Sara

The girl was dreaming of the past.

In that mask, she had called herself Sara Dalmati.

Sara twisted the coin she earned with several hours of hard work in her dirty fingers. Her previous alias, Giulia, would have twisted her nose at her sight, but she was no longer wearing that mask. Sara had long straight dark hair, worked as a stable maid for twelve hours per day and rested for six. Every day, the remainder time was spend osserving the Florence white palace from a distance.

It had been twenty years ever since she had been exiled by the mist people, the mark still burning fresh on her filthy skin. She had hid for a while, whilst Guglielmo raged all over the country to find the missing princess Giulia. For some reason she never understood, the price never made public the events of the night she tried to kill him. Maybe it was pride, the need to look strong in front of his subjects.

But maybe it was still foolish love.

Not that she thought all human love was foolish. No, she stopped mocking the mortals for their feelings a while back. But the idea that Guglielmo had loved her mask, a mere fiction, looked pretty stupid from her perspective.

Sara had altered her appearance and moved from town to town, village to village, waiting for the waters to calm down. She should have left the country, lived safely in England or the Northen countries, but she couldn't help herself.

Giulia might have been gone, but she still needed to know if Guglielmo was going to turn rotten and make his people bleed. The pact she made with herself was simple: had the prophecy of the mist people turned true, she would have killed Guglielmo with no hesitation. She would have begged the immortals to take her back, even if begging wasn't truly her style.

Ten years after the exile she came back to Florence with a new identity. Anyone even remembering Giulia would expect her to look much older, and she still had the features of an eighteen years old.

Sara was meant to be an orphan girl with no one in the world to take care of her, asking for a simple job in the town to turn her life around. This mask felt uncomfortable on her as it was almost too close to reality. She made Sara terribly shy and modest, just to prevent herself from being too similar.

It didn't matter too much though, as Sara only existed with the purpose to observe, not interact.

The girl looked at the caste from the hill where she was sitting. The servants went to and from the river to wash dishes and royal clothes. A few knights in shining armour were duelling in front of the entrance and she decided to walk closer. She needed information on how the reign was being run, and if she learned anything in all those years as a spy, was that men were even worst at gossiping than their ladies.

Sara hid behind a bush and sat quietly whilst cleaning her own nails. Had she been Giulia, she would have outright gone straight to the nights and tried to seduce the answers out of them. But Sara? She preferred the shadows. She found people were more honest when they thought no one was watching. For better or worse.

One of the knights twisted his torso to avoid the friend's blade. Their practise game seemed a bit too real to the girl, but the knight simply laughed and threw himself in a series of ferocious attacks. His opponent had no other option if not ducking and making his sword fall to the ground.

-Guess who has won, once again- he said throwing his helmet to to ground.

Sara almost screamed out loud when she saw the young man hidden in the armour. The blond curls, the clever eyes and the wide grin. The boy was Guglielmo, only too young to be so. The boy could have looked not a day above seventeen.

-Ah, ah. Very funny Marco - said the other recollecting his own sword. -Do trust me, if it wasn't for your father being the King, I would have surely kicked your princeling ass. -

Father, of course. The boy had to be Guglielmo's son. Sara almost slapped herself for being so naive. She knew that her former husband had remarried a year after she left him barely alive in his room. The fruit of that second marriage had been an heir, Marco I, prince of Florence and the other lands. But the resemblance ... she did not expect him to be so similar.

- a Prince ass not for much longer my friend - replied Marco flipping his sword in the air. - I told you my father wants to crown me as soon as I become of age -

-I still don't get how anyone would willingly give up being king, even for his own son. Why not wait until his death?-

Marco rolled his eyes. - Father wants to be sure I don't have to cope with the responsibility of being King altogether like he had to. You know, with the whole Grandmother dying a year after his first wife left him and all that. -

Sara had never thought too much about how her short presence in Guglielmo's life could have affected his future. But a string in her heart cried at the though of the young, reckless boy she knew crushed by all that responsibility by himself. Mortal or not, she understood loneliness. No wonder he tried to remarry so soon.

A hand wrapped around her mouth, preventing her from screaming. She kicked her attacked in the gut with her elbow, making them step back as she recovered from the surprised.

If it was the stable boy who had already tried to force himself upon her last month, she would kill him. She thought that cutting a delicate part of his genitals off had been enough of a warning to let her be, but she could give a more effective hint.

Even if she had promised never to kill.

But she had also promised Guglielmo her hand for the rest of her life and see how that turned out.

Promises were just pretty lies dressed in fancy words to make people feel better about themselves.

She prepared to strike with the knife she had hidden in the unappealing sack she was wearing, but paused at the sight of the attacker.

The man looked much older than her, maybe in his fourties. He had both hands raised, asking for a truce. She would have not believed him hadn't it been for the grin that reached his bright blue eyes, as sincere as they were when she first met him.

-Giulia - he whispered. His eyes were wet with tears.

Sara recovered quickly from her shock and bent in a deep curtesy. -My king, I am afraid you have me mistaken for someone else. I apologise for the hurt I caused you, but a young lady must be able to defend herself -

Guglielmo was not fooled easily by her lies. He crossed his arms and kept grinning, as if twenty years had never passed. - I don't think so. Changing your hair was a nice touch, but I would recognise your face anywhere. I am also going to assume Giulia is not your true name? Or that you have not aged because you are not human? I may play the part of the fool sometimes, but I am the King of Italy and I could get you killed if I command so. -

Sara saw no point in lying any further. The Guglielmo she knew was long dead, in his instance a King with his features had taken his place. The knights were far away from their hears but she had no doubt he could call them and order her arrested.

-I do not know my real name - she answered truthfully. - And I am an immortal soul. This is all. -

Guglielmo raised an eyebrow, as if the revelation was no knowledge he couldn't have gained by himself. -And you decided to marry me and attempt to kill me for the sake of it?-

Sara didn't know how much of the mist people mortals were allowed to know, but she figured the less the better. Guglielmo had found Giulia charming, and he hadn't killed her yet, so maybe she could avoid further questioning by abandoning the mask of Sara for a while.

Giulia grinned back and threw her hair over the shoulder. Guglielmo seemed taken back by her memory.

-I was ordered to do it by someone more ancient than immortals - she answered criptically. -You do not want to know the details. Some truths are better to be left untold.-

-Why?- a single word. The question that tormented her to sleep every night.

Giulia adjusted the dress along her hips. -You were meant to be the cause of great suffering for your people. - she said. She could have lied, and he would have believed it. But for some reason, she wanted him, a mortal, to know that she wasn't a cold blooded murderer. That she had a good motive for trying to kill him. -But I didn't see how that could be the case, so I didn't complete the job. And was exiled from my people from it. -

....

Author note: Hallo! Welcome back and don't forget to like and comment the story!  It means a lot to me to know what you think!!