The revolutionists had a camp just North of the castle, hidden in the forest, just close enough to keep an eye on the castle. Only once had Gisella been trusted to enter the camp, when she was eleven. It was her first and last time there, saying she would be allowed back as soon as she finished her training.

Tents were set up and people were scurrying about, some sitting around the fire with smoke rising into the air. There was laughter, but still many looked upset or even furious.

Before leaving the castle, Gisella had changed into a simple black gown the resembled one she would have worn before becoming a 'princess'. No one seemed to see her, she slipped through people unnoticed thanks to her small stature.

She managed to get within the heart of the camp before bumping into someone. She murmured an apology, head low, but that didn't stop the silver dagger from going to her throat, her small body being shoved against a nearby tree, the bark digging into her back.

"Traitors like you have no place here," the man hissed, his foul smelling breath fanning across her cheek.

Gisella growled low in her throat, wiggling to try and get away from the assassin who held her pinned. She had no doubt that he would kill her if given the chance. She felt fear creep up inside her, but she swallowed it down as best she could, trying to look calm. "I am no traitor. I made a decision to benefit the revolution." The lie slipped easily passed Gisella's lips. She knew she could easily tell them all the truth and never have to return to the castle, and yet, something was holding her back.

"Let her go, Trevor," a deep voice demanded, causing the man to drop his blade away from Gisella's throat and take a hesitant step back from the blonde lady.

There stood Morgan, dark skin glistening in the daylight. His lips were pressed into a hard line, eyes cold and calculating. Beside him stood Gareth, his eyes downcast. He refused to meet Gisella's gaze for even a second.

"What have you come for?" Morgan demanded, startling Gareth. "You betray us and yet you have no shame to show your face."

"I am no traitor," Gisella repeated herself, straightening out her body and brushing the invisible dirt off her dress.

"You were sent to the kill the prince and yet you come back engaged to him," Morgan accused, stalking forward.

"It's all a lie."

"Lies!" Morgan yelled, his voice echoing through the trees.

Gisella racked her brain for something, anything as she was back into the tree once more, this time Morgan's hand pressed against her throat, slowly cutting off her oxygen supply. Gisella reached up and clawed at Morgan's hand, but he refused to relent, his hand only pressing harder.

"Wait!" This time it was Gareth who spoke, his voice frantic as he pulled Morgan away from his sister, who fell to her knees gasping for air as soon as she was free, her hand going up to the bruise that she knew was slowly forming, discoloring her fair skin.

"Please," Gareth pleaded, "please allow her to explain."

It was silent as they waited for Morgan's answer. The dark skinned man refused to reply for a long moment, but finally, he nodded once. Gisella kneeled, gasping for breath still, her lungs burning. 

"I-I," Gisella stuttered, her voice failing her. "We needed a person on the inside. Someone to gather information, to better help the revolution."

It scared Gisella how easily the lie slipped off her tongue and into words. Guilt swamped her, but she pushed it away. She knew she could easily turn away from the royal family, she could run far away, and yet, there was something holding her back. Maybe it was the answers she was promised in return, the ones about her parents.

"So you took things into your own hands?" Morgan questioned skeptically.

"The King of Conterna," Gisella said, stumbling to her feet, "he called me his sister. He thinks I'm her, the one that was lost."

Gisella didn't dare tell the truth, that the princess was long dead, her death hidden by the royal family who said she ran away from stress.

"He welcomed me back, and our king declared that I marry his son for my return."

There was a pregnant pause, and for a second Gisella swore she was caught in her lie. But finally, a grin broke out on Morgan's face and he swept Gisella up into a large hug.

"You are a genius Gisella Weilder," Gareth laughed as the crowd cheered for her lie.

"To the future Queen of the revolution," Morgan yelled as he put her down. The title caused a chill to rise up Gisella's spine.

Finally, the crowd calmed down enough for Morgan to dismiss them. "Where do the royal family think you are now?"

"Visiting the family I was staying with," Gisella swept her hand in Gareth's direction. Looking up at the sky, the sun was rising high in the sky. "I really must be going, I have tea with the queen to attend."

"Be careful fair maiden," Gareth called teasingly as Gisella waved, walking away from the camp.

Reaching the meadow just a little away from the forest, Gisella's two guards found her and escorted her to the castle the blonde's hand rubbing her sore neck as she entered the grand entrance of the palace.

Marcella met her at the entrance, stumbling her way down the staircase quickly to welcome her new friend back home, her eldest brother trailing behind her. When her gaze fell on the angry blotches coating Gisella's neck, the princess gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

"What has happened?" The raven-haired princess ran forward, her hands grabbing Gisella's and pulling them away from her neck. "Oh, my!"

"What happened, Gisella?" Alexander asked, his hand reaching up to gently caress her neck. Gisella flinched away, fearful. The attack had surely shaken her up and the whole journey back to the kingdom had been a series of frightful twists and turns of Gisella's body.

Alexander didn't move his hand away, instead, he brushed her hair off her neck and pulled her to him, wrapping his large arms around her small frame. She was much smaller compared to him and she tucked herself easily into his side, burying her face in his chest.

"I was so scared," Gisella whispered into his tailor coat, fisting the material in her two hands. It was as though her argument with him earlier had never happened. "I've never been so scared of them before."

Alexander stroked the panes of her hair softly, soothing her. "They're monsters, Ellie, they will kill you without a second thought. They hold no remorse for you, especially now that you're engaged to me."

Gisella pulled away from him, her face twisting into a scowl. "I don't want to be engaged to you if it means my life is put in danger."

"There is nothing we can do," Alexander huffed, running his hands through his hair, frustrated with Gisella's sudden change of demeanor. His gaze shifted to his sister, who was watching intently, pretending that she wasn't. "Marcella, sister darling, please give us a moment."

Marcella hesitated, looking between her brother and her new friend. When Gisella nodded her head, Marcella wandered off, looking over her shoulder every few seconds. Alexander waited until his sister was around the bend before sighing, running a hand across his face.

"My life is in just as much danger as yours," Alexander tried to reason.

Gisella shook her head, pulling at her curls, "But you are used to it. Your life has been endangered since your birth, mine hasn't. You have never been an ally to these people, I once was. Now they'll be watching me like a hawk and if I step one foot out of line, on either side mind you, I'll be killed."

Alexander shook his own head, taking a step towards the panicked maiden. "No, I'll make sure no one touches you."

"Why?"

Alexander hesitated. It was a load question coming from a girl who was on the brink of breaking into hysterics. He knew he had to answer the question carefully, or he may just end up as a dead body in the corridor.

"Because," Alexander started, searching for words, "because as my future wife, I have a duty to protect you."

"It's all pretend," Gisella dismissed, turning on her heels and briskly walking away.

Alexander jogged to catch up to the blonde, grabbing her arm and spinning her around. "It doesn't have to be," he stated sincerely, "we'll be married until death and we'll be expected to bear children together, we can learn to tolerate each other, become friends, and maybe even learn to love one another."

The idea of raising her children in the place she had learned to hate while growing up made her stomach feel queasy. She had been taught to hate the royal family, they were monsters, and despite her fear of the revolutionists, she still shared the same beliefs as them.

"I will never subject my children to the horrors of this life," she hissed, tearing her arm away from his shocked frame and stormed down the corridor.