Kiana threw the kit onto her bed, the dress following soon after. She was breathing heavily and after a moment a sob rose from her throat unbidden. She clutched her head, falling to her knees, her fingers digging into her scalp and soft hair.

What was she thinking?

Fiona looked so hopeful. Why hadn't Kiana just told her it wouldn't work, delayed the surprisingly good plan until the ideal moment had passed?

She'd been so caught up in her calculating, running the possibilities and realizing the princess's crazy plan had a chance of working that she'd been totally blindsided when Fiona had told her to forget the whole thing.

"I don't want anything to happen to you."

The princess's words were stuck in Kiana's heart like a knifepoint. She shouldn't be worried about Kiana—Kiana was nothing, just some girl she'd met a few months ago, why would she even consider giving up a chance to get out for her.

Fiona had so much outside the castle. She'd told Kiana about the Hidden Valley, about the kind and loving people who took the secret princess into their arms. She had a home and a family.

Kiana did not.

The thought tore open old wounds and she dropped her hand and dug her nails into the rug of her floor instead. She was just pretending to be part of Fiona's life, feasting on her secondhand happy memories like a parasite, until the moment when she would rip loose and leave the princess's heart to bleed to death. She was a spy, a killer, a monster.

She was a pawn and she didn't know what to do. Kiana wished someone would tell her, wished she had another story to follow. 'Kiana and the Princess' how would that story go?

It was a pathetic wish and she wiped her face with her skirt at the thought. Her 'legend' had been a lie, a carrot dangled in front of her so she wouldn't question what it was she was doing, wouldn't think for herself.

How often had she done the same to others? Told them what they wanted to hear so they would ignore any inconsistencies as she slid into their lives.

Maybe it was time to stop waiting for the next chapter to be given to her and to pick up the pen herself.

The idea terrified Kiana, made her hesitate in ways she never had before until panic rose like bile in her throat. What if she was wrong? She wasn't ready to face the terrible consequences of choice.

Like someone possessed, Kiana lurched forward and slid her fingers along her bed until they wrapped around a small object. She pulled it free and then dropped it in her lap like it'd burned.

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An innocent looking thing. The polished steel expertly etched with measurements, marks of brass laying out the particular lengths for button holes and collar heights. A clever tool, useful and well made. Kiana grit her teeth and expertly flicked the tool.

It split down the middle, rotating in her hand in a flash until the ten inch blade replaced the polished numbers. The knife was as comfortable in her hand as a needle and thread.

Kiana killed the Queen of Aziron with this blade. The assassination had been well planned, Hizar had walked her through it so many times, the actual event had felt almost uneventful. Her memory of the kill less sharp than her shock at the less than smooth escape, the cold fear as they hunted her down, of the amulet tossed around her neck as she was told to run as the most powerful mage in En searched for her.

She'd killed the queen, but it was because she'd been lied to, tricked. It wasn't her fault, wasn't her choice.

It used to be so easy to believe that. To put her actions in other's hands, whether that was Hizar's, the queen's, or the unseen hands of destiny. But the veil had been lifted from Kiana's eyes and she couldn't put it back.

Of course she'd had a choice.

She could have seen the lives of the Azir around her, not ignored the inconsistencies of her 'legend' and reality. The Azir Queen wasn’t a malicious dictator, the Azir people not oppressed. She'd ignored it because it didn't align with what she wanted and now she was ignoring the current problem because of the same reason.

Kiana’d had a choice then and she had a choice now. She could continue letting the queen direct her path even though she knew it was hurting others...or she could do something new and unscripted.

Knife still in hand, Kiana stood up and sat on the bed. She placed the weapon beside her, the blade gleaming above the innocuous numbers, a juxtaposition all too relatable. Kiana's fingers drifted to the dress and she lifted it and held it close.

Kiana didn't want Fiona to escape. “She might be hurt,” Kiana reasoned, but she glanced at the knife, the reflection showed the lie on her face.

“No, you just don't want her to leave you.”

Her fingers curled deeper into the fabric. It was a lovely dress, yellow and blue patterned fabric from Duskar married with the sheer chiffon of Aryus, all done with expert Soli style tailoring and finished with a Valhym belt. A garment made possible by an empire.

If Fiona stayed, eventually she would become empress. Perhaps Kiana could stay as she was and eventually Fiona could use her. An assassin and a spy had a place at the side of an empress—in fact that may even be what the Iron Queen intended. A future laid out on a path of blood and glory, a legacy Fiona inherited and Kiana had a place in.

But it would not be like this, wouldn't be the same.

An assassin had no place making a queen laugh or smile. Was not the tool to use to lessen grief or heal Fiona's heavy heart. If Fiona stayed she would be changed, she would either break as her father had or survive and follow her mother's footsteps. It was what was whispered in the halls of the castle, the silent test those waiting in the wings watched for—and Fiona wanted none of it.

“Then help her escape.”

The answer was obvious, but Kiana groaned. That path had one conclusion. Fiona would find out what Kiana was and Kiana would die—either by the mages' hands or by the queen's.

Her life for Fiona's freedom. A choice that was hers to make. A choice she only had to close her eyes and see Fiona's face to decide.

Kiana picked up the knife, once more flicking it deftly until the blade spun back into concealment before slipping it into her pocket. To kill a queen and then to save a princess. Perhaps it was the fitting ending to Kiana's tale.