Delicate as a flower, innocence of a newborn child, beauty that could put angels to shame and the kindest of all.
That's who Veneesa Des Flazear is, or thats who I, Bella Ser Mosique, am supposed to be.
The sole purpose of existence is to seduce the crown prince, become the future mistress, destroy the order of this nation and then finally pave way for my people to invade this kingdom.
Ever since I was a little girl, I have been trained for this mission.
Comabt training, acting, geographical knowledge, expertise in herbology, weapon knowledge, social psychology and manipulation, financial knowledge and what not. I was raised to tackel anything thrown at me.
This mission is more important to me than anything, and nothing shall ever come between me and my goal. All the efforts that I have done will become fruitful.
If I survive throughout the mission then I will become the hero of my kingdom. I most probably will die. And I have mentally prepared myself for that as well.
I was raised to become emotionless, so that I do not bond with anyone during the mission. The only emotion I ever felt was passion. Passion to see this kingdom to burn in front my very eyes.
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" This is NOT how it was supposed to happen. " She said in a trembling voice. Tears threatening to fall.
" Then how was it supposed to be. " He chuckled as he caressed her head.
" I was supposed to seduce you. I was supposed to use you. Thats what the plan had always been. And once everything was done, I was supposed to kill you. " She said, her head hung low. Daring not to meet the eyes of the prince.
" But, what happened ? Why did you go against the mission ? " He asked, his hand gently lifting her face to look into her diamond eyes.
" I- " She was at a loss for words.
" Hmm? You ? "
" I... I " Tears fell. She could not understand why he looked at her with such a soft gaze when she said she was supposed to kill him.
She sobbed uncontrollably.
" Oh dear, alright I am sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you. " He chuckled as he pulled her into his soft embrace. His hand rubbed her back as she soaked the nape of his fine satin shirt.
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