasping desperately – those damned pulchritudinous eyes! Why would they not unclench from her throat? Somehow, seven words, the only truth she could utter, pulled themselves from her constricted passages.

"How could you ask such a thing?"

"How could you be such a thing?" spat he in disgust, a tear, no more heed paid to it than that to a crushed insect, dropping hotly. "My first feelings toward you – terror! My last – blasted, cursed love! I'm destined to be and love a wretch, a sinful being whose layers could be pulled back seven on seven times and STILL I would not see all! Damnit!" A fist punched the wall and left its mark, both did. "Be human, damn you, just be human!"

"Be human, be human?" A measure of control had left her voice as she stepped ever nearer. "You demand that I be human? How can you demand such a hellacious, treacherous thing – would you kill yourself and this kingdom? God!" She threw up her hands and turned, for once exposing herself, head thrown back, shrieking at the sky. "That I could be human! Errare est humanus! Ha ha hah!" She turned, quick, unexpected; he jumped. "I can't afford to err, you fool! If God would allow me, I would! I cannot sleep, I cannot eat, I cannot relax, I cannot breathe! And what little, what very little, I am granted is TORTURED in ways you'll never conceive! I'm constantly pursued, harried from all sides, and what can I do since I am human? Nothing, not one thing! So in my bitter waking hours, no, I will NOT be human." With an effort, she grew still.

"Trust someone," he pleaded, hands out imploringly. "There are many men who would gladly keep your trust – who would die to keep it and spare you so much harm."

"And harm the State?" came the birdlike snap, swift. "Ha hah, even words taken to a confidant can find themselves unwittingly leaked to sharp ears.

"But what would you have me do, oh venerable traitor? Leap to your arms, drop my defenses, and be carried to your bed for a night of tender security? Ha!" More a bark than a laugh, her face twisted into something ugly, scornful. "I've never known tenderness, not that I can recall; what little I might have had is buried beneath a sea of betrayals so, while that treacherous piece that lingers in my breast would gladly come to you," unexpected softness tempered her words before swiftly being taken up again by the imperviousness of her will, "All that I am denies your physique and form. So I command you, devil-prince of all temptations, to burn in your 'security'." Turning on her heel, she left him, he undone.