The Lady, or the Tiger: The End

As much as it pains me to admit, this story is out of my hands. The princess's character has already determined the fate of her lover, and who am I to change that? Though I will not say whether or not I agree with her choices, I will be more than happy to present to you what those choices are.

She knew what was waiting behind each of those doors. She'd made it her business to know. But which door would she choose? He was relying on her, after all. Even after several weary days and sleepless nights, she still had not chosen. Should she let her lover die? No, the thought gave her shivers down her spine. She could not be so cruel as to let him be torn to shreds before her very eyes! But the thought of losing him, not to death, but another woman was just as horrible. How could she let him live and be married to the one woman she so hated?

Sitting next to her father and fiddling with the lace of her gown, she still didn't know.

Her face, calm and blank as a mask, never betrayed a single frantic thought that was rushing through her head. She watched him walk smoothly into the arena. Though he looked to be at ease, she knew him well enough to sense the underlying hint of fear emanating from his person. This was it. He would be turning to bow to her father soon and she knew if she wanted even a chance at directing him, it would have to be then. But which door would she choose?

Slowly, he spun and dropped gracefully into a bow. His eyes never left her face. Trust shone from them. She could feel tears coming to her eyes and was faintly disgusted with herself. She could not afford to become so emotional over a simple decision. After all, she would have many more to come once she gained control of the kingdom. Taking a deep breath to control her shaking nerves, she lifted her hand and flicked her wrist elegantly...to the right.

His relief was so palpable she could feel it from halfway across the arena where she sat.

Confidently, he stood up straight and marched unhesitantly to the right door. Grasping the handle firmly, he let it swing open gently. Every spectator leaned forward slightly in anticipation, trying to peer around the man and into the door. Every spectator, of course, except the princess. She leaned back slightly in her seat, gaze trained on his face.

As the lady stepped into the bright sunlight, she caught the hint of a smile on his face before he schooled his features into a mask of indifference. Turning away quickly, she jumped to her feet and left the arena to the sound of wedding bells and cheer.

Her tears fell thick and fast as she ran across the uneven flagstones. Tripping on the worn edge of a loose brick, she fell to her knees. The pain of the scrapes helped bring her mind back to reality. Pushing herself up gingerly, she brushed hair and tears away from her face. Smoothing her bloody palms down her skirt, she gathered the remains of her composure and walked on at a slow, sedate pace; trying to tell herself she didn't care. It didn't matter she had just lost the man she loved to the one woman she despised. It didn't matter that he had smiled at her and never even turned back to look at the one who had saved his life. It didn't matter that she could feel her heart breaking into tiny pieces, falling swifter and harder than tears ever would.

It was all for the best.