You don't know why they're making you do this.
'Kill the prince', they said, 'doing so will spare your life, do otherwise, and you'll be hunted down like a pack of deer.'
You don't want to, but you have to.
Or they will kill you too.
Just like the others who tried, and failed.
But you know the prince, you both grew up together. That's why they chose you.
Because he trusts you.
Because he wouldn't even think of you trying to kill him.
You wait very many long nights and days, hiding in corridor alcoves, hoping he would pass by.
Days and days pass, concealed, with a sharpened dagger in your bodice.
Until just as you thought your luck was about to run out, he walked past. What he was doing out in the corridors, so late at night, you have no idea, but you take your chance.
You walk out, and softly call his name, keeping your hand very close to your hidden dagger.
He turns around, and when he recognizes you, he smiles.
Your heart pangs with guilt and sorrow.
He walks towards you, stopping only an arm's length away from you.
You can see his eyes and every detail on his face.
He has dark blue eyes, like a stormy sea, and black hair the color of charcoal.
You greet him, your smiling face like a mask, covering up the despair for what you would have to do.
Quietly talking to him, as to not bring attention from guards passing in the dead of the night, you lightly slip your dagger under your sleeve.
He laughs at something you said, and gestures for you both to walk around a courtyard together.
You smile and walk with him. You pass a corner, and you stop, put your hands on his shoulders, and lightly kiss him.
He kissed you back with suppressing gentleness, and your heart beats loudly.
Not from the kiss, but for what you must do.
You take out the dagger and quickly hold it against his neck.
He pulls away from the kiss, surprise, and betrayal beginning to cloud his eyes.
A single tear starts to roll down your cheek. "I'm sorry, your Highness."
But you can't pull the blade, because he gently grabbed your wrist.
"You don't have to do this," he mutters to you.
But he doesn't understand.
If you don't kill him, they would kill you.
You shake off his hand. But you still can't do it. Something inside of you is holding you back.
His eyes are filled with pity towards you.
You drop the dagger, grief shaken.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
And you run off into the night.