Villain

4.Familiar Face

I found myself unable to sleep, my mind in overdrive over the Princes' words. The Princess returned safely, and estatic. She's getting too attached and I find myself fearing that I will be unable to complete the job.The Prince knows I killed his men. I have to act faster. Smarter. He probably knows why Iam here, and that makes my job harder. I drag myself out of bed, having had no sleep. I am becoming fraustrated with doing nothing, so I go to pay Dawn a visit. I find her grinning ear to ear, dressed in a black dress. I can't help but frown. The shimmer on her skin makes the color look odd on her. "Look what Lucien got me,"she beams at the beautiful gown. Neautral colors usually suited Dan, all colors did.

But not dark colors apparently. Perhaps it was just my opinion because I was used to her pastel pink dresses. "It's beautiful," I say, hating that she refers to the Prince by his name. They are closer than I feared. "I'm glad you think so, you will have a similar dress," she grins at me. "I'm afraid I don't understand," I tell her with a frown. Dawn giggles in response, showing me a shiny black dress. "Lucien has requested we use colors that represent his Kingdom while we are here, which I completely understand. And since I am safe here, I am sure you wouldn't mind a dress," she grins at me, handing the dress over.

"I have never warn a dress your highness, I appreciate your thought , but I much rather stay in my uniform," I tell her. Dawn frowns, downcast I will not join her. "Please Cel, perhaps if you wear this and ask for trousers you can get your normal uniform back in his color," she says, givimg me her best sad face. "I really don't want to ruin the peace. Please Cel,"she looks so sad. With a sigh I take the dress from her hand. "You always help me, now it is my turn to help you," Dawn grins. I realize she is right and grimace. "Why can't I just tell this girl no?

I stare at the looking glass dumbfound. Dawn matches my expression. The dress fits perfectly and is gorgeous. Dawn took the time to curl my hair and add a bit of make up. "I look..." I trail off, trying to find a nice way to say it. "Like a Princess," Dawn fawns. I sigh. Of course Dawn see's it as that. I stare at the looking glace once more. I look like I could easily pass for a person who lived in this Kingdom all their life. The only thing I am unhappy about is that my dress is less modest than Dawns' . Her dress is long sleeved, reaches her ankle's and has lace up till her neck. It is elegant.

My dress is below my knees, short sleeved with a deep neckline. Clair enters the room gasping at us. "Princess, you are wearing the wrong gown,"she gasps. Dawn giggles shaking her head. "I like this one much better besides it's to late to change.Lucien is expecting us for breakfast,"she states. Us? Why did she swop the dresses? Clair nods and leaves. She frowns at me after. "Honestly I like yours better , but it was to small for me. You're so skinny,"she says and I can't help but frown. I had thought I would pick up weight now that I had regular meals instead of being starved all the time. "I apologize," I state, not knowing what else to say.

"It's fine. Mother assured me men like Lucien would appreciate curves," Dawn smiles. I force a smile. The Queen didn't tell Dawn why exactly they would love her perfect figure. "Why am I escorting you to breakfast your highness," I ask after a while. That had become Clair's' job. "Clair and I had a fight," Dawn states. A fight? Since when was Dawn capable of something like that? And why is se not as upset about it as she should be? Is this kingdom corrupting her to? The thought makes me remember the Princes' words. "Everyone has light and darkness within them" . A pit forms in my stomach. Surely Dawn wasn't so easily influenced?

But that's the problem isn't it? She is so naive that she makes the perfect puppet, and I have a feeling the Prince is pulling at those strings, using her obvious crush on him against her. Suddenly I feel a flair of anger and a gust of wind rushes through the corridor. "Oh my,"Dawn exclaims. "A window must be open,"I say , taking a breath and telling myself to calm down. I haven't had an emotional burst in years. I scold myself internally. I cannot let this place get to me as well, I am to close to my freedom to risk it over a manipulative Prince who will soon be dead.

Soon we are in the dining hall. Dawns seat is to Prince Lucien's left hand side. I notice he has a guest on his right as well and it takes every bit of will power I have not to react to the all to familiar presence. "Please tell your friend to sit. We have a guest," the Prince says. I look at him to see him staring. Dawn notices as well. "It didn't fit me," she explains as I take the seat next to her. "You look beautiful darling," he smiles at her, his eyes meeting mine for a moment. I find myself uncomfortable under his gaze. There were not many weapons I could hide within my dress. "I thought you don't wear dresses," his voice makes me look up at him. I fake a smile, "It was a request."

He stares at me intently, as if hoping I will react. I stare back into his ice blue eyes, noting his blonde hair is longer now. I smirk when I see the ugly scar across his once handsome face, the mark from the top left corner of his forehead, running diagonally to his right side of his chin. "You know Marcella," Dawn asks curiously. "We're old acquaintances," Damien responds. More than that. I gave him that scar. For good reason. He was the only person I harmed without being given the instruction to do so. But what was he doing here? Damien is not from this Kingdom. "Yes, your guard would know a tradesman," Prince Lucien says, but I don't miss the look in his eyes. He knows.

He did this on purpose. "So he is not from either Kingdoms," Dawn frons at the information. For a Princess, she was really kept in the dark. "Traders by law cannot be from any of the Kingdoms. They are raised at sea. It's done to prevent wars," I speak. Not to mention to prevent spies and assassinations. Obviously people found a way around it, but traders still kept to their word, never harming Royals or spilling secrets. Damien still stares at me and I force myself to focus on eating. I do not like what he reminds me of, and something is telling me that even though the Prince most likely did this on purpose, he doesn't know the whole story.

I don't think the trader would have told a Royal how he snuck into my room and tried to harass me. I don't think anyone knows how he truly got that scar. It's our little secret. Just like that night. "What does he trade," Dawn asks to break the tension. "Exotic spices," the Prince lies easily. Everyone knows he trades weaponry, especially rare finds. I know for a fact Damien is the one who gifted the Queen of light her box. I have not yet met the King and Queen of this Kingdom.

The Prince has his own wing, and we stay in it. I have found my way around it , and know how to exit it if necessary. Damien is 35 years old. I wonder if the Prince really does know the kind of man he invited for breakfast, and find myself glad it is me, and not Dawn in the revealing dress. The black hides some of her figure , and I am relived that I will not have to worry about Damien worrying her. "Damien will stay the night and leave in the morning," the Prince says, at which point Damien sends me a nasty glare. Dawn will have to be safe by herself. I will be busy tonight.

I'm in my bedroom when I hear my door creak open. I had been expecting this, leaving it unlocked on purpose, ensuring Dawns' room was locked and that I was asleep. My racing heart betrayed the cold demeanor I had to portray. I was still scared of this man. I had only been 15 the last time I encountered him. I force myself to stay calm as I hear him talking to himself. When he goes to move my blanket , I sit up quickly, my dagger at his neck as I turn my lantern on. "Brave this time," he taunts, and I smell the alcohol in his breath. Damien had stayed in the Kingdom of light for a week every year he visited, and knew I was forbid from dresses. He wanted to find out why. He was a pervert and a horrible man. He tries to grab the dagger out of my hand, but I easily avoid his lazy attempts. I am not that 15 year old girl anymore.

I remember the fear. The bruising. The lashing I got for harming "unnecessarily" when the Queen had found out. I push the awful memories aside. Damien lets out a shout, stumbling back when I stab his shoulder with my dagger. "You little..."he growls, angry now. My door burst open fully. "What is the meaning of this," the familiar voice of the Prince demands. Damien turns to face him. "Its not what it.." his words are cut short as I push my second dagger through the back of his throat. Damien coughs, sputters and falls to the ground.

His blood pools on my bedroom floor, a splitting headache affecting me immediately. "Cel," The Princes voice is distant. "Leave," I spit the word. I hear him inching forward. In a flash, I have my bloodied dagger at his neck. "Leave," I order. In a flash of black smoke, he disappears. I drop my dagger and pass out.