You made a deal.

"She's doing just fine. She's twenty years old. She doesn't need someone to watch her."

She is dangerous and young. She will put herself in danger. People will come after her.

"Exactly, she is dangerous, and she is a princess. No one can, or will, touch her."

His footsteps stopped at the portal to Earth. Eyes reflecting the void before him, he let out a long sigh. With eyes now closed, a memory surfaced: a young girl, running across the palace gardens. Her giggle, faint but clear, reached the forefront of his mind. Her smile, wide for her small features, and her mahogany red hair, sitting like a lion's mane upon her head, filled his thoughts.

He had been tasked with watching her then, as he had watched countless others. But she had been different. Her innocence and contagious laughter still tugged at something inside him, something he couldn't quite grasp.

The image shifted. The girl, older now, lay sprawled across her bed, arranging flowers into her tiara with her older brother. He took a sip from a faux teacup and whispered something to her. Her giggle sounded again, but this time, it was followed by silent tears that crept down her cheeks.

He realized too late- all of the flowers before her were wilted, but not from age. From tears. The image hit him harder than it should have. A flicker of guilt flashed over his cold features, but he wiped it away hastily. He had made his choice.

His eyes snapped open with a sharp breath, staring straight ahead once again.

You made a deal.

Besides, you are Death, after all, and Death never makes a deal without his fingers crossed behind his back.

He took a step forward. A corner of his mouth twitched into a barely-there grin as he was engulfed by the void before him.