"You are McKenzie Elizabeth Tremayne, the only daughter of King Louis of Ardmore and Queen Kenzie. Your father is one of the, if not the biggest arms dealer in the empire. You were born twenty-three years ago, which would have made you elligible for marriage at least five years ago, but being the only daughter I presume that your father dotes on you and therefor wished to allow you some chosing in your future husband.<br/>"Your friends, of which you do not have many, call you Liz. Your favorite passtime is spending time in the gardens tending the flowers. You are, as you put it, a political show piece to your father, who does not hesitate to use you for his own financial gain."<br/><br/>Glaran delivered this information to the princess without the least hint of emotion. He lenghtened his pace, passing Elizabeth before turning around so she was forced to stop. Despite the way his words were delivered only moments ago, his eyes were well ablaze with anger. What exactly had caused him to explode was unclear.<br/><br/>"You are also a snobbish, whiny little bitch who has experienced absolutely nothing of life outside her golden cage. Do you think your feet hurt? Consider the agony of those who have crossed your father one too many times and have lost limbs in his dungeons. Imagine the mothers, the fathers, the sons and daughters of those who have not survived the rot set in wounds that were never meant to be completely healed. Think about the hungry, the homeless, all those people who live in the shadow of your Palace, waking up each morning to gaze upon your splendour. Think of them when you consider your own situation before all others."<br/><br/>There was true anger behind the assassin's words, emotion dripping from every syllable. It was clear that what he said came from the heart, and something must have happened in the past to cause the hurt that formed the words thrown at the princess.