You knew of the revolution against your family. You all had known, even if just barely. Your father had warned you that the revolution was coming, that it would be soon, but it had never prepared you for the slaughter of your parents and siblings. It couldn't be ever prepared you for the blood, the screams, the corpses piled up.

You had fled the ball room running deeper into the palace. You couldn't let the rebels slaughter you too. You ran to your quarters, grabbing your blade from it's display. You stood there waiting for an intruder to set foot into your room. Finally the intruder entered, except he was no intruder, he was one frequently welcomed into the room. It was Thorne, your best friend, with a blade in hand.

He stepped forward, a blank look on his face as he approached you. You backed away, pressing your body against the wall. You didn't want to hurt him, but it was clear he would kill you.

"What is this, Thorne?" You asked, despite knowing what he intended to do.

"I apologize, friend, I plan on making this as painless as possible for you... You haven't done anything but exist... But you know that I cannot allow you to continue living... I do this for the kingdom, my beauty, what choice do I have but simple duty!?"