Initially, she thought they wanted her to marry the prince to alter his decisions. Not a simple role, and certainly not maintainable. How could she rule at his side when she didn't age past the mortal age of eighteen? People would have asked questions she couldn't have answered.

Then, the instructions came and she felt bile raising up her throat.

She would have to kill him and escape, ready for the next mission.

Guglielmo had still his arms wrapped around her waist, his fingers running up and down her tight corset.

-What did the doctor say, my love? - he asked with a concerned smile. - Did he think we could officialise the wedding? -

Of course that was what the boy was thinking. The girl had postponed her first wedding night ever since knowing what she had to do, lying about some random girlish health issue that prevented her from laying with her husband. She thought she had to get creative about what she had, but mortal men were surprisingly naive when it came to periods.

The lie had been her first and only act of defiance towards the mist people. They hadn't explicitly told her to sleep with her husband, and she did not want to take a corpse-to-be as a lover.

The girl caressed his chin with her gloved hand and blew him a kiss.

-All in place, sweetheart- she said. She put her hand down for fear of them shaking. There was no reason to be afraid, she was doing the right thing. -Why wait until tonight? -

He kissed the tip of her nose and took her by the hand. Little servant children were running around the castle, carrying trays of food and clothes to the royal rooms. They smiled widely as the prince waved at them.

She did not love him, but the kindness in his gestures made her heart drop. How could he become a monster? Could the mist people be wrong?

Guglielmo gave her a loving look and practically carried her to their room.

The prince suite was as extravagant as it sounded. Red curtains covered the large bed, wrapping it as a present. The immense windows let the sunset light filtering through, lighting up the environment with softness. The girl did not have a clear memory of what her life had been before being sent into the mortal world, but she could swear she never had a room. She slept under the stars, like the other immortals, waiting for their time to be sent for her mission. She never wore clothes or brushed her hair. Like animals, they were perfect as they were born. Her pale skin had lost some of its colour ever since she stopped being wild, giving it a translucent look she didn't know what to think about.

No, this was wrong. Mortals were not right.

The prince opened the window and breathed in the fresh air. Florence was warm in the summer, but the palace was always under the wind. His blond hair was twisted by the current, his boyish grin going through her like a knife. He wanted her, that was no secret. He'd wanted her since he saw her in the piazza, but he waited until it was proper to ask so. He never laid a hand on her or on any of the servants. For someone so powerful, he never exerted his power in a cruel way.

His blue eyes were sincere.

His smile true.

But he was mortal.

But this was not right.

"A king made by a queen of murder, will spill more blood than the tears of his subjects." She repeated to herself.

But what if the subjects didn't cry? What if they were happy? Could no blood be spilled?

She whispered herself the words that the mist people had told her in the forest a week before and she took the hand he was giving her. Her nails digged into his palm.

He didn't look shocked, but winked at her. Maybe he thought this was just another of her games, the ones they liked to play flirtatiously with each other. His smile started to fade as any feeling was disappearing from his limbs, forcing him to lay on the ground.

-Giulia? Love? - he muttered confused. The poison in her veins was reaching his hearth faster than she expected.

She knew her eyes had to be unyielding. They taught her so. She was a path-changer. She would change history.

In the blink of an eye, she saw her dress covered in blood, her hands dirty in a way they could never be washed. She saw luminous threads wrapping and unwrapping around her person. Startled, she left Guglielmo's hand before the poison did what it was meant to.

-I can't do this- she whispered shaking. -This is not right.-

She took a step back. Her gown felt so heavy, suffocating. Quickly she untied the laces holding her corset together and left the soft dress fall to her feet. Her pale curves were golden under the sunset light. She was only wearing her undergarments, but she had no modesty to be concerned with.

Guglielmo stared at her with wide eyes, coughing and spitting blood on the ground. He was trembling, scared of his bride surely. She knelt next to him and blew softly in in his mouth. As the antidote entered his body, the prince's muscled relaxed and he passed out on cold floor.

The girl was shaking all over. She was no more Giulia, princess of Florence. She looked at the window, too high up in the castel for any mortal to climb. The girl put her head outside and felt the breeze on the face. She grabbed the window handle and pulled herself high. The front of the palace was covered in brunches. She gracefully held to one after the other to climb down. Someone was shouting. The girl raised her head just to realise it was Guglielmo giving orders to his guards. She felt an arrow flying dangerously close to her legs and climbed faster. Five meters from the ground, she jumped.

A sharp pain in her ankle made her realise how stupid that move had been. She was immortal, not indestructible. Yet, she should have not felt this much pain.

What was the warm feeling raising in her chest? Immortals didn't feel.

She whimpered towards the forest above the hills. The shouts of the soldiers grew louder and louder. She could have ended their lives with a scratch, she had that power. She wasn't in danger, and yet she felt like she was running away as if her immortal life depended on it. What was wrong with her?

"A path-changer who's path has been changed" a voice resonated in her head. A shiver went down her spine as the mist people spoke to her mind. "All for a moral code that does not apply to the writers of history"

"Your intereference will not be left unpunished" warned another. The girl kept looking around to find her interlocutor.

The mist people never hid from immortals, their essence wasn't too bright as it was for mortal eyes, and yet she could not find them. "You do not belong anymore. Traitor by choise to your own, enemy by nature to the others. Your path has been rewritten."

A blinding pain in her harm made her scream until her throat hurt. She screamed for the injustice of their command, tried to explain that Guglielmo did not deserve to die. She screamed for her own pain. Tears rolling down her cheeks. She had never cried before, as path-changers don't feel emotions in the way the mortals do.

But here she was, feeling the deepest despair she had ever felt in her life.

She was no longer a path-changer. An immortal soul with a purpose.

She failed them.

Worse, she questioned them.

The mist people were not forgiving.

So she would pay. 

...

Author note: Hallo, hope you are liking my novel so far! 

This is the end of Chapter One, Let me know what you think!!

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