[b]A feeling of pure dread filled Ellanor's stomach as Marken called out that dreaded name, [i]Cindrerella[/i]. Why the hell did she tell him to call her that? What was worse was that the bothersome prince was smarter than he expected, obviously figuring out that she wasn't what she seemed. Damn it all, he was searching the room now.

Slowly, the footsteps neared her hiding spot and she pulled out the dagger she kept in her skirts, squeezing her eyes shut. She was going to have to kill him to get out. He would remember her face, have a man hunt to track her down. Damn it, she didn't know if she [i]could[/i] take a life.

Then, the prince stepped next to the book shelf, just around the corner and she whirled around, dagger drawn. Her blade pressed against his neck as she slammed him into the shelves, but she hesitated, holding it there instead. Damn it, she needed to kill him and escape.

"Don't. Move."

Ellanor stared quietly at Marken with quiet rage for a few moments, but she couldn't bring herself to kill him. She was supposed to be making the world a better place by helping her king wipe out the Rhal royal family, but not like this. It was cowardly to assassinate.

"Let me leave here quietly, and there won't be any need for a scene," Ellanor told Marken softly, "and stop calling me that damned name. We both know that I didn't give you my real identity."[/b]