Albert crept silently across the darkened courtyard of the Royal Palace, feeling every muscle tense as adrenaline coursed through him. His heart pounded heavily against his chest as each step brought him closer to his target - the very place where it all started and will end. The thrill of vengeance burned within him like fire; it consumed all other thoughts except for one thing – revenge against those responsible for ruining his life.

He could see now why they called themselves "Royal" here—the opulence oozed from every nook and cranny under their watchful eyes of stone sentinels watching over them like silent protectors. But even they did not prevent him from climbing to the second floor and entering the room, since the windows are wide open on this warm night. Mercenary grabs the dagger on his belt, pulling it out with a quick, sharp movement and closing the distance between him and the heir to the throne. The person is sleeping sweetly in their crib when a man grabs them by the hair, pulling them off the bed to the floor and putting a weapon to their throats.

"Oh, did I wake you up, Your Majesty?" - the man sarcastically remarks "I'm sorry, I'm going to send you back to sleep soon, but it's going to be an eternal dream."

In the dim light of the room, Albert notices the frightened face of the person, and the tears coming. Damn it! His hand is shaking, and he can't strike in any way.