The garden was eerily silent after Nathaniel's departure, the faint rustle of leaves the only sound accompanying the pounding of my heart. I stood frozen for a moment, my hand still gripping the dagger hidden beneath my skirts. He was only twelve-a boy, really-but his words had carried a weight far beyond his years. There was something unsettling about him, something sharp and calculating that reminded me of myself.

I exhaled slowly, forcing my grip to relax as I turned back toward the palace. The shadows seemed deeper tonight, their edges curling around me like whispers of doubt. For all my training, for all my careful planning, I couldn't shake the unease that had been growing since the ball.

And then there was Lia.

---

Back in Lia's chambers, the princess was already asleep, her small frame curled beneath layers of silk and embroidery. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, that it was almost easy to forget the weight of the crown she would one day wear-or the target painted on her back because of it. And the fact I was the one tasked with hitting the bullseye.

I moved silently across the room, adjusting a stray blanket and extinguishing the last flickering candle. As I stood over her for a moment longer than necessary, an unwelcome thought crept into my mind: She's just a child.

It wasn't the first time I'd thought it, but tonight it felt heavier somehow. Ophelia trusted me completely-relied on me in ways I doubted she even realized. And yet here I was, tasked with ending her life when the time came. My mission had always been clear: infiltrate the palace, gain her trust, and strike when ordered. But now... now I wasn't so sure.

I turned away abruptly, retreating to my own quarters before those thoughts could take root any further.

The next morning brought no respite from the storm brewing within me. The palace buzzed with preparations for the engagement ceremony, and I threw myself into assisting Lia with every detail-choosing fabrics for her gown, coordinating with servants, and ensuring she remained composed despite her nerves.

"Calliope," Lia said softly as we sat together in her chambers that afternoon, "do you think Nathaniel likes me?"

The question caught me off guard. I glanced at her, noting the faint blush on her cheeks and the way she twisted a ribbon between her fingers. She looked so vulnerable in that moment-so human.

"I think he respects you," I replied carefully. It wasn't a lie; respect was something Nathaniel seemed to value above all else.

Lia frowned slightly but nodded. "Father says this marriage is important for our kingdoms," she murmured. "But what if... what if I'm not good enough?"

I reached out instinctively, placing a hand over hers. "You're more than good enough," I said firmly. "You're kind and brave and stronger than you realize."

Her eyes met mine then-wide and trusting-and for a fleeting moment, I hated myself for what I was meant to do.

As days turned into weeks and preparations for the engagement ceremony continued, my doubts only grew stronger. Every time Lia laughed at one of my jokes or leaned on me for support during a stressful moment, it became harder to reconcile the girl she was with the target she represented.

Even during moments of calm-like when we walked together in the gardens or read stories by candlelight-I found myself questioning everything I'd been taught. Was my Lia truly an obstacle to be removed? Or had I been wrong about her all along?

But doubt was dangerous in my line of work. It clouded judgment and opened doors to mistakes-mistakes that could cost lives. Particularly mine.

One evening, as we sat by the fire after another long day of preparations, Lia turned to me with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

"Calliope," she began hesitantly, "do you ever wonder what your life would be like if things were... different?"

The question struck a chord deep within me-one I hadn't allowed myself to acknowledge until now.

"Different how?" I asked cautiously.

She shrugged slightly, staring into the flames. "If you weren't here... if you weren't my lady-in-waiting... what would you want to do?"

I hesitated for a moment before replying honestly-perhaps too honestly. "I don't know," I admitted softly. "Sometimes it feels like this is all there is."

Lia nodded thoughtfully but didn't press further. Instead, she reached out and took my hand in hers-a small gesture that felt far heavier than it should have.

"I'm glad you're here," she said simply.

And just like that, another crack formed in my resolve.

That night, as I lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling, Nathaniel's words from the garden echoed in my mind: There's something about you that doesn't quite fit.

He wasn't wrong. For all my training and discipline-for all my carefully constructed lies-there was a part of me that didn't fit anymore. A part of me that questioned whether this mission was worth completing at all.

But doubt wouldn't save me if I failed to act when the time came. If King Alden or anyone else suspected my hesitation, they wouldn't hesitate to eliminate me-and perhaps even Lia along with me.

For now, I would continue playing my role as dutiful Calliope-the loyal shadow at Lia's side-but deep down, I couldn't ignore the growing conflict within me.

Because somewhere along the way, protecting Lia had stopped being just another part of my mission-it had become something far more personal.