"Lift your sword like this and hold it an angle," Lance advised as I stumbled with the heavy metal object. "No," he reached out warmly to fix my grip, "like this."

Sad to say, I wasn't acting. I felt so disturbed I had no intention to train or hold a sword properly. Finally, Lance threw the sword aside in defeat, running a hand through his hair, exasperated. "You told me you were bad, but this is horrible. Hello?" he called, waving his hand in front of my face. "Your eyes are glazed over again."

I sighed miserably. "I don't feel like training."

"Why?" I didn't answer. His eyes softened. "Is this about yesterday?" I blushed. I could feel the heat crawling up my neck. Lance waited for me to answer, watching me closely.

"No." I was embarrassed. "I don't want to do anything. I just hate life right now," I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.

Lance raised his eyebrows, his green eyes amused. "What has life ever done to you?"

"Besides taken everything from me?" I slumped to the ground and started yanking grass up out of its roots. Lance sat in front of me. "I don't know."

"Are you sure that was life? Isn't that supposed to be death's job?"

"No, that's definitely life. Life is mean. If you don't live then you won't have to go through losing someone."

"Who've you lost?"

I almost replied, but I stopped just in time. I made a small sound in the back of my throat.

"Tell me."

I got to my feet, throwing a fistful of grass in his face. I started to walk away.

He laughed. "Do I have that much of an effect on you?"

I froze in mid-step.

"So he thought this one through." I muttered under my breath, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Excuse me?"

A blush crept up my cheeks. He wasn't supposed to hear that.

"You're red again." Xavier grinned. "Do I have that much of an effect on you?"

"Adalia?" Lance broke my train of thought. "You okay?"

"No," I breathed out. "No, I'm not. I have to go." I walked inside, my pace quick and desperate, ignoring Lance's calls of protest.

"I'm sorry!" he called. "I didn't mean to upset—have I said something wrong?"

I walked inside and slammed the door shut behind me, running up the stairs to my quarters, and there, I collapsed onto my bed with a groan. I'd been here too long. I was an assassin, not an undercover spy. Or was an assassin supposed to be a spy? I hadn't signed up for this. Then again, I hadn't signed up for killing people either.

I'd let so much of myself go. What was I thinking tearing up because of a memory? Like a child. I rolled over onto my stomach, a raging anger inside of me. And yet I still remembered the lemony scent of Lance's shirt.

I jumped up, yelling at the stool as I tripped over it. "Get out of my way."

I ran my hands through my hair with an irritated sigh. What was I doing? I had to get out of here. I felt so trapped. How long had I been here now? I couldn't even remember. I counted on my fingers, trying to figure out the number of days I'd stayed here.

Ten days.

My place was in the castle to work under the King. So why was I here? I'd spent three whole days sulking in my room and not doing anything. I was pathetic. I'd been here for more than a week and I hadn't accomplished anything, and that made me more miserable. I jumped back onto the bed and smacked my head against the headboard.

"Damn it," I mumbled. "I am the biggest idiot I have ever met."

A loud knock on the door caused me to sit up, alert.

"Come in."

The door opened and Lorelle slithered in with a smile, plopping down on my bed.

I pressed a pillow over my face.

"You're so different," she sighed.

"What?" I refused to pull the pillow away.

"You're speaking to me, you laugh, you joke, you blush—you're a becoming a person."

I sat up. "What? I haven't changed at all, Lorelle. I'm same old Adalia. Before, now, and forever."

"No you're not. You've changed more than you could possibly imagine here, Adalia, even if you've been here only a little more than a week."

"No I haven't," I persisted. I didn't want to change. I didn't.

"And all that with Lance?"

"I don't know what you mean," I said dryly. I don't want to talk about Lance. "I'm going to hurt you if you don't leave my presence this instant."

"Now you sound like the old Adalia," Lorelle wrinkled her brow.

I clenched my fists and let out a deep breath.

"I'm not in the mood, Lorelle," I said quietly, standing up and walking randomly to the wall. I leaned against the cold stone and closed my eyes. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"You've been around more people for quite a while now," Lorelle said softly. "That may be why you feel different. You know many more people. Before, the only person you had any interaction with was—" she paused, the whisper of the unspoken name hanging in the room. She looked at her hands but not before I could see tears in her eyes.

She regretted it. It wasn't a show she was putting on. Suddenly, as if right in cue, there were a loud pattern of knocks on the door.

"Come in," Lorelle and I said in unison.

A boy stood in the doorway, breathing heavily as if he'd just run a mile. "Lorelle?" he said.

"Yes, Cameron?" Lorelle quickly stood up and wiped her eyes.

"Lorelle, you know the rat that was experimented on for the poison to kill the prince?"

"Yes?"

"It just died."

Something snapped inside me. I whipped around to face the boy. "Out! Haven't you any decency?" I hissed.

He smiled apologetically. "Excuse me. It was an order from Clarice." Then he turned on his heel and left.

I faced Lorelle, newfound hatred bubbling up my chest. I could feel my face reddening with anger.

"Adalia—" she said, horrified, stepping back. New tears were forming in her eyes. "It doesn't mean anything—"

"Get out. Get the hell out before I slit your throat and toss you out the window. Get out now."

"But Adalia, I can—"

"Didn't you hear me?" I yelled, slamming my fist against the bedpost. It hurt. It hurt so much I felt tears in my eyes. "Get out before I get my revenge for Xavier. Last chance."

She turned on her heel and left, shutting the door behind her. I flexed my fist, cursing myself.

I had to get back down to Esmeralda because my fist was swelling and turning purple, and I could barely move it. Hopefully the cracking sound had come from the wood and not from my fist. Thankfully, I'd used my undamaged hand.

Esmeralda, reading a book, told Lance to do it who had been there to work with her before I'd come down.

I was sitting on a stool and he was standing fairly close, examining the base of my fist. It was turning a sickly shade of purple.

"Adalia," he whispered, cleaning my hand with a warm cloth, "Why do you keep hurting yourself?"

"Mind your own business," I snapped, and he looked into my eyes, ignoring the sharpness in my voice. Lance looked down at my hand with a sigh.

I watched his fingers move quickly and carefully around my hand, light and graceful. Heat filled my cheeks as I watched. I hate this. I hate this feeling.

"Move your fingers," he said as he caught me watching. I moved them streets of pain running through my hand.

A hiss of pain escaped my teeth. "Look—it's blue, green, and purple," he said, his voice disapproving. "At least it's not broken," he said with a sigh. That was good. I couldn't afford two fractured hands.

"Oops," I mumbled as he wrapped a white bandage around my hand, and it was then I realized how close we were standing. I could hear him breathing. He looked up at my face and smiled, his green eyes shining.

"Do I have that much of an effect on you?"

The smile slipped away and I turned my face, blinking angrily. There was a fifty—no, seventy five—percent chance Xavier was dead. He's dead. Get over him. He's been dead to you for the past week so why do you even care?

Lance turned his back to me, clearly irritated. I would be irritated if I were him. I was an idiot. I rubbed my face with my uninjured hand and hopped off the seat, turning to Esmeralda.

"Thank you," I said with a nod and turned around.

"It's not me you should be thanking," her cool voice cut through my ears sharply. I winced and looked over my shoulder to see her nodding towards Lance who was bending over something, his shoulders tense. He was hurt. Because of me.

"Thank you," I mumbled, not in the mood to think about anyone else besides Xavier. It was selfish, but I had priorities. Xavier was my priority.

Lance turned to face me, tapping one partially gloved hand on the table. "Just doing my job," he said with a smile.

"Really, Kristina, stop rejecting him," Esmeralda laughed and I saw Lance's ears go red. "Poor child is falling head over heels for you and you're being so heartless."

Heartless.

There was that word again I'd heard so often. I squeezed my eyes shut.

When I opened them, Lance was rubbing his face and glaring at Esmeralda who was chuckling to herself. His face was red. I stared between both of them unsure of what to do, and then I turned abruptly and tried to walk away just before Lance caught me by the arm and turned me around to face him.

"Lance, what—"

"Esmeralda would like to speak with you," Was all he said and then he walked up the stairs, leaving me all alone in the room with this old woman. I stared at Esmeralda.

"If this is about that annoying book of rules I have to read, I haven't finished. "I've been busy."

"This is not about the book," Esmeralda said, standing up with a new confidence. "This is about you and where your loyalties lie."

I tensed, reaching down to my belt where a knife was tucked away secretly.

"No need to pull out weapons, I'm unarmed I can assure you," Esmeralda chuckled. "I just want to make sure you know that you're not fooling everyone. I can even assure you that I know exactly why you're here."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said without emotion, my face unreadable.

"Don't take me as a fool, dear assassin." Her lip curled up at the a-word and I felt my stomach slide, though I hadn't betrayed any signs of confirmation. Nor did I speak. "You must be wondering how," she continued. "And I have no intention to hide it from you. You see, my granddaughter is an amazing child and I love her tremendously. She could never bear to hide anything from me. She loves her mother, yes, but love is different from trust. I, on the other hand, have both; her love, and trust. Do you know who she might be?"

"Lorelle," I whispered, staring at the old woman's wrinkled face.

She laughed. "Yes, it is Lorelle. You're here for the prince's antidote. I suspected so."

"Does anyone else know?" I asked, not bothering to lie anymore about my identity. "Lance?" I croaked his name, realizing he'd been acting very strange around me for the past few days.

"No, not Lance," Esmeralda rolled her eyes. "Even if he is my grandson I wouldn't betray a secret that quickly."

I nearly choked on my words. "Grandson?"

"Oh, he hasn't told you? You must sit down for this then."

"No, I'll stand," I said with a menacing hiss. I stood my ground. I wouldn't back down.

"Alright then," Esmeralda sat down, her green eyes sparkling, and it was only then when I realized how similar her and Lance appeared despite their ages. "You see, Lorelle's mother was a beautiful person though not what I'd call 'lovely'. Her sister, on the other hand, was a shining sun that brightened every room she walked in. She was sweet and kind and the two sisters often didn't get along with each other, especially because of the older one's jealousy."

"Lorelle's mother is the older sister," I raised my eyebrows. "What does—"

"Shh," Esmeralda hushed me. "The two sisters grew up and fell in love with two best friends. Both boys evenly matched each sister's personality. They were married, and then the older sister had a daughter."

"Lorelle," I nodded, "but the younger sister?"

"A son," she finished. Now her eyes were so bright they looked like stars. "The younger sister, her name was Janine, and the older sister was Clarice. You know Clarice's current position, don't you?"

"She's a Leader," I answered the question, my palms sweating. Don't think. Thinking will make it worse. Don't think you know the answer. Don't.

"Where do you think the younger sister is now?" Her smile was creepy, foreboding.

A horrid jolt of realization ran through my stomach as I stared into her eyes.

"She's the other Leader."

"And who might you think is her son?"

"Lance."

"I know it's strange but believe me—"

"You don't know anything," I scowled. "Nothing. You don't know me."

"You're right. I probably don't know what you're going through. But I don't see what Lance being the Leader's son has to do with anything." She paused, her eyes widening as realization hit her. "Unless he was part of your plan in coming here."

"Stop talking." I was almost pleading her. "Just stop. There's nothing I can do anyway. I've dug my own grave and there's no way I can get out of this mess. You're just making it worse." I covered my face in my hands. There was a long silence.

"Listen, Adalia," Esmeralda finally spoke. "I know how it feels to lose someone. But I called you back to make sure you know where your loyalties are, and to me it looks like they're neither to the rebels nor the King."

I looked up and narrowed my eyes. "Don't."

"So I'm putting forth a bargain. Or I'm making a deal with you, whichever you like. It seems to me that Lorelle really likes you, and I respect my granddaughter so I'll respect you. The deal that I give you two days—in two days, your antidote will be down here waiting for you. In those two days you will try to figure out whose side you're on. By midnight on the second day either you show up or you don't. If you do, it would mean you're taking the antidote and finishing your business here forever, and you will never show your face here again; not to Lorelle, not to Lance, or any other friends you've made here. But if you don't show up to take the antidote than you are forever loyal to the RA and you will forget your past life. Deal?"

I stayed staring at her face for a very long time—both confused and pleased, and finally mumbled my answer.

"Deal," I whispered, and this time, I wasn't lying.

The next day, Lance was the first to show up with Aland by his side.

"Morning," Darren greeted as he walked in. Lance had awoken me with his loud knocking. I was sat up straight in bed, squinting at them.

"What the hell do you want?" I muttered, rubbing my eyes. "I need to sleep."

"It's lunchtime." Lance raised his eyebrows. "You overslept."

"What?" I asked, a little surprised. I was fully awake now. "That late?"

"Pretty," Darren agreed and Lance elbowed him in the stomach. "What?" Darren exclaimed. "I meant pretty late!"

I rolled out of bed and pushed past them, throwing open the wardrobe and pulling out a shirt, pants, and a knife. I pointed it at them.

"Well?"

"Oh. I'm sorry." Darren marched out of the room but Lance stayed. I couldn't afford to make eye contact with him.

"What did Esmeralda want talk to you about?" he finally asked, rolling up his sleeves above his elbows.

"You mean your grandmother?" I scoffed. "How could you have failed to mention that?"

"Oh. You know about my mother?" He winced.

"I know about you and how you didn't bother to trust me enough with the fact that you're the Leader's son."

"I just didn't want you to think differently of me. I wanted you to know that I was normal."

"You are normal, Lance." I put my hands up. "Why would being the Leader's son change that?" You have no idea.

"Again the point comes up, why was it important for me to tell you?"

"Fair point," I sighed. "Just so you know, I don't think differently of you."

"Good," Lance nodded, and he seemed to have relaxed a bit. So that's why he'd been acting so strange. He was afraid I'd think differently of him.

I almost laughed at the thought.

"Lance," Darren poked his head in. "Are you going to stand there and watch her change or will you come out here?"

"Darren. . ." We both warned at the same time. Lance and I looked at each other. He started to laugh.