When entering his cabin, Haytham sitting on his chair reading a book wouldn’t be an unwelcome sight. The problem comes from what he’s reading: his journal.

Haytham lifts his eyes from the text and closes the book lazily. The noise made by pages hitting each other shouldn’t be so loud, yet it seems to echo through the small room. So does Haytham’s voice: “Thank you so much for writing this. I love your characterisation.”

Shay can’t believe he just- no, he can. Haytham would. Still. “You… What gave you the right!”

“You’re at fault for letting what you wanted kept secret lying around for anyone to see. Especially when some might use it to question your loyalty. So much sentiment, so many emotions for the murderer of our allies. Tell me, do you think you could change him, that he could be swayed?”

Shay does hate this ability of Haytham to always know where to hit to make it hurt. “Of course not. There’s nothing to salvage. He is our enemy.”

The silence stretches as Haytham stares at him before answering. “Good of you to acknowledge it. Might I remind you left the Assassins behind, with all those involved. This endless rehashing of what could have been serves no one, least of all the Order.”

There’s something in his tone… “You’re speaking from experience, aren’t you?”

“We all left people behind in our quest for order. We have to trust it’s worth it, or we’ll be finished.” Steel both in his voice and on his face. Haytham has deemed the subject closed. At least his deflection worked.

Haytham throws the book at him. “Be more careful next time.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”