When you turned down the contract for the life of the princess, you knew that there would be others to accept it. While researching the contractor you infiltrated the castle, just in time to see a fake guard sneaking into her royal bedchamber in the middle of the night.

As the body of the wannabe assassin slides from your dagger to the ground, the princess wakes and draws the wrong conclusion instantly. From under her pillow she draws a dagger, glancing up at you defiantly.

"You killed that guard!" She hisses in quiet rage. "Coming for me will be your last mistake! I'm not afraid of you!"

She recognises the mask and her eyes widen as she wonders if it actually is the infamous Night Angel in her bedroom or just an imposter. She draws in a deep breath, clearly intending to call for her guards.

She freezes at your finger to her lips, shocked that you would dare silence her. Then again... You've killed two guards tonight already. Her fear turns to confusion and anger as she struggles against the urge to trust you or defend herself. She glances around the room, realizing how vulnerable she is without her guards.

With a trembling hand, she reluctantly lowers her dagger. "Why did you...?" she whispers, barely able to form the words as rage and embarrassment war within her. "Why did you save me?"

Her eyes narrow suspiciously at the assassin's words. "Personal reasons?" she repeats incredulously. "You're willing to risk your life for my sake, and you expect me to believe it's not part of some twisted game? Or a ploy to get close to the throne?"

Her hand tightens on the dagger's hilt, anger rising as she realizes that even though the assassin has saved her life this time, she can't entirely trust him. "You know what I am," she says quietly, almost to herself. "The Black Rose."

Her anger surges at your casual tone and familiarity with her bedroom. "You have no right to be here!" she spits out, trying to reassert some control over the situation. She glances around again, wondering if there's anything nearby she could use as a weapon against you. "Who are you? Why have you been following me all these years?"

Her breath quickens as the implications of your words sink in. Princess Carina, with her hands shaking, looks at you, beseeching you for answers that you seem intent on keeping secret.

She freezes at your words. The last time she'd called someone her friend had been so long ago... before she'd become the Black Rose, a symbol of duty and responsibility. For a moment, she allows herself to forget who she is supposed to be. "Friends?" she repeats tentatively, hope flickering in her eyes despite herself.

But then reality sets back in, like a cold wind through an open window. She draws away from you, trying to put distance between your bodies as well as the truth of who she is now. "We can't be friends," she says quietly, the denial tasting bitter on her tongue. "Not anymore."

She shakes her head, confused and conflicted. The mask you wear makes it impossible for her to recognize you beneath it. "I don't know who you are," she says at last, her voice tight with fear and uncertainty. "But I can't let myself trust someone like you." Tears well in her eyes as she glances down at the dagger still clutched in her hand. "Please leave me alone..."

Her heart stops as she sees your face beneath the mask. It's him... She knows it instantly, even though they've only ever met once before. Her breath catches in her throat as their eyes meet, his crimson orbs mirroring hers. "You..." is all she can manage to say.

Butterflies dance a wild waltz in her stomach, threatening to overwhelm her with emotions she thought she'd long since locked away. She remembers the feel of your touch, the sound of your voice... All the things that had made her forget who she was supposed to be and become something more. Something real.

She swallows thickly, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights as you stare at her with an expression she can't quite read. "Why are you here?" she whispers, barely audible above the pounding of her heart.

She shivers, feeling small and exposed under your piercing gaze. "They were hired to kill me," she whispers, her voice hoarse with emotion. "Many have tried since I rejected all their proposals for marriage." She forces a bitter laugh, trying to mask the fear that still lurks beneath her composure. "I suppose it's my own fault for being so stubborn..."

Tears begin to slide down her cheeks as she finally allows herself to show some of her true vulnerability. "No matter how many times I save myself," she whispers, her voice barely audible, "it seems there is always someone who wants to make me pay for my choices." She meets your gaze once more, searching for understanding in your eyes. "Do you ever feel like that?"

She holds her breath, waiting for your response. Waiting to see if she's truly found someone who understands the bur

She stares at you in wonder as you speak, her heart racing with hope and fear. "You'll protect me?" she whispers, hardly daring to believe the words are real. She takes a tentative step closer, feeling an unfamiliar urge to reach out to you, to touch your hand or arm. "But why? Why would you do that?"

Embarrassment flares in her chest as she remembers all the stories she'd heard about you over the years. Stories of an assassin so lethal they were only known by their name, never to be seen. It seemed impossible that someone like that could care about her or want to help her. But then again, maybe it wasn't.

With trembling hands, she reaches out and places them on your shoulders, feeling the solidity of you beneath her fingertips. "I... I don't know how to thank you,"

She stares at you, her eyes widening as she takes in your words. The lump in her throat grows larger with each passing second, making it difficult to speak. "C-care about me?" she finally manages to stammer, trying to wrap her head around the idea that someone like you could feel such a thing for her.

With shaking hands, she lifts one of hers to your cheek, her skin tingling as their warmth meets yours. "But why?" she whispers softly, her voice little more than a breath. "What could I possibly mean to you? I've been nothing but a target for assassins and traitors since my father made me his heir." Tears stream down her face unchecked as she gazes at you with a mix of confusion and hope that threatens to undo everything she thought she knew about herself.

Her hand trembles as it rests on your cheek, feeling the rough texture of your skin beneath her fingertips. She can't tear her eyes away from you, and yet she knows that what she is feeling cannot be real. How could someone like him, an assassin so lethal he was a legend in his own time... how could he care about her? "I-I..." she stammers, struggling to find the words.

She bites her lip, trying to keep herself together as emotions she'd long since locked away threaten to overwhelm her. "But you're not even supposed to be here," she whispers, hating the tremor in her voice. "It's too dangerous for both of us."

Her heart races with fear and desire as she considers the implications of your words. Did he mean what he said about loving her? Or was it all just a lie

Her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red at your words as she presses her lips together to hide the grin spreading across them. "I-I wasn't flustered," she stammers, trying to sound cool and collected when clearly she is anything but. She looks up into your eyes, searching for some sign that you believe her too, wanting so badly for this all to be real. But the mask covers most of your face, obscuring any hint of emotion except for the amusement dancing in your red orbs.

With a shaky breath, she finally says what's been on her mind since he first walked into her bedroom. "Would it... would it be safe to see you again?"