Prologue

The guard captain stood at attention beside the assembly hall in the audience chamber, listening to the murmur of discussion since morning. The magical orbs of light illuminated the large stone room, reflecting off his armor as they did on each of the other guards stationed around the room. The afternoon sun shone through the ornate windows, casting numerous rose patterns across the smooth stone floor.

A bead of sweat dripped down his temple. He wiped it and shook his head, refocusing. He studied the room, the guards serving under him, the numerous standards of his queendom hanging from the walls, anything to keep his mind from wandering. He needed to stay calm and ready to act if the time came for it.

He heard the voices approaching the door behind him. Quickly, he opened the door to the audience chamber and stood aside, making way for Tatiana and her guest. She gave a quick glance at her captain and gave a nod before passing through the doorway, her royal garments billowing as she stepped. "I cannot express my gratitude for you hearing my request, Stefan," she said, turning to her guest. "Truthfully, I'm rather surprised you travelled all the way here."

"After such an enticing plan, how could I not?" Stefan said with a gentle smile. "If this goes as planned, we'll all stand to gain considerably, not just my own domain."

"Mmm... Yes. I welcome it after such a long period of conflict. Now, if only we can get the rest to agree to it as well."

"I worry about Lord Kael. A stubborn one, most certainly, and never one to relinquish anything. The rest I think can be convinced."

Tatiana bit her lip. "I just hope we can convince them to listen to reason."

Stefan stepped closer and looked down to meet her eyes. "Have faith. If not in yourself, then in Rae. Or Teva, right? I always forget who your people worship," he paused for a moment. "The messengers are ready to ride out, now it's just a matter of them heeding the call."

She sighed. "I am still apprehensive, but you're right. There's not much more we can do now. Teva, please help them see reason," she prayed, palms pressed together.

Stefan smiled again at her before he turned to his personal guards against the near wall and gave a nod. "It is late, and I must depart. Send word if the situation changes. If there's anything I've learned about situations like this, haste is of utmost importance." One of the guards draped his silvered cloak over Stefan's shoulders. He took a moment to adjust and secure it closed before continuing, "And most of all, be wary of your own retainers. A silvery tongue can speak words of poison."

Her gaze shifted over to her guard captain, who stared back firmly. "Of course. Safe travels to you and your escort, Lord Talyra."

He accepted her well-wishes with a slight bow and exited the audience chamber, his guards in step on either side of him.

Tatiana looked around the room, counting the guards standing watch. "Leave us," she said. With a bow, they all left except for her captain. She made her way up a few stone steps to the throne at the end of the hall and flopped into it, exhausted. She groaned as she rubbed her eyes, caring not for the effect it would have on the cosmetics plastering her face, tired from several days of discussions and negotiations.

"Your Majesty, are you unwell?"

"No, just tired," she answered without looking up at the captain of her personal guard. "And..."

"Nervous?"

"Ugh, you always see through me, Gil."

"Tiana, how long have I served you?"

"Don't tell me, you'll make me feel old."

"You're too young to feel old," Gilbert laughed, walking to stand before the throne. "Your Majesty, worry not, I will protect you with my life."

"Thank you, Gil, but that won't suffice for swaying public opinion. The fact remains... everyone supported me because they wished to see me crowned empress. This..." She paused a moment. "It feels like a betrayal. Like I've failed my people. All those who put their faith in me."

Gilbert walked up the steps to the throne. He kneeled before the queen and grasped her delicate, gloved hand. "Tatiana Remonnet, you have done no such evil deed. I know how many sleepless nights you've had, thinking of how best to protect your people. How much you grieved for the countless dead this war has created. No, you have not betrayed your people. You will save them."

"Gil..." She pursed her lips, struggling to maintain her composure. After a moment, she nodded in agreement. "Thank you... Gil. Your support, your loyalty is... It's more than I could ever ask for."

"Anything for you, Tiana," he said with a smile. "I'll return to my post. Unless, of course, you'd rather I be here to listen to your worries more?"

Tatiana shook her head, the gentle curls in her golden hair swaying. "I think I'm fine now. Please, keep watch over the door for me."

Gilbert bowed. "At once, Your Majesty," he said before turning and leaving, his boots clinking against the stone floor as he went.

She watched him, the red and gold light of the tinted windows above reflecting roses on his armor as he left. She smiled, thinking of the many years she'd seen that during his time as captain, since she was a child standing beside her mother on the throne. She wistfully looked up at the windows that surrounded her, the sun just past the turret of the inner walls of the castle.

"Teva, please... See this succeed," she whispered.

* * *

The hooded figure made his way down the back alley, splashing through puddles in the uneven South Bank pavement. He arrived at his destination and looked around for a moment, checking to see if he was followed; he couldn't make out any figures in the pouring rain. Drawing his cloak closer around him, he banged on the door in the pattern previously agreed upon. He breathed into his chilled hands, rubbing them futilely in an attempt to warm them. The pungent stench of dead fish was palpable, he could almost taste it. He crinkled his nose. Hurry up, you lout, he thought.

Not a moment later, the door was opened by a large, barrel-chested, brawny man. He hunched down and peered at his guest, his dull, dead eyes carefully studied him. He gave a guttural grunt and gestured the hooded man inside.

The meeting room this time seemed to be an old tavern. Broken chairs and tables littered the room. The fireplace was dark, a few charred pieces of wood lay cold within it. Only a few candles on the walls illuminated the dark room, just enough to avoid tripping over the remains of the former alehouse.

"Were you followed?" asked the man seated in the corner of the dark room. His face was made even more shadowy by the dark hood he always wore, just his pale cheeks and thin lips were visible. His long, slender finger tapped the table in front of him. The dull thumping of the tap-tap-tapping was oddly chilling.

The new arrival threw the hood of his cloak back, revealing his golden hair in the dim candlelight. "No. I made certain."

"Hmph. Your certainty means nothing." He stopped tapping and gestured to the doorman. The doorman lumbered upstairs without a word, the boards creaking with each step. "Are you certain you aren't being followed?"

"I-I made c-certain," stammered the blond man.

"This time, perhaps, but times past?"

"Y-yes." He heard some ruckus upstairs before the creaking of the steps began again.

"Care to explain this then?"

He could barely see the shadowy figure turn toward the stairs. Following his gaze, his expression morphed into concern.

The doorman came down with a very large sack slung over his shoulder. The sack wriggled and squirmed, but the doorman's colossal arms held it firmly. As he slammed it down on the table, the sack let out a yelp.

"Open it."

The doorman ripped open the sack to reveal a young man, bound and gagged. He was dirty, remnants of dry blood and dirt littered his face. The ropes around his wrists and ankles were tight enough to leave raw, bloody marks from the endless chafing. Or rather, helpless struggling.

Upon seeing the blond-haired man, he started to make muffled noises and reached out for him.

"Well?" asked the shadowy figure. "Care to explain who this is?"

"H-he's..." He swallowed. "He's... a guardsman. One I'm... acquainted with."

"How certain are you now?" he mocked, his words slithering from between his lips.

The blond man said nothing, just staring into the frightened eyes of the bound guardsman.

"Go ahead," the man said to the doorman. The doorman silently trudged to the end of the table by the guardsman's head. He placed one heavy hand on the guardsman's chest and grasped under his chin with the other. The guardsman began his muffled screaming as the doorman pressed his head down past the edge of the table and toward the floor while holding his chest still.

The blond man grimaced as he watched and listened. The doorman's muscular arm held the comparatively small jaw firmly, pushing further and further with ease. The screams quickly turned to repulsive, sickening cracking and popping. After a moment, the doorman released the young man and returned to his spot against the wall by the door, leaving the guardsman's head swinging limply.

"I expect you'll be more 'certain' from now on." Though his eyes were obscured, the blond man could feel the hooded figure's stare boring into him.

He nodded nervously, still fixated on the lifeless guardsman in front of him. He breathed deeply to compose himself and pulled his gaze away from the dead man on the table. "Y-you're sure t-that it's not yet time to act?"

"I am. Do not doubt my informants. I have trusted agents in the castle."

"But-"

"There will be a better time than now. If we act now, it will throw my master's carefully crafted plan into chaos."

"... Your master's plan... When will I meet this 'master'?"

"Why?" the shadowy figure asked sharply.

The doorman flinched, as if to lunge for the blond man before thinking better of it.

"I-if I am helping in his plan to save the queendom, should I not meet-"

"When the deed is done. That is when you shall meet him and not a moment sooner." He tapped his finger on the table in front of him once again. "We both want what's best for the queendom. My master is afraid of Her Majesty's actions just as you are. Even more so. Worry not." He stopped his tapping and pointed toward his guest. "Now, have you done your part? Have you gathered the coin?"

The blond man nodded. "Yes. Or, just about. I will have the necessary funds soon."

"Good," said the shadowy figure. "We enter the final stage of our plan then. A bright future awaits us all." He stood up and extended his thin hand. "For the queendom."