The ball was droll, but you were certain you wouldn't have a knife stuck inches from your head if you hadn’t fled your engagement party, wouldn't you?

”What are you doing out here Your Highness? Sneaking out?” The glare of his blades was deterring as they swung through his fingers; his words not without a morsel of dig: an assassin.

God, you were prudent enough to ditch your moronic fiance, hoping to roam into the city alone, but now, you're reaping the fallouts of your effort.