He was still in shock from what he'd done, barely paying attention to Ella mourning the death of the assassin. Why was she mourning...? Wasn't the assassin someone who should be cheered for being dead? She'd tried to convince her to kill him... He didn't feel any remorse for what he'd done... He hadn't wanted to kill personally, but he'd wanted the assassin dead nonetheless. She'd tried to have him killed, afterall.

Her yelling brought him out of his trance, and he looked up. His arms felt lighter, and Marken realized he'd dropped the bloody sword to the ground, disconnected from the world. "She charged me Ella... What was I supposed to do...?" His voice was faint, as he saw the blood still on his hands. He wasn't a killer, even if he would sentence someone to die. That wasn't in his blood...

Regina tried to calm down Ella, but Marken didn't care about that. He didn't wait for an escort, for someone to dismiss him... He just walked away, back towards the castle. The world was a blur right now, he just wanted something to wash that away. When had Regina even shown up? He soaked his hands in near boiling water, trying to feel some sensation, before it finally came to him, the pain tearing a gasp from him. He'd read and heard of those who mutilated themselves... No, he wouldn't do that. Royalty was better than that. He'd do what came natural. He poured himself a glass of rum, and started drinking.