She moved with grace. Her body weaved through the crowd and her slick fingers hooked around the jewellery of strangers. She went unnoticed, and she hoped she always would, for what she was about to do was both unforgivable and unforgettable. 

Her chic, navy blue gown succoured her with camouflage as she became one of them. The mask she wore concealed the top half of her face, trimmed just above the arch of her furrowed brows. She held her head high and kept her hazel eyes partially narrowed as she scanned her surroundings. Of course, there were enough people to cause an uproar once she'd finish with her task, but that didn't bother her in the slightest. In fact, she only worried that the countless pairs of eyes that trailed after her had seen the many scars she'd attempted to hide under her blonde locks. The style wasn't ideal—she'd prefer to kill without her hair smacking her face every now and then, but the blemishes were far too large to disguise with makeup. 

To showcase her scars was a dead giveaway. A child would know they were not simple cuts from kitchen knives. If revealed, she'd be questioned immediately. Slashes from silver swords and wounds from iron arrows were symbols of treason, and it wasn't a secret that she was the only assassin in the country to have so many. But she was also the only killer and thief smart enough to keep her identity a secret. No one knew her name—her real name—and no one knew how she looked under every disguise she had ever worn. 

Tonight, she was Josephine Darwin, a Lady of the royal court she had executed the night before. Impersonating the dead woman was not a challenge. Her wig was the same shade of blonde Josephine's, and she found the perfect hue for her eye contacts. Her complexion was of little concern, as she shared Josephine's rosy tinged skin tone. She was grateful to Josephine for being a quiet person. That meant she wouldn't have to speak to many people.

"Miss Darwin!" A voice from behind her stopped her in her tracks. "Miss Darwin, is that you?"

She released a small inaudible groan before plastering a polite smile on her face. She turned, relaxing her tense muscles at the sight of the old General. Thank goodness it was someone she had done her research on. There were at least seven thousand people attending the Crown Prince's coronation, and she did not have enough time nor patience to sit and collect facts about every individual guest.

"Hello, General," she replied, wrapping her fingers tighter around the stick handle of the mask. 

The General scratched his greying beard. "Miss Darwin, how many times must I tell you to call me Ahren?"

"Forgive me, General," she smiled again. "but it is simply not proper of me."

"If that is what you desire," He sighed, readjusting his mask. "May I escort you somewhere? The ballroom, perhaps, if you are looking for a dance? The coronation is not for another forty minutes."

The assassin shook her head. "Actually, I am looking for a buffet table. Chocolate truffles seem much more appealing than a bland waltz."

The General laughed. His eyes dropped to her chest, and she wanted nothing more than to reveal the blade that was hidden inside the stick handle of her mask. He wouldn't be laughing then, would he? 

"Of course, my lady. Come with me," He said, extending his elbow. 

The assassin looped her arm with his and let him lead her into the grand dining hall. Apparently, the Prince was a stress eater. She knew that if she were to find him anywhere in the palace right before his coronation, it would be where the food was. 

"Please, help yourself," The General smiled, gesturing to the many tables that were cluttered with foods of all kind. "My apologies, Miss Darwin, but I must leave you now."

It's about damn time, she thought.

"Oh, don't worry about me, General," Her eyes flickered across the hall. It must have been by luck—she spotted the Crown Prince with just a single sweep of her eyes. She turned her attention back to the man in front of her for a brief second and said, "I'll be just fine."

As soon as he left, she opened her palm to reveal a gold ring. She had slipped it off the General's finger ever so smoothly while he walked her to the hall, and he hadn't suspected a thing. She found thievery quite thrilling, as it was far more risky to get caught stealing than it was in the midst of an assassination. She grinned proudly and opened her purse, peeking inside at the other jewels she had collected today before she tossed the ring in as well. 

The Prince hadn't moved from the group of people he was chatting with, so the impostor began scavenging for the desired chocolate truffles. She hadn't been joking with the General. It wasn't every day she was exposed to the wonders of luxury desserts. Fortunately for her, Josephine Darwin was known to have a large sweet tooth. She only received the occasional judgmental look from other Ladies of the royal court, but nothing other than that. 

As she pushed through the clusters of hungry affluent people, she caught sight of the Prince's retreating head. Her eyes followed him to an exit, and soon she could no longer see the top of his jewel-encrusted crown. Her heart ached at the thought of abandoning her mouthwatering sweets, but she had no other choice. Her task came first. She walked as fast as any other woman could in heels. She had mastered many things in her lifetime, but the art of running in pumps with five inched heels was yet to be conquered.

The exit was only a few feet away now, but she wouldn't be able to make a run for it without raising suspicions. A waiter passed by, distracting the surrounding people with his tray of champagne. She took the opportunity and darted towards the doors.

Soon, she stepped into the vestibule and smirked as she turned at a corner. She knew these hallways very, very well. The Crown Prince was retreating to his chambers. She'd have cackled if she could, but the echoes of laughter that rang throughout the palace were already doing that for her. It couldn't get any easier than this, could it? It was perfect. She'd wait until he was completely alone, and then she would execute him without having to make a mess.

Her movements were sleek. The woman had her back pressed up against the wall beside the doors to the Prince's chambers. She was hidden, lurking in the shadows casted by the stone display stand and the vase that sat on the surface of it as she waited for the escort to leave. 

Just as she began to grow impatient, the guard who had been the Prince's escort shut the doors behind him and disappeared down the hallway. 

She slipped into the chamber and was greeted with lit candles. They were the only source of light in the dark room. Was the Prince asleep? She didn't know where the bed was, and the candlelight only helped so much. The teakwood aroma that filled the chamber only added to the warmth as she inhaled the comforting scent. For a moment, she was hypnotized by the beauty of the dancing flames, and that was when she realized her mistake.

"Miss Darwin, what a pleasant surprise," 

She spun around at the sound of the voice and pulled the cinquedea out from the stick that was attached to her mask, which was now on the floor. She held the razor-sharp blade at the Prince's throat, silently threatening to slice the skin as she pressed harder. She was close enough to him to see the thin line of sweat above his upper lip. 

"You know, Miss Darwin," he said, completely unfazed. "as a Lady of the court, it is incredibly inappropriate of you to carry around such a lethal weapon."

She lowered the dagger and smiled sheepishly. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I believe I've had a little too much to drink."

"You don't seem very tipsy," He tilted his head to the side.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, but that little action alone was enough to send her to the dungeons.

"Wait a minute," The Prince said, eyeing her hair. "you're not Miss Darwin."

"Pardon?" She sputtered, gaping. "Of course I am!"

"Then why is your hair brown?" He asked. "I don't recall Josephine ever wearing a blonde wig."

She said nothing.

"You didn't think I'd let you kill me just as you killed my mother, all those years ago?" He smirked.

His dark, familiar eyes bored into her wide ones. His next words caused her dagger to collide with the floor.

"Welcome back, Annalise."