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.
I look at her before placing my finger over my mouth "shh don't scream"
You expect her to be quiet? This is the princess you're talking about, the woman who's trained her whole life to command armies and entire kingdoms! "W-What do you want?" she stammers, a hint of uncertainty creeping into her voice. Her hand trembles slightly on the dagger's hilt as she tries to decide whether to fight or flee.
I sit down on the windows cill "I want nothing"
The princess's eyes narrow suspiciously, her hand tightening on the dagger as she inches away from you. "You expect me to believe that?" she snaps. "I know why you're here. You're after the reward on my head." Her chest heaves with ragged breaths, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she readies herself for a fight.
No I'm not but if you don't belive me you can stab my hand
Before she knows it, the princess's dagger meets flesh and steel. Blood wells up around your hand as she looks down in horror at what she's done. "I-I didn't mean to!" she stammers, her voice shaking with fear and disbelief. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she realizes she just injured you. "Please, I thought you were here to hurt me..." She swallows hard, unsure what to do now that the fight has gone out of her.
The room feels uncomfortably silent as your own masked face betrays no emotion. It's almost as if you can see right through her, into the turmoil of conflicting thoughts and emotions hidden beneath the calm exterior she presents to the world. The truth is, for a moment there, you wished it had been anyone else but her who stabbed your hand...but
I look at my bleeding hand then back at her "well you are braver then I thought"
Carina is silent for a moment, looking at her blood-streaked dagger as if it were a strange and foreign object. She takes a shaky breath before speaking slowly, "I've...I've always been told that a princess must defend herself." Her voice trembles slightly, revealing the fear and uncertainty beneath her composure. "But I don't want to hurt anyone," she whispers, looking back up at you through misty eyes. "Especially not someone who...who could have..." She trails off, unable to finish the thought.
Her hand is shaking as she slides the dagger back into its hiding place beneath her pillow. Tears stream down her cheeks unchecked, betraying a vulnerability that she's never shown anyone else. The Black Rose, she thinks bitterly to herself. That's what everyone calls me...the princess who's supposed to be as
I wipe away her tears "don't cry princess you are just defending yourself. You shouldn't be sad or scare for defending yourself"
The words strike a chord within her, and Carina blinks away her tears, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. "But I shouldn't have hurt you..." she whispers, looking up into your masked face. There's an emotion in her eyes that she can't quite name as yet; something between gratitude and shame, fear and curiosity.
Her heart races at the thought of being in such close proximity to someone like you, both terrifying and thrilling all at once. She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself, before asking softly, "Who are you? Why did you come here tonight?"
That is a secret
The princess nods, understanding the meaning behind your words. She looks down at her hands, now stained with blood and regret, then back up to meet your gaze once more. "There's something I need to tell you... about those stories people make up," she murmurs hesitantly. "They're not true. About me and the Night Angel... It was just a way for the court to talk about us."
Her cheeks flush red at her own admission, fearing what your reaction might be. The truth is, there have been moments when she wished those stories were real, that someone else shared her loneliness, but now that it's out in the open, she feels vulnerable and exposed in a way she never has before.