Nicholas
Mozi'ach Blutgerinnsel
Ludmilla's Home, Azarya

He covers his face in his hands, his body slowly racked with sobs. "I don't want to do this anymore." He leaned against her. "Why must I torture myself so?"

A solution unfolds for him. A crazy, out there solution, but it could work. It would require the planning over the span of three days and meticulous wording for the nobles, but it would work.
Wendie
Ludmilla Monette
Ludmilla's Home

Ludmilla watches with wide eyes. What has she gotten herself into? This is more than she expected, she thought she would host them for a night, and now, well, she invited an emotional breakdown in her living room? 

Ludmilla continued comforting him, but with anxious thoughts clouding her mind. She spoke, but wasn't really sure what she was saying. It all just kind of came out, reactive instead of responsive. "You don't have to, you can get out of this, stay here and hide from them for a while." All of this was said slowly, spread out between his sobs as she rubbed his back comfortingly. 

She wondered what this would lead to, was he really going to give up his life as a an executioner? It surprised her, because he had seemed so steady and strong before in his job. She supposed, however, things were never exactly as they seemed. That life he led must have been very taxing.
Nicholas
Mozi'ach Blutgerinnsel
Ludmilla's Home, Azarya

He muttered soft apologies, and so many thank you's. He wiped his tears away, standing up. "Where is the washroom?" After she had shown him the way, he retrieved a razor, unfolding it and inspecting the fine edge. 

He went to the washroom, examining his own face before beginning to shave. Then— He came out, covering his nose and cheek, then he wrapped the wound close with bandages. When she would question him for cutting across his face, he muttered. "Easier to hide the face. Easier to be mistaken as someone else."