Over the next few days, Kiana strategically found ways to meet up with Fiona. It wasn't hard since the princess insisted on checking on her until her wound was completely healed. Fiona enjoyed talking with Kiana, no doubt reveling in an activity not strictly ordered by her mother.

As for Kiana, well, she was the perfect friend. A listening ear when needed, a source of fun and interest when Fiona felt low, the stress of the princess's position heavy on her young shoulders. It was only a few weeks before Kiana was openly walking about with the princess who didn't find it odd that Kiana's companionship went without objection from her many handlers.

Her father on the other hand...

The queen didn't tell her husband about Kiana, no doubt realizing he'd probably be unable to live with his daughter being tricked by false friendship. However, the king also knew his wife. When Fiona introduced her new friend, Kiana saw the doubt and fear flicker across the king's marred face before he bravely smiled, not wanting to ruin any happiness Fiona had managed to find.

Kiana wasn’t worried about the king, she could out maneuver a blind old man. She made sure he heard it when she made Fiona laugh and encouraged Fiona to share their recent exploits with her father, levying the man's guilt to ensure it outweighed his suspicions. He wouldn't risk shattering Fiona's happiness and Kiana knew it. It was so easy, and so expected.

Her own guilt was not.

Fiona was intoxicating. Her honest nature and miserable circumstances made it hard to continue to lie to her. Kiana had been lying her whole life, but usually it was to people for whom the lies meant no harm. With Fiona it was different. The lies were to keep her in prison, in a vicious and deadly prison. Although the manipulations were as easy and natural as any others Kiana had done, they ate at her.

When she held Fiona's shoulders as the princess cried over the hundreds of people starving for her mother's war, Kiana wanted to believe the comfort she gave was sincere. That the words she spoke were from her heart and not her training. It was terrible to watch as the scope of the queen's crimes were laid out to Fiona slowly as she helped her father manage the day to days of the empire. Paper and numbers translating to atrocities and death. Slave camps, prison farms, soldiers used as fodder, it all was dropped unceremoniously onto Fiona.

It wasn't right. It wasn't fair, the words Kiana whispered to her friend, fell into her own ears. She'd been a part of this. She'd thought it was right--that her work for the queen made her a hero but all it took was the tears in those blue eyes for Kiana's world to be ripped apart as thoroughly as her princess's.

Thus it was torture to be her friend. To genuinely want to give comfort, to ease the pain while every kind action was just another step in their abuser's plan.

Kiana couldn't stop it. Like a boulder rolling down a hillside, she couldn't stop what she was and the inevitable crash at the bottom. Each day when Fiona brightened when they met in the hall, Kiana's heart bled. Each time the king held his daughter protectively in his arms, Kiana knew it was her he was trying to protect Fiona from.

Don't you see I don't want this? She wanted to say to him, to try to explain.

She considered running away, but the idea of leaving Fiona alone glued her to the floor. When she lay in the dark at night, she'd realize she was as trapped as the king. She'd curse the princess until the sun rose and she went to meet the object of her frustration, her words candied and ready. Her heart would alight at Fiona's smile, and the torture would start all over agian.