I am a rogue and rogues have secrets enough. My secrets are kept to hide my deepest truth, a truth so shameful I could never speak of it even to my most loved. I confess, tis no crime I have committed nor is it some horrible deed I happened upon. Tis my very name that shames me.
A name is but a word spoken by a mother or father when a child is born. Tis a simple title given to a child with little barring on the soul. Meh. A name can mean so much when a child bares a hated father's name. It can be so telling yet such a lie.
I am nothing like him! I will never be anything like him. I refuse to be, and somehow… somehow I feel that in my desperate struggle, I only become more like him everyday.
He is my enemy; that should count for some small thing. I did not honestly mean for such a thing to happen. I only meant to disappear, but vanishing when one bares a mark such as mine is no easy task. Believe you me, I have tried many times, but I am always found and by my father's most distinguished foes no less.
They have no idea who I truly am… Or, at least I hope they have no suspicion. Trust can be a fragile thing, as delicate as a baby's breath. It can be broken with a touch, and shattered with a word. I have no desire to lose the trust they have in me, the trust he has in me. My name could stop his heart….
I burry my true name beneath my secrets and the false brands I choose. Perhaps some day even I shall forget my true name. Until that day I am ever a rogue, and I shall have my secret.