Iris took in a deep breath, standing before a full-length mirror. She was backstage, behind a turquoise, velvet curtain, awaiting her cue. The sound of the townspeople chattering stirred the butterflies in Iris's stomach, and she took a few more steadying breaths, eyeing her reflection.

Early that morning, one of the maids had bustled into her room while she was still half-asleep in bed, presenting her with an array of dresses to pick from, all elegantly formal and far more prestigious than she felt. By the time she had sorted through all twenty-six dresses that had been lined up on a moveable clothes rack, she had started to notice the Terra District's patriarchal, earthy colour schematics. Not that she was complaining. Her favourite colour, ironically enough, had always been emerald, anyhow.

Despite this, she didn't pick any of the four emerald-coloured options available to her, but rather, her eyes were drawn to the golden-brown dress that glimmered in the light. The dress was extremely low-cut, making a sharp V-neck, and the back was even lower, coming up just above her waist-line. The dress was made of a thin, synthetic material that hung loosely and comfortably on her body. It flowed down limply by her ankles, the back of the dress trailing slightly on the floor like a glittering, golden tail. She felt immensely out of place in golden, open-toed heels, and was thankful she had at least chosen the two-inch block heels rather than the black stilettos she had eyed. They were incredibly hard to walk in and she couldn't imagine anyone voluntarily wearing these things.

Iris sighed through her nose, her eyes wandering to her dirty-blonde hair, pinned back with a huge, brown clip shaped in a flower, completely revealing her facial features – a slightly long nose, hazel eyes, and her pale lips that had been painted a simple, nude colour, yet felt oddly unnatural.

Was lipstick always this dry? And mascara always so thick and heavy?

The maids that had styled her had done an amazing job at reinventing her, Iris wasn't denying that. But it all felt so wrong and unnecessary. And she had stated it too, when they began brushing over her eyelids with a shimmering bronze colour and covered her face with a substance the same colour as her skin, before applying some powder and highlights to her cheeks.

She had thought that new clothes changed her appearance, but this... with the make-up and the hair and this dress... she was a whole new person. She was no longer Iris, the Street Rat. This was a girl entirely unknown to her.

And she had yet to decide if she quite liked that.

Two security guards had escorted her to the town hall through a secret, underground tunnel – there seemed to be plenty of secret passageways around the district, all used by authorised personnel. She hadn't gotten to see the outside of the hall. The tunnel had led to a trap door backstage, where she stood now. Iris scanned the ropes and dim light, the backstage dark and a little dusty. The wooden floor below her creaked slightly, and it was safe to assume that this must have been one of the first buildings that they had made. This led her to wonder how old it was exactly. If the Elemental War had only been going on for fifteen years, then had this underground place existed before then? Perhaps the Terrans had once stocked their weapons below ground. Although she hadn't seen any so far. Did they even need weapons when they had magic at their disposal? Still so many questions, and ones she knew could only be answered by a Terran.

All that information Raena and Braedon had given her the previous night had left her too tired to fall asleep, and she had tossed and turned in her bed, mulling over each scrap of thought in thorough detail before disregarding it with another. On top of that, just like Jasper had had assured during their dinner, someone had indeed come up to her room yesterday night when she came back to her own room. The kind maid didn't say anything about her being illiterate, thankfully. She simply began reading aloud, and Iris began repeating it to her, until almost an hour later, she had most of it memorised, and the maid left her with no more than an encouraging nod. Iris was not in the least bit surprised when it turned out Jasper had indeed written everything that she suspected he would try to promote.

False hope. That's all she was right now. To both this district, and to Raena.

Braedon had been right. She had no idea what she was doing, if she could really convince Jasper to put together an extraction team for someone they had long-since forgotten. The idea that no one in this city would help someone so renowned, someone who had spent his entire life serving Terrans, serving their queen, risking his life for theirs... it didn't sit well with Iris, to say the least, that they would not return the favour.

She thought to convince Jasper that saving Caedus's best archer would come in handy in this war, but a part of her doubted that she could fool him that easily, or that Sage would even want to spend the rest of his life serving Jasper, instead. And hence, the other, more disturbing reason she had picked this particular dress, that showed off more than she was comfortable with. She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to consider that option but if she had to... she swallowed. She felt like a hypocrite telling Amira all those times not to use her body to get what she wanted from guys, and yet, it seemed that here she was, doing willing to do exactly that.

She shook her head, letting out a slightly disgusted noise in her throat. So far, she hadn't even seen Jasper. She had thought Jasper would be escorting her to the Town Hall, but apparently, she was to make a surprise entrance on stage, while he took the more open route, in the limelight, of course.

The crowd beyond the curtains suddenly went into a hushed silence, and Iris could only assume the Commanding Officer had entered the building, right on cue. She heard the sound of booted feet climbing up the left steps leading to the podium she was told was awaiting her, centre stage.

There was a tap of a microphone before Jasper's familiar voice echoed throughout the hall.

"Terran citizens," his voice boomed, clean and crisp, and older than he actually was. "I've called together an urgent town meeting this morning as I have a very important guest coming to speak to you all today."

There was a pause, and Iris could almost feel the buzz of apprehension in the air, the aura of wonder and intrigue. She nervously revised her dot points she had made in her mind from Jasper's script.

She was to thank the citizens for their perseverance and patience. Assure them that now that she was back, she would ensure their victory. Then condole them for all they had lost and further reassure them that it would not be for naught.

Basically, she was to emotionally manipulate them by first shocking them with her appearance and kindness, then instil a sense of joy and hope. Then remind them of their sorrow and anger to influence and win their approval.

Shock. Hope. Sorrow.

Three of the most influential emotions. And funnily enough, the most easily manipulatable.

She had to hand it to Jasper, he could be a total, inconsiderate ass, but he certainly knew how to strategically plan. Maybe that's how he had found himself leading the entire district.

It wasn't until one of the bulky security men had gently grabbed her arm and lead her to the edge of the curtains, did Iris realise she had completely tuned out Jasper's current speech to the citizens.

"...and thus," he was saying. "With a new day, comes a new beginning. Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me the immense pleasure and honour to present to you all..."

Your false hope, Iris thought unenthusiastically, looking down at her exposed tattoo. The maids had ensured that all the dresses she chose were short-sleeved, exposing her birthmark for all to see.

"Our token of hope, a blessing and sign from the gods themselves," Jasper paused slightly for dramatic suspense, and Iris would have rolled her eyes had her hands not begun shaking so badly. "The prophecy is unfolding, and it is my pleasure to welcome onto this stage, our long-lost Terran heir, daughter of our Queen Freya..."

Whispers had already begun at this, and Iris pressed her shaking hands firmly against her thighs. She knew this moment would change everything. Once she walked out there, she would no longer be an inconspicuous shadow, unrecognisable like the Street Rat she had been all her life. All these people would hereafter know her – hell, look up to her. She smacked her dry lips together.

"Princess Volterra Caedusis," Jasper announced proudly. "Royal heir to our once united nation, Caedus."

With a gentle shove from the security guard, Iris stepped out from behind the curtains and into the blinding stage lights.

***

It took all of Iris's will to move her feet, to continue moving towards that damned podium in the middle of the stage, which felt so much further away when she had a sea of eyes and gaping mouths directed towards her. She kept her head held high, and eyes averted, like the maid had forewarned her.

One step, two steps. Breath.

It didn't help that Jasper had almost stumbled off the podium himself after he stole a glance at her. Sure, that was the reaction she had been hoping for, but not here, not now. She could barely keep from tripping herself.

She almost preferred the whisperings over the dead silence that now settled over the hall. Anything was better than hearing the sound of her own heels clopping and creaking loudly on the wooden stage.

She wondered if they could see her heated face under all the foundation and lights. Or her wobbling knees as she took one unsteady step after another.

Damn these stupid heels. And this damn dress that was so damn unnecessary. Damn the whole bloody speech and Jasper's sick attempt to use her as propaganda.

She finally made it to the podium, and she didn't dare eye Jasper beside her as she forced herself to look into the swarm of faces staring back at her with dumbfounded expressions.

Not a single person clapped. No one spoke. Hell, Iris wondered if they were even breathing still, or if they had all gone into some kind of state of paralysis.

Iris grimaced. First emotional manipulation: Shock. Check.

She cleared her throat. "Citizens of Terra," she recited with a voice foreign to her own ears. She sounded so detached from her own emotions, so certain and firm. Was this her princess-like instincts emerging, or was she just extremely good at lying?

"I'd like to thank you all personally for coming together during such a dire time. I'm sure you have all sensed my presence these past days," Iris recited. "And I know you must all have many questions, such as my whereabouts for the past fifteen years."

She risked a glance at Jasper, but he was staring straight ahead, eyeing the crowd. Scanning to see if the speech was working the way he wanted it to.

She returned her attention to the crowd of coloured faces before her. "For now, all you need to know is that I was saved by one of your own, and now that I am back, I plan to make great changes."

Phase two of emotional manipulation: Hope.

Slowly, the crowd seemed to be snapping out of their daze, small mutterings stirring in the crowd, a few staring at her with both curiosity and awe and excitement at the prospect of their princess returning. Many were staring at her arm. She could feel their burning gazes, and she wanted nothing more than to scrape off that tattoo right about now.

"For too long, this war has endlessly cycled, showing no signs of end. Terrans have been driven underground, forced to scatter, like ants."

More murmurs rippled among the large crowd, some shifting in their seats to get a better view of the princess.

"Well I say, no more," Iris paused, clenching her teeth, disgusted at the words coming out of her mouth. "It's time we fought back for what rightfully belongs to us. For our families and friends, we have lost. For the younger generation who have been forced to live their lives below ground, never having experienced the world above, never having a taste of fresh air. We must get up and fight again, for our Queen Freya, who did so much to ensure our wellbeing and happiness during the days of the Kingdom."

People were nodding, smiling, and Iris's stomach clenched. The lies she was feeding these people. And they were just gobbling it all up.

"Well, now I'm ensuring the same euphoria to you all," Iris's voice rose. "I have been separated from my people – from you all – for too long, and while I can't make up for lost time, for all the tragedy that has occurred, the loss each and every one of you has faced in this merciless war..."

Phase three: Sorrow. People's murmurs became sad, and the aura in the hall turned dark and melancholic.

"I'm here to help," Iris said firmly, the only true words she wished to believe in this whole damn speech. "I'm back, and I believe that united, we stand stronger than ever." She nodded several times, scanning the sea of hopeful faces. "We will reclaim our land."

The murmuring rose, and someone in the far back row cheered enthusiastically, followed by an encouraging whistle.

"Already, a plan of action is being enforced as we speak. And I know," she said a little more quietly. "I know fifteen years is a long time to be holding out, and it seems like this war may never end. But we cannot lose hope now. We cannot simply sit back and let ourselves be run down into the ground any longer. We will emerge."

A few more cheers. Iris could taste the bile in her throat, could feel her stomach that churned in shame.

"But I can't do it alone," Iris said, not daring to stare too long at those closest to the stage, mothers who had tears of relief in their eyes, holding their children and grinning at Iris as if she were some kind of salvation to them all.

She broke out in a sweat, closing her eyes for a moment. How had Tyrone done it? How did he find the courage to hold the Street Rats together, bind them as family, give them hope even when they had none?

"I'll need volunteers, those willing to help with our cause. Those willing to risk their lives in order to save millions of others, to save our children. To provide a better, brighter future." Iris almost balked.

One man in the back stood up suddenly, bowing his head.

"Your highness," he called out, placing two fingers across his chest, over his heart. "It would be my honour to serve the royal bloodline once again." He grinned and opened his arms wide to the people in a welcoming gesture. "Your wish is my command, your highness. Long live the new Queen!"

Iris's stomach did another flip, and she fought back the urge to turn to Jasper and punch him square in the face. Is this really what Jasper wanted out of all this? To use her to risk other people's lives on the line? Using their faith against them, blinding them with the morbid reality that seemed beknown to all the citizens in this room: they were being used.

They were being used in his obsession with winning the war, and as a result, they were going to die. This wasn't about his people at all. It was dawning on Iris now, as she noted how Jasper's eyes twinkled gleefully, how his chest popped out proudly, a cynical smile plastered on his face. This wasn't about the people at all. Winning this war was personal to Jasper. How hadn't it been clearer before?

As far as Iris was aware, there was no new attack strategy. No secret way to end this stupid war. Jasper just needed more soldiers. More volunteers willing to sell their soul to him, to this stupid cause. His cause. His personal affairs.

Iris barely registered the roaring crowd who chanted "Long live the new Queen!", nor did she even blink as Jasper's lackeys slowly hushed the bustling crowd, and everyone settled back into their seats, just waiting to eat up Iris's – Jasper's – next words. Her focus was entirely on the conniving Commanding Officer, the cogs in her mind whirring speedily.

"Alliances shall be formed," Iris continued, her voice unnaturally steady, despite the earthquake she knew was waiting to explode within. "Terrans will prevail, as we have always. We did so in the Great War, and we will again in this one. As long as I am here, I will not allow Terrans to learn the meaning of failure."

Another man stood up, then a woman, and soon, the entire room was standing once again. They were all clapping or cheering or tearing up, staring at her as if she were truly the answer to all their prayers. Security was moving to calm everyone again, but a slight lift of Jasper's fingers, and they stood their ground. Jasper was basking in all this attention, all the glory. He sidled closer to Iris, nudging her to continue over the emotional crowd. Iris took another breath.

"Citizens of Terra," she spoke loudly over the noise of the cheering crowd, digging her nails into the palms of her hands to keep from walking directly off that stage. "I have returned." The cheering increased, and her voice rose. "Allow me to be your rock during these dark times, the earthquake that will shake the other districts so horrifically, that they will all think twice before ever attempting to face another Terran again."

The hall broke into a thunderous applause and yells of approval, people holding their fists in triumph, small children in all their naivety, following suit of their parents, grinning and yelling joyfully at the top of their lungs, hugging their mothers and fathers who embraced them fiercely in turn.

The smile she gave the people was so fake, so forced, that Iris wondered if her face might crack. Though she doubted anyone would notice under her caked makeup.

With all the grace and steadiness, she could muster, she turned from the podium, catching Jasper's eye.

The Commanding Officer was standing with such pride and satisfaction, she could have spat in his face. How easy it was for him to stand there while she fed them the lies he had concocted. What were a few or even a thousand lives to him anyway? While his inferiors walked above ground, following his every order, he got to stay below in the comforts and safety of this district, in the luxury that was his mansion. He was fed and looked after better than any of these people, she had no doubt.

The Commanding Officer gave her a small smile, nodding his approval.

The crowd was still cheering and celebrating, the air abuzz with newfound hope and excitement.

But what the Commanding Officer hadn't noticed was that she had used his own game against him. Those three emotions he was recklessly using to manipulate the audience, she was contemporarily returning the favour, and that reminder left a shadow of a sly smile creep along her face.

Shock – the outfit she had chosen to impress and surprise him.

Hope – her convincing, memorised performance had Jasper hoping his plans were falling right into place.

No one noticed the cold, hateful look Iris now gave Jasper, save for the Commanding Officer himself, and for the briefest moment, his smile faltered, and his eyes conveyed more than a shadow of concern for her. He looked almost... afraid.

Good, Iris thought vehemently. Because the last thing she would make sure Jasper felt, was sorrow. For all that he had done, and everything he planned to do. He would make him feel the same regret, the same sadness and despair that she had felt in the Terran people tonight. Jasper would reap what he sewed. She would make sure of that much.