The masked stranger approached her slowly and averted her eyes from his, unable to look into the piercing blue depths of his gaze any longer knowing that now she would face the cold embrace of death. The accent he held was foreign, she recognized it as the common tongue of Desnians, a neighboring country that seemed to be constantly squabbling with their own. Was that why he’d set out to kill her? To cause a bought of chaos from within the kingdom in order to weaken their defenses? She supposed it didn’t truly matter at that point, he was already there with her in the most vulnerable position she could have possibly been in, with only a woolen shawl and thin night-slip shielding her delicate flesh from whatever murder weapon he’d opted to use on her. She sighed heavily and lifted her gaze again as he spoke words of comfort to her, but in response to them she merely shook her head.<br/><br/>“I don’t believe in the potential for a pleasant death, truthfully. There’s only a void awaiting us beyond our final breath, no matter what my father’s holy men claim. But I suppose if I’m going to be forced into it, either way, I might as well walk to it willingly,” she muttered with a small frown. Clearly, the young princess was a realist, and potentially a pessimist as well despite her privileged station. He promised her a quick, honorable, nearly painless death as he approached her, flexing his fingers at his sides all the while. It was more than many would have offered her, she supposed, and so she looked up into his eyes and peered into his very soul for a brief moment. His gaze was cool, and while many would interpret the emotion there as nonexistent, would dub him empty and soulless, she saw sadness there. He was in pain, and he most certainly didn’t enjoy the prospect of what he was doing but seemed that whether he enjoyed it or not he was going to go through with it.<br/><br/>The princess bit down firmly onto her lower lip as he reached his hand out slowly towards her face. Would he strangle her? Or perhaps his touch was laced with some poison that he held the antidote for. It would explain the silent, almost peaceful death of the guard at her door. She let out a trembling breath as she allowed her eyes to slip closed. She’d not win a fight against him, nor was there anywhere for her to run, so she may as well face her death with dignity. She was the one that had been dense enough to open her door to this masked assassin, after all, signing the death warrant that lingered over her head.<br/><br/>Deidra flinched as his hand came into contact with her cheek. She held her breath as she awaited death’s bitter kiss, her fingers digging into the soft fabric of the shawl she clutched around her shoulders. Despite her brief bout of mental preparation, the end didn’t seem to be coming for her as suddenly he jerked her hand back away from her face. She gasped sharply, stumbling back from him ever so slightly though he was fairly quick to reach forwards and grasp her a bit more harshly. Her eyes bulged open wide as she stared up at him, awaiting his next move as he looked at her with an expression that spoke of his shock, which seemed to be just as great as hers.<br/><br/><i>I-I can touch you.</i><br/><br/>He sounded in absolute awe at the prospect, oddly enough. His fingertips ran slowly down her cheeks and then they dropped to her hands and gripped them gently. His hands dwarfed her own, as every other bit of him did as he stood a fair few heads taller than she. He released her hand suddenly and reached upwards, wrenching off her mask and revealing the admittedly handsome face that was hidden beneath. Deidra found herself beyond lost at the turn the night’s events had taken. First, she was having a perfectly pleasant evening in her dear sister’s company, then she was withering under the gaze of a faceless assassin, and finally she was being tugged suddenly into a desperate embrace, and groan of released tension escaping his lips as they pressed firmly against hers. She attempted to push him back and was fully prepared to bite down on his lip with all her might when suddenly he wrenched back, keeping a firm hold on her arms so she couldn’t squirm away from him.<br/><br/><i>You will come with me, you must.</i><br/><br/>Deidra furrowed her brow suddenly, her lip curling in a look of clear disdain as she began attempting to wrench herself away from his grasp. “I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, stranger, but if you think for even a moment I’d fall victim to this sort of deranged plea for my hand you’re delusional! And to think, you had me truly frightened for my life,” she spat irritably as she attempted to jerk away from him.<br/><br/>“Guards!” she cried out sharply, continuing to try and squirm from the grip of the clearly deranged stranger.