Virgil's only information was that he needed to kill the Prince of the Kingdom of Sunrise. It was the only information he needed. He could handle the rest; he could get his name, he could get his own suit for the ball he was attending, he could polish his daggers, and he could for certain, without a doubt, stay focused on getting the prince alone so he could make his move.

The life of an assassin was like this. He couldn't afford to have empathy or sympathy for his targets, not if he wanted to get paid. He'd long since lost all feelings. Virgil didn't consider himself human anymore, just a lifeless being designed to kill.

His breathing was even as he walked up the steps to the ball being held in the Sunrise Palace. It shimmered under the ironically setting sun as the night drew closer. To him, the palace's pretty appearance was pointless, but it was clear he was in the minority that felt that way. Other guests were gawking and pointing at the shiny, tinted glass that formed the windows and the polished gold accents all over the castle entrance. It was designed to awe and impress; Virgil was neither.

His appearance could be impressive, he supposed, but he really didn't have a care of what he looked like; the black suit and purple accents were drawing eyes onto him though.

White suit, red sash, he said in his mind. He repeated it as he and the other guests were herded toward the ballroom. He didn't know what the prince looked like aside from: white suit, red sash.

There was excitement buzzing in the air, excitement that Virgil didn't share. He felt nothing. He never did.

The first hour of the evening was spent surveying the environment, memorizing the layout of the ballroom, the closet exits, the easiest places to stand and not be noticed. His dagger sat in the inside pocket of his suit, a familiar weight to remind him what he was here to do. He hadn't found the prince, so he assumed he wasn't arriving until later. He stood on the edge of the dance floor, simply taking slow sips of his beverage. It tasted like champagne though it didn't concern him.

Virgil's sharp eyes moved around the room before darting toward opening doors at the top of the curved staircase at the back of the ballroom. He assumed it led into another part of the palace, and he had to be correct, as a man now stood at the top of the staircase with a bright smile. His hair shimmered under the light of the chandeliers and he could see even from his distance that his eyes sparkled.

He hadn't even fully inspected this new comer, but to his shock, he felt something. His face felt warm and his chest felt like it was expanding. He quickly looked away as he tried to get a grip on himself.

What the hell? he thought, reaching up to run his fingers nervously through his hair. Stay focused.

Virgil's eyes traveled back up to the new comer, who was now making his way down the steps toward someone who was addressing him. It was as he was walking that he realized. White suit, red sash.

His target. The prince.

A different emotion seemed to wash over him. He felt uncomfortable, like he was going to be sick. The assassin swallowed and shoved down the feelings as he took a larger sip of the champagne. Now he seemed to be able to taste the alcohol.

The prince was shaking hands and talking with people as he joined the ball. His smile was dazzling and the way he moved captivated him for some unknown reason other than the fact that there was a target on his head. Virgil was going to have find a way to get him alone.

"It's lovely to see you as well," he heard him say as he moved a little closer to him.

A jolt went through his body. His voice. His voice made him freeze in place as he stood by a pillar with his champagne. It sent chills through him. It made think of what it would be like to be held in his arms and to hear him murmur sweet nothings into his ear. This thought was ridiculous and came from nowhere.

Get a grip! he yelled in his mind, clenching his fist as he hit down on his lip. He hadn't felt like this since he was in his teens. He hadn't felt anything since his teen years. Okay, focus. Entice him. Get him alone.

Virgil swallowed the rest of his champagne and placed the empty glass on a servers tray with a polite nod of thanks. Taking a deep breath, he moved toward the buffet table with grace and confidence in an attempt to attract the attention of the prince. He was successful, glancing over his shoulder to see the man looking his way. He looked as though he was trying to recover what he was saying to whoever he was talking to. The assassin smirked to himself as he picked up a small chocolate from one of the plates, moving gracefully stand the in direct eye line of him as he bit into it somewhat seductively.

He knew he wouldn't have to wait very long, that the prince would approach him as soon as he could tear himself away from the 'old friends' and 'exclusive guests' he was required to greet.

Five minutes went by where the assassin was standing alone with another glass of champagne before someone approached him. "Excuse me, sir," that voice said, making Virgil look up. The prince looked a little breathless, but was handling himself well considering. His smile was still dazzling and his eyes were still sparkling. He bowed a little to him. "Prince Roman of Sunrise, I don't believe we've met."

"We haven't," Virgil confirmed, making sure his voice was as smooth as he could possibly make it.

Roman straightened back up, smiling at him somewhat dreamily. "What might your name be, sir?" he asked politely. "If you don't mind me asking that is."

"I don't mind at all your Highness," the assassin said before continuing with honesty that surprised him. "The name's Virgil."

The prince's breathing hitched as he thought to himself. Why did I tell him my real name? One of the biggest rules of being an assassin is to never use your real name, even when conversing with your employer, he scolded himself. You have to kill him. Don't get distracted.

He shook out his head, looking back toward Roman who was looking around. "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk with me?" the prince asked, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "It would be easier to talk with each other if we're on our own. It's kind of loud in here."

"I'd love to accompany you," he replied, smiling sweetly at him.

As they started to make their way through the halls and out into the gardens, the weight of the dagger in his suit made his heart rate accelerate. He had a job. That job would get him paid so that he could buy food and clothes for himself. It was his job that provided his livelihood. He had to do it. This was his opportunity to strike-

"I hope I don't come across as too forward, but I think you're very handsome," the prince said, breaking him from his thoughts.

Virgil felt himself blush; he never blushed. He smiled a little, looking down as his mind ran with the fact that this beautiful prince thought he was handsome. Did he like his eyes? Perhaps it was his hair? Maybe it was his lips... he hoped it was his lips.

"Thank you," he murmured softly, looking over at him as they walked side-by-side through the gardens. "You're pretty good looking yourself."

Roman beamed at the compliment as they continued to walk. The air felt charged with chemistry as the two talked to one another. The sun had sunk below the horizon line, and the moon was rising as the sky darkened. Stars began to poke through the indigo of the sky, making the assassin's eyes widen a little as he looked up at them. He hadn't truly looked at the stars in years. He'd forgotten how beautiful they could be. The prince smiled at his reaction and decided to test the waters.

He reached out and took his hand that was hanging limply by his side. Virgil's eyes widened even more as he froze. The warm of Roman's hand holding his own was unfamiliar, but extremely nice. The assassin hadn't had physical contact like that in years, making him smile and sigh as their fingers laced together.

"I can't quite explain what it is about you," the prince murmured softly as he turned to him, looking down at their hands. "I just feel... connected to you. I've felt this pull since the moment I laid eyes on you."

The moon was shining down on them as sat down in the garden, fingers still intertwined between them. Roman leaned forward, using his other hand to cup his cheek. The assassin thought briefly that this would be a perfect moment to catch him by surprise, but squeezed his eyes shut and pulled away, feeling a panic rising up in his chest. "I can't go through with it- I can't, I can't do it."

"Virgil?" he said questioningly as the other man's leg began to bounce up and down and he muttered to himself. Confusion laced every feature of his face when he looked up at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I..." he tried, feeling his throat closing up. "I was sent here to kill you. I'm... I'm not a good person, Roman, I'm not, I was sent here to kill you because I'm an assassin and someone wants you dead, so their going to pay me to kill you, but I j-just can't. I can't go through with it. You... You make me feel things."

The prince looked confused and concerned, but at his last sentence, he looked intrigued. "I haven't been able to feel anything since I started in this business," he explained, squeezing his hand. "But you make me feel flustered, warm, wanted, and just... I feel the same way. I understand what you mean by no knowing exactly why I feel so drawn to you, but I just, I feel like I belong to you."

"Belong to me?" Roman repeated, looking intrigued. "Would you want to? Belong to me?"

"I don't know how I could," the assassin said honestly. "It's in my contract to kill you, or they'll be looking for me to pay them what they were going to pay me, and I don't have that money. Not to mention they'll come after me once they find out you're still alive... I'm not a good person, Roman, I've killed, I've hurt people, I'm just... You're so good, you deserve better than me."

He stood up to try and leave, but the prince grabbed his wrist and spun him around, pressing his lips against his firmly, eliciting a gasp. Virgil's entire body felt like it was on fire as their mouths moved against each other. They were panting when Roman pulled away.

"I'll take care of the payment for your employer if you promise me you'll stay here and explore this with me," he said, voice determined as he looked into his eyes. "I've never felt anything like this for anyone before, and I don't want to let you walk away from me. Not when I know how these lips feel."

He traced his bottom lip with his thumb as a smile broke across the assassin's face. "You're really convincing," he said breathlessly. "I promise, I want to figure out what this is too."

"Good," Roman said, smiling a little. He then pulled away, still holding his hand as he bowed toward him. When he straightened back up, he took a step back toward the palace. "Now come on, it would be a waste if we didn't share a dance before the night was over."