The following is an excerpt of content I’m considering for inclusion in my manuscript draft.  In re-reading the manuscript, I found what I think is an unaddressed plot point should be filled to maintain coherence and consistency.  See what you think.

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Surrounded by an escort of the horsemen of King Alric’s Royal Guard, Larah
and Riasean rode for an hour before she broke the silence. “So, you are an
assassin?”

Riasean gripped the reins of his horse tighter. Before sending them on their
way, Alric had revealed their occupations to each other, much to his annoyance.
There’s no point denying it now. “Yes,” he admitted.

“How did that happen – I mean, how do you find yourself in the business of
killing people?”

Where to begin? Best keep it simple and as close to honest as he
could. “One has to do whatever it takes to survive – in my case, growing up in
Tamor, it was simple – kill or be killed.”

Larah remained silent.

He pursed his lips, thinking of a way to break the awkward silence. “Since
the subject came up, how did you become a druid?”

“I’ve always been one. I was born in Avalon and have spent my whole
childhood training to be a Druid.”

“So you had no choice?”

“I suppose I did, but there was never any doubt for me.” She paused before
looking at him. “Have you considered doing anything else?”

Does a viper ever wish to be his prey? “I never had any reason to,
for I am good at what I do, and it pays well.”

She frowned, “But killing people… .”

He turned away. She didn’t understand and could never understand what he did
and why. Taking a life was nothing more than a job, one with little tolerance
for failure, for it meant death.

She stared ahead and added, “I could never kill someone.”

He turned and placed a hand on her arm. “I hope you never do because you
lose something you can never get back.” So what did that make him? An empty
shell? But like a shooting star, the realization of why the Caretaker had
paired them crossed his mind. He was a knife without a conscience, for whom
delivering death or dying, as a result, was inconsequential. Yet, in their
quest, he was assured she could retrieve the Grail without losing her inner
light.

She studied him as he thought this. “Why do you stare at me so? What are you
thinking?”

With a final squeeze, he let go of her arm. “I was just thinking that maybe
you are rubbing off on me. You make me want to be a better person.”

A broad smile crossed her face as she turned away with reddened cheeks.

He felt bad for embarrassing her – for what he said was, for the most part,
accurate – but only in the sense that he didn’t want her to become less than
she was. Flowers get picked and trampled upon by ogres with good
intentions. He committed to protecting her as best he could from such
beasts, but the thought never occurred to consider including himself.