My lucky break is a wrinkly old hunchbacked man with a look in his yellow eyes that makes my skin want to peal off. He looks at me as I saunter down the street and grins.
"You look remarkably similar to the King."
He states this plainly, as if he's informing me of something I don't already know. I'm a royal bastard, and I'll be damn sure everyone that gets in my way knows it. I rule these streets; I steal, kill and ruin lives professionally. Because I'm forgotten and disenfranchised with life. Making others unhappy makes me happy, so why the hell not.
I spit on his shoes for that remark of his, and threaten more if he doesn't shut his fucking face.
He doesn't lose his calm composure. Instead, his grin gets wider, and he offers me a proposition I can't refuse. It promises to be way to much fun.
-\/-
When I look in the mirror I don't recognize myself. My black hair is smoothed back so no one recognizes my less than manageable hair. The suit I'm wearing is a pristine black, with highlights in red and my feet are clad in expensive boots that click when I walk. To help with my disguise I have a simple masquerade mask covering the upper half of my face.
Xehanort looks pleased with himself.
"Remember, you must kill the prince before midnight."
I scoff at him, as if that will be a problem. The real problem will be killing the right one. The queen gave birth to happy little blond headed twins. I can't tell them apart, but I've got a fifty fifty chance, and really it doesn't matter to me which one I knock off. I'd do this job if I was being paid for it or not, but having a sponsor helps.
These half siblings of mine are maggot food, they'll stink just like I do by the time I'm done with them. They just don't know it yet.
-\/-
This ball disgusts me. There is so much food, and everyone here is happy and frivolous. I thought I would be over dressed, but in fact I'm under dressed. Everyone here glitters with gold and silver, jewelry that I could pawn for enough food to feed me for the rest of my life. I have to remind myself I'm not here to pickpocket.
They're all ignoring the food, chatting pleasantly with one another, but they aren't saying a damn thing. It's all idiotic bull shit, like how this or that is marvelous, how this or that is below their standards. I hate aristocrats, but when you carve them up they squeal like pigs. I have to admit, I like that aspect of them.
I'm telling myself to eat only a few bites and toss whatever I have away when the King and Queen make their entrance. I'd kill him too, but it isn't on the agenda for tonight. After him enter his sons, in contrasting outfits of white and black. How cute, they match. I always liked ruining sets.
The King says a few words and everyone claps – not to loud though, that would take to much effort for these people. The King and Queen take their seats at the head of the banquet hall, and the servants rush to bring them food.
The princes roam. First they stick together, laughing and generally enjoying themselves. But a cute little black haired thing catches the attention of one of them, and he abandons his brother's side with an excited, innocent look on his face.
The other brother is occupied, so I'll target the one that is now alone. He mingles with a few people here and there before spotting a couple who have kept to the side lines and gravitating towards them. They smile and laugh and joke, but after a while the woman gets a look in her eye, and the pair bid the prince good tidings and head for the dance floor.
The little prince is all alone now. It's time to really start this game.
If Xehanort wanted someone to do this gracefully or swiftly he shouldn't have picked me. I intend to have some fun tonight.
I approach him from behind and startle him. He whirls around, blue eyes wide and curious.
"Dance with me."
I don't ask him. Before his mind even recognizes what I've told him to do I've taken his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor.
I've always been light footed, and I've been studying the other guests as they whirl and twirl around the dance floor. I'm confident that I can do something as stupid as this. I take the lead and he has no choice but to follow me He's slow, for someone who's suppose to rule a country in the future.
Once it dawns on him that we're dancing, and that I'm leading him, his face flushes, and then angers. I know people are looking at us, at the improper man who is making the prince into his bitch. I've always liked attention. The red on his face is also very entertaining, I can't help but smirk.
The prince catches me by surprise; at a slight shift in the music, he changes our positions and takes charge. Then it is him leading me around the room, which isn't acceptable. I'm no one's woman. He gives me a cocky smile, but despite everything, it is still a genuine smile.
"It's proper to ask before you dance with someone, you know."
He says that as if I care about what the proper thing to do is. If I was a proper person then I wouldn't be here. But despite these things, I offer him a confident smirk in response. He's already falling under the spell. The prince is a curious creature, he will want to know who I am, why I wear a mask. All of these things will keep him interested in our little exchange. As long as I don't push him away, this will be easy.
When the song finishes, his hands fall away, and he looks sheepish. I think he's wondering what to do next when it dawns on him. He grabs my hand and drags me off to a balcony over looking the courtyard, away from prying eyes.
Once we're there he lets go of my hand and hoists himself up so that he's sitting on the high railing, facing towards me.
"You're not from around here."
As if that wasn't obvious. He is an idiot. A regular imbecile. I don't answer him, but it seems for him that's enough of an answer, and he smiles again.
"Did you come by yourself? Did you think this was a masquerade party?"
I only smirk at that. The only masked man at a party is sure to garner attention, it is not only to keep my face hidden. The prince pouts.
"Come on, say something!"
When I don't say anything, he looks a little sad. It turns to irritation quickly though.
"You were standing there by yourself all night just glowering at everyone. I just thought you'd like to talk. You looked like you needed a friend. You seemed lonely..."
He might be blushing, or I might be seeing red. How dare he say that to me. Me! This priggish, spoiled piece of trash is saying I'm lonely. I can't control what happens next. In a few large steps I've crossed the distance between us, gripped his collar and yanked him down so that we're face to face. I can see the whites of his eyes, the blood vessels that live there.
"Don't you dare assume you know me."
He seems taken back and surprised for a second, then he shoves me away with anger on his face. It's a hard shove, and it does put some distance between us. The prince quickly hops off the balcony rail and closes that distance again, getting into my face.
"Of course I don't know you, idiot! That's why I'm asking questions! Maybe if you had some friends you wouldn't be such a prick! You know if you'd try and get to know people you wouldn't hate them as much!"
Now would be the perfect time to put the switch blade in my pocket to good use. He's in my face and upset. It would take him a few moments to realize if something smooth slipped into his abdomen and that would give me plenty of time to run. It's what crosses my mind, but its not what I do. Instead I get even more angry.
"People are disgusting filth. They're all selfish and opportunistic. If I got to know people I'd hate them even more."
"Not all people are like that!"
"What do you know? You're a pampered selfish prince. You've had maids wiping your ass and servants attending your every beck and call for your entire life! You have no idea what the worlds like outside your ivory walls, and you stand there telling ME that people aren't horrible sniveling pigs? Ha!"
He stops at my last statement, his eyes wide and curious. I know I've said to much. I've lost my temper and now I'm not only mysterious, I'm suspicious. I'll have to do the deed soon, before he calls the guards to get rid of me.
Instead of doing the smart thing, he takes a hesitant step forward – as if he thinks I'm a dog that's going to bite him – and reaches down for my hand. Slowly he raises it up, and turns it over so he's looking at the palm. Then he looks at me and there's a hint of a smile on his face.
"You have rough hands. They've got calluses and scars."
He takes another look, and then the smile widens.
"A friend of mine says that you can tell a lot about a person from their hand. Every hand I ever looked at was the same. A long life line, with minimal wear and tear. I didn't believe her. But your hand is different. You've got a short life line, but it's so well defined. Your heart line is so strong at the beginning, the clearest I've ever seen. Then there are so many cuts, and it virtually disappears."
He looks up at me and the smile is still there mocking me.
"But it comes back, you know. Stronger than ever. You've been hurt a lot in your life time. You've worked hard and you've still been hurt by others. You don't think you're capable of loving others any more, but you are. It's all right here in the palm of your hand."
I snatch my hand away as if he's bitten me. No, he's done something far worse than hurt me. He's genuinely smiling, and I know why Xehanort wants this prince dead. He's dangerous. More dangerous than I will ever be.
I take a few steps back, cradling my hand as if I'm afraid it will fall off, and he just stands there smiling honestly at me. I've lost.
"Look out for a man named Xehanort."
I whisper it, knowing he will catch what I say, and run. I can hear the clock striking midnight as I run through the banquet hall, women screeching as I roughly push past them. The mask flutters away in my haste, but I don't care. I have to get out of here, and I don't look back.
