She followed him to the window and saw a smoldering tree, the steam rising from the scorched bark as the light raindrops fell upon them, and a great cloud of smoke billowed from the top branches. Turning her eyes to the right, she did indeed see a brief glimpse of Jafeth leading the White Elf Queen back into the castle, and Sabeck growled at the sight of the man, it being her first time seeing him in months. The last time he had summoned her to his presence it had been for entertainment at a feast he had held in honor of his generals. She had been imprisoned in a cage that was too small for a creature like her; the Sakrait had needed to hunch over almost in a ball, unable to move and avoid the jagged rods as the men had prodded her through the iron bars and stabbed at her, invoking quite a scene from the wild feline. Her snarls and fiery shouts of what she would do to them, to all of them, if only they would let her free only spurred them onward, increasing their humiliating torture of her. Jafeth had roared with laughter throughout the entire affair, even coming up to her face to taunt her himself, before sending her back down to her cell once she had worn out her vocal cords from screaming at them.
So she watched from the window, scowling as the vile man led what looked to be an extraordinarily exotic Queen back into the catacombs of the dark fortress before looking back towards Jariath, who was now leering over her, challenging her to help him sneak through the stone sanctuary and find the room where the negotiations were to take place. Sabeck scoffed at him, practically rolling her amber eyes at his attempt to dare her into doing something for him; as if she needed a smart reason to do something against the Pvethian King.
“As if I would shrink back at any opportunity to bring Jafeth down, elf.” She chuckled wickedly into his face before spinning away and dropping back low to the floor, prowling like an oiled panther towards the door, her shoulder blades shifting under the caramel skin of her strong back as she moved smoothly before opening the door and peering out into the deserted hallway. There were no guards, being no one to watch over anyway since everyone was at the Banquet Feast still being held downstairs…only a few torches lining the walls to light the way. Sabeck turned towards Jariath and motioned him to come over and stand behind her with a quick jerk of her head. “They will undoubtedly be in the War Room; I have been there many a time, along with the Banquet Hall, as amusement for the men of this country. I know where it is in this castle but I don’t really know how to get there since I was always carried through the front door and down the main hallways.” She turned back to look up at him from her crouched position, smiling up at him mischievously. “Are you ready to possibly die, elf? Because that is what’s going to happen if we get caught. I am an escaped prisoner; you are on Jafeth’s bad list, a list that grows shorter each day as the people on it disappear in death. Why is knowing what is being said so important?”
She could hear from his earlier tone that he was dead serious about needing to go and find his Queen so as to eavesdrop into the conversations. Sabeck wasn’t scared of getting caught, but she was confused as to the sudden backbone these elves got in times of distress. The traditional stories of Frost Elves portrayed them as peaceful artists, quiet and mild spirited. But Jariath’s eyes were burning with passion, anger, and violence: something Sabeck recognized well. But as the woman was impulsive, she was also smart. She too wanted to know what was going to be said, but she could also wait for the Queen to return so they could both speak with her. Jariath’s zeal was contagious, but she had to know why he was doing it.