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The window, foolishly enough, is wide open.

Her room is hardly sixteen feet above the ground. An easy climb when there are jutted bricks from the castle wall. Danil lands along the window ledge toes first, silent and watching. His face is covered by a dark mask, vivid blue eyes and a slightly tanned forehead the only features visible. Every ounce of his body, aside from hair, is clothed in black. The colour of night.

The colour of death.

His steps are soundless. Even with his tall height and broad shoulders his weight is nothing when he places it properly. The princess' room is wide and spacious, with little clutter on the hard ground and furniture that seems placed for appearance rather than her comfort. A large chest, a towering dresser, a desk with papers and quills neatly arranged.

Danil can smell perfume. It's subtle and sweet, like a field of gentle flowers.

The princess is in bed, across from him against the far wall. The mattress is too large for her and with her laying slightly to the left, she looks so lonely in her sleep. Young, waiting for her age to be married off for money or power. None towards her, of course, but her father.

In a sense, Danil is doing her a favour. By killing her she won't have to deal with the pressures of royalty. She won't need to be dressed in a corset that slowly pushes her organs up into her lungs, she won't need to be told she will never amount to a man, or a small boy. Her father will never have to look at her and sigh, because she is his only heir and she is only a young woman.

She won't have to be married to a disgusting pig. She won't have to sleep with him, be used, birth his children. She won't be forced through horrors and turmoil that is only fitting for a lady born within a monarchy.

'I'm saving her,' Danil tells himself. Although to him her life matters not. His kingdom, Belgor, needs her dead. In two nights the war between his empire and hers will come to battle. One which Belgor dreams of slaughtering the king of her people. Her father. Without an heir, the princess' nation will crumble, weak, and Belgor can strike.

She won't have to know he's dead, either. She'll be free from that pain.

Danil pulls his knife from within his sleeve. The hilt is cool and his palm, although gloved, enjoys the hard metal against it. He creeps to the left side of the bed, watching her torso as it rises and falls in a slow, even motion. She remains sleeping throughout all of it.

Danil, towering at six feet, feels so giant standing above her form. Soon she'll be lifeless. Will it make it any better? He's seen so many bodies, taken so many lives. They always leave him feeling used and sad. Sad for the family, used for the money. Always so torn. Because deep down inside he doesn't honestly mind it.

Does that make him a bad person? Or simply immune after four years of murdering?

His grip on the knife tightens. He reaches down with his free hand, ready to cover her mouth and pin her down. One swipe across the throat. She won't cry out, won't fight. She might gurgle and splutter, but only blood will escape her lips. She will die, slowly yes, and perhaps painfully. It's not the comfort he wishes upon his targets in death. It's silence.

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The soft breeze from the window would blow into the princess's room. Drifting over her sleeping body as she slept soundly through the night. Her light brown hair would lay gently against the pillow that her head laid on as she laid on her side facing towards the window.

Bound to be married, to someone of her father's choosing. But that was not what she wanted. She wanted to be with someone that truly loves. But that wouldn't matter at the end. The only thing that mattered was to make her father happy. Being the only heir of the kingdom, and being a girl, her father wasn't so proud. Everyone now and then she caught the disappointing glances her father would give her. Really the only thing she wanted to do was to make her father happy, but she knew that wasn't going to happen because she knew that it was her father's dream to have a boy as the heir of her kingdom. Really that's any king's dream is to have a son to continue ruling the kingdom once he was gone. But she had to deal with the fact that her father doesn't love her. And he has a bigger thing to hate her since her mother died because she was giving birth to the daughter he never wanted.

Dreaming, wondering what it would feel like it would feel like to be free. Free to do her what she wanted and not what her father wanted. But she knew that wouldn't happen anytime soon. Even when she got married, she wouldn't have any kind of freedom then. She would be under the control of her husband just like she was with her father. Giving him heirs. Letting him do what he wants to her without her having a word in it. That's how she was taught growing up. Do what your husband tells him to. Do everything and anything to keep him happy. But what about her? Why can't she be happy for once? Why can't her knight and shining armor come and save her from the nightmare that she's living. So she can live the life that she wants...the life she's been dreaming about since she was a little girl.

Slowly, a tear would run down her cheek, wishing that it would all end.

The tear was slow when it made its way down her cheek. Danil’s eyes followed the droplet’s movement as it disappeared over the curve of her jaw.

His hand, poised inches from her face, stilled.

So much suffering. Danil could never imagine living a life such as hers. He would never want to. She’d be better off dead.

The knife was warming in his gloved hand. As fast as he could Danil grabbed the princess, turned her onto her back, and climbed atop her body. His knees pinned her arms and his hand flew to her mouth, covering it completely.

He held the knife steady against her throat. The blade pressed into her flesh. Its softness was nothing to the sharp edge of his weapon. One swipe was all it would take. One flick of his wrist, one jerk. She would bleed out. She would die. He would save his land and conquers hers while she rested in a tomb beneath the ground, alongside her dear daddy.

For the first time a tug pulled at his stomach. It reminded him of one of his earlier missions. His mind screamed, “Don’t do it! Don’t!” He had taken the life of a child back then. A small girl, just like this princess, who hardly said a word when he cut her throat. Would this female be the same? Would she only squeak and flutter her eyes while they rolled into the back of her head? Would she be quiet and slow, like all the rest?

He pressed down on her harder. The knife cut into her skin and crimson lightly drizzled out. He had to kill her. This was the only way. His kingdom, his king, his family. He had to. She was worth nothing alive.

The tug continued.

His father’s voice whispered in his ear, “Never do a task your conscience disagrees with. Think in ten second increments. Decide for the moment, not the future.”

The moment. Murdering the princess. The future. Murdering her father.

Think in ten second increments.

Danil pulled the knife back.

Suddenly, Aurora felt someone jerk her onto her back. Her eyes spring open, looking into 2 blue eyes. Struggling trying to get free, but she realized that the masked man was pinning her down to her bed. Looking back into the blue eyes, she felt something cold and sharp press against her neck.

It was a knife...

Fear and panic was truly able to been seen into her eyes. She tried to make a sound by it was just muffled against his glove covered hand. Another tear would stream down her face as she looked into the eyes of the assassin that stood on top of her. "Am I really going to die...?" she thought softly to herself as she felt the cold metal of the blade press against her neck more, making her wince slightly.

She looked back into the face of the assassin, her eyes pleading him to spear her life. But he was an assassin, his job is to kill.

But she noticed something...she saw that he was strangling with the decision to kill her or not. Aurora was able to feel air rush back into her lungs when he removed his hand from her face. Once that happened she pushes him off of her, using her hands and knees.

Danil gasped, although not too loud. The force of her knees knocking into his back sent him wavering to the side. Just enough for her to slip out. He tch'd himself. Such an amateur move. How could he allow himself the doubt?

His father's voice echoed in his head. Ten seconds. In ten seconds he could kill her. He could kill himself. He could run. He could run with her.

He could use her as leverage.

No, she had to die. That was the plan.

And she could die. She could easily have her life taken away outside on the street, where nobody knew who she was in the dark, where an escaping princess might wind up facing a robber and enter an early death. It could be plotted out, and pictured perfectly. The blame of her murder would land on their own people, rather than his.

Danil threw himself off the bed. He advanced towards the princess. Being much taller and quite a bit broader, taking her down physically would be easy. It was the screaming he was worried about. A single holler would send the guards and they'd then know it was no escape, but a kidnap. And who to blame but Belgor?

"If you value life, stay silent," he spoke through his thin mask, which muffled his deep voice only a bit. In his hand the knife remained, stained crimson at the edge. He loosened his grip and tilted it down to the ground, as to not scare her anymore than she already way. "If you do, I shall bring no harm to you."

Once he was off, Aurora slipped out of her bed and stood against the wall. She was able to feel a small trail of blood run down her throat but she just covers it with her handkerchief. Looking straight at him, she was able to feel her heart pound in her chest.

"Calm down..." she thought to herself "If he wanted to kill you..he would had by now"

She noticed that he had moved closer to her once they were both off the bed. Pressing her back against the wall, she would listen to his soft words telling her to stay calm if she wanted to live. Her heartbeat would slow down slightly, but she was still confused."If..you are here to kill me..why did you hesitate...?" she states softly, her voice slightly shaking still panicking. Her soft green eyes would meet his as he stood a couple of inches away from her.

He didn't want to kill her...he wanted to save her.

Many thoughts ran threw her head, trying to put together why he wanted to save her. He was an assassin, someone sent him to kill her. He wasn't the knight in shining armor she asked to come save her from her life that was a living nightmare. But many..he understood her pain...maybe that's why he didn't kill her.

Hesitate.

Yes, that was the proper word for it. Hesitate. Danil was pausing in his actions. The blade was still in his hand, his heart was beating slowly within his chest. He was calm and composed. Nothing like how he felt when taking a life.

He was hesitating.

Why?

He was not sure. She had seemed so sad, so lonely. Yet he knew she was that way. What princess wouldn't be when her mother was dead and her father needing a male heir when he rode out into battle? Their kingdoms were at war, their cultures clashing. He was more than aware of all of this.

So why?

Why?

Danil didn't know.

He didn't know why he remembered the tear sliding down her cheek. He didn't know why his father's words, ten seconds, whispered through his mind. He didn't know why he returned his blade to its hiding place among his robes, or why he stepped back from the princess to give her room.

Why?

Ten second choices.

Danil placed his fingers to his mask and quietly pulled it down, revealing his features. His gentle jaw, his long yet soft nose. Whether or not the princess saw his face he had no idea. He wasn't sure about a lot of things at the moment.

He could kill her in the streets and a mugger would be blamed. He could throw her in the river, pretend she slipped and fell. He could trash her room, make it seem like a robber came and murdered her.

Everything he was supposed to do flashed past.

Yet he wanted to act on none of them.

She was so scared. So panicked. He would be too, if he were in her position.

Would she kill him, if she were the assassin and he the prince? Or would she hesitate and step away?

Would she extend her hands the same way Danil was doing, showing their bareness, his lack of weapon? He continued pacing away, giving her room to breathe, to run, to escape. Would she have done the same? Or would she have slit his throat while he slept?

He imagined her pain, her conflict. If he were a princess he wouldn't have lived to her age. Suicide, to him, was a much brighter light.

His voice came out almost in a whisper, "You suffer enough."

Then he was moving. He turned his back to her and began his way to the window. If she were running, screaming, he would be gone before she could ever point him out in the darkness. Danil placed his hands on the window ledge, swung his legs over, and paused.

He looked back.

Watching him, Aurora's eyes would study him, making sure that he wasn't going to kill her where she stood. But..he just backed away and her heart would slow down more. She didn't understand why he was sparing her life. Could it really be that he felt bad for her.

The slowly she would watch him remove his mask and her eyes would widen slightly. He showed her his face. Beautiful eyes matching a handsome face. Watching him more as he backed away, she would blink still trying to figure him out. He was going to let her live but why..? And he spoke those soft words. She watched him walk over to her window and climb out but he stopped and looked back at her.

Walking over to him she would stand slightly close to him, looking into his eyes as she gently puts her hand on his arm. "Please..tell me your name.." she spoke softly.

Her hand was warm compared to the cool night, and although his arms were covered with dark material, her touch sent a shiver dancing along his skin. His name. To tell her his name would be the ultimate humiliation for any assassin. He had already shown his face, yes, but a name was far more important. A name could be seen on any document, on any poster. His face was simply a recognition when noticed. A name lingered.

Still... Her large eyes were watching. Danil could not remove his stare from them. They were perfectly shaped. Almond, soft, bright.

He wanted to place his own hand atop hers. Whether to remove it or to comfort her, he was not sure. He held back though, and simply allowed her to touch him. Instead he continued peering into her eyes and he murmured his name quietly, "Danil."

Somewhere in the background a clatter was heard. A guard shuffling around, cursing, muttering. Who knew. Danil's hair prickled and he glanced over his shoulder briefly before returning his gaze to the princess. "One day," he told her. "I shall see you again."

Then he released himself from her touch and swung over the edge of the window. He moved fast and swift down the wall and through the brush leading away from her room. Whatever made the noise, he was not sure. But he was more than certain he had not been seen. And the princess... Those eyes, pleading, lingering. He would most definitely be back.

Perhaps sooner than she thought.

Her eyes would continue to study him, her eyes keeping lock on his. She kept her hand gently resting against his forearm as she continued to stand beside him. She knew asking him his name was a silly move, but she wanted to know. She saw his face so why can't she know his name? And then he said it. In his soft, deep voice. Danil. She went to say something but, she heard a soft noise coming down the hall. Turning she would look back towards him and saw a worried look on his face.

She knew that he would be leaving soon...

He spoke to her once again, telling her that she would see him again. Soon she was able to feel her hand slip away from his arm as he jumped off her window. Looking out she would watch him disappear into the night. Taking a deep breath she would close the window and walks over to her mirror to check her neck. A trail of blood had moved down her neck but the the cut was small enough to be covered by make up.

Glancing in the mirror, she would look at the window in the reflection. Is she really going to see him again?