Phillip shook his head at the next thunderclap, and then departed for his room and rest. He no longer had any wish to continue pondering the past or the future, nor debate on the present.
____________________________________

Lucius chuckled as he stood to his feet.
“You intrigue me, mi’lady. Your voice was haunting in melody, and-- forgive me for being bold, but I also could not help but notice you did not wish to mingle with the others in court.” Lucius noted. His brow then furrowed in curiosity. “I wondered why that is. Becoming notable in court is so necessary that song alone will not do justice to your favour.” Lucius added. Mirabelle tilted her head once more.
"Then I will have to manage that in my own time, for I am rather spent for tonight." Mirabelle replied. "I thank you for your concern, my lord, but I am afraid I am still intent on getting a good night's rest earlier rather than later." Mirabelle went on.

She then took a lady-like curtsey.
"Now, if you will excuse me..." She finished, signalling politely that she had no more to say to the baron. She gave him a moment, before turning away and heading towards her bedroom chamber, slipping through the door and closing it shut and locked tight behind her.

She sighed softly, before putting down her lute gently on the end table beside her bed. She walked over to the water bowl on the pedestal nearby and washed her face clean, and wiped away all the cold droplets with a clean cloth. She took a deep breath, unclasping her shortsword belt before she slipped off her garments. She let her dress fall to the floor before picking it up carefully and hanging it over the dressing screen. She let her hair loose and took her sleeping gown out from her armoire without another thought. But then she saw her Nightingale gear hiding in the back of the cupboard.

Nobody else but her could possibly see it. Perhaps the Elven Court Mage, or someone else who was versed in illusion magic of a Nightingale's calibre, but anyone else would have only seen another outfit. It resided in the armoire, waiting to be donned, as if begging for the darkness within Mirabelle to be unleashed that night.

Mirabelle's lips parted for a moment, as thoughts finally came to mind after a long while. She realized how empty she had been ever since she came to court, how thoughts never plagued her in court or stained her countenance in the midst of her fellow courtiers and in the eyes of the king with his advisor. Mirabelle's eyes trailed away from her Nightingale gear, as she wondered about why she had come, and what she had to do.

She finally sighed once more, putting back the dressing gown and taking out the Nightingale gear. She spent the next few minutes equipping the true outfit of her very-real profession, pulling tight the straps to her gauntlets and boots, and clipping up her cuirass. Her bandolier was slung and her quiver was fastened securely to it. Mirabelle tied back her hair once more and then tied up her mask over her nose and mouth, before sweeping the cloak over her head and shoulders and fastening the clasp at her neck. She finally put her hood up to finish, and then slung her Nightingale bow over her shoulder. The illusion was dispelled from her steel shortsword as she took the belt back and fastened it at her waist once again. Mirabelle then looked in the mirror to see it all.

What stared back at her was a ghost from the past. The last time she saw such an apparition, she held such identity and faith in it. But now that she looked back, Mirabelle found that her identity and faith... Were both misplaced.

She shook her head at the apparition, and turned away in disgust. The Nightingale then blew out all the candles that lit the room, one by one, as she would normally if she was retiring to bed. But there was no sleep for her yet, only feigned retiring for the night, so that then she would find what she came for. Once her room was plunged into darkness, Mirabelle found a way out of her room that would leave her door locked tight, and made her inconspicuous departure via the window.

Evelyn flashed a sincere smile to DuRant.
"How insightful. I would wish for nothing more, Your Majesty." She replied. Damien chuckled and continued to finish his drink, letting the level of wine wane in the confines of his cup. When he had finally reached the bare emptiness of his cup, Evelyn bowed her head from Damien's eyes. "It's been a most lovely evening, hasn't it, Sire?" She remarked. Damien smiled and nodded.
"It has. You may be off. I'll conclude this court gathering soon enough." Damien noted, giving her leave to go.

Once Evelyn was off, Damien held his position gazing over the courtiers in their many, useless scum and pretty pieces in appearance or use alike. Damien had selected his courtiers carefully, and kept nobody from the old court of DuFairre, spare Evelyn. Everyone in his court now was either an important piece in his plan, or an expendable pawn to be used when he saw fit. And pawns were aplenty for him to utilize to the fullest extent of their mere existence. The important pieces were fewer in number, but Damien knew them, and he knew them well. And on the other hand, there were those he kept in court purely for purposes of admiration and entertainment, such as the lovely songstress.

Yes... That songstress bears such a face so beautiful and plays so lovely a melody that even angels would hold jealousy for her favour. Damien wondered. But she is an enigma... An enigma wrapped in mystery and cloaked in darkness. She could be as dangerous and deadly as she is graceful. Damien began to think as his eyes narrowed. I will have to ask Evelyn and Lucius to gather information on the Lady Valois. I must know if she will be an important piece I can... Utilize... He thought. He continued to think and watch the court as they socialized, waiting for time to pass until the hour of sleep came.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"Then I will have to manage that in my own time, for I am rather spent for tonight." Mirabelle replied. "I thank you for your concern, my lord, but I am afraid I am still intent on getting a good night's rest earlier rather than later." Mirabelle went on. Lucius raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but said nothing of it. Mirabelle then took a lady-like curtsey.
"Now, if you will excuse me..." She finished. Lucius nodded and waved with a chuckle.
"As you wish. Another time then, perhaps." Lucius remarked, before she turned away and headed towards her bedroom chamber. Lucius turned away and walked a few steps, and then stopped when heard the door shut. His charming smile then faded as he then made his way to Evelyn's dwelling, darting through any shortcut he could use.

"It has. You may be off. I'll conclude this court gathering soon enough." 

Evelyn stole a step back and curtsied, smiling. "Thank you, Sire. It's been a pleasure, truly."

The moment she closed the great hall doors behind her, Evelyn leaned back, the happiness and generosity in her face replaced by fatigue and annoyance. If she had to look at one more snobby, two-faced noble she'd set him alight where he stood. Rubbing her eyes with a hand, Evelyn made her way through the stone halls. Her fingers pulled up on her hoods, and the Mage swathed her head in darkness once more. The fun and games are just starting, my dear.

Stopping in on the castle's library, Evelyn picked up a few documents and maps of the Marceilles area. The Court Mage's study was up a level, and she always enjoyed the fact she was close to the Throne room. Though it was a long walk from the Hall to her study, she could do it with her eyes closed.

Her study was just as quiet as when she left it. There were tall shelves from floor to ceiling filled with dusty books, a large desk stacked with documents and curious magical objects. Beside that were two large chests and an enchanting table with archaic spell books open on top. A red and gold embroidered rug brought colour to the center of the floor, laying atop the stone. In the corner were two red velvet chairs by a small round table, her favourite place to sit and contemplate. 

On the wall in front of her was another door that lead down a hall to her personal quarters and a room for the displaying of the auspicious artifacts from her adventures. It was usually locked, as it was tonight. 

Evelyn sat at her desk, putting the Marceilles maps to the side as she pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment from a drawer underneath. In elegant cursive, she made a note for the one noble she did a good deed for, Kester. She invited him to join her in the Court Mage's study early next morning, mentioning she needed help with something. Sealing the note with red wax and a stamp, she rung up one of the servants to run the note for her.

That taken care of, Evelyn poured herself on all the information she had on Agravaine and his abode, memorizing all the important bits with ease. She could see it in her mind, the Palace she used to visually store everything she ever learned, all by merely closing her eyes. A brightly lit diamond staircase led down into the Vaults, where rows upon rows of crystal shelves lined glass walls. From there, she simply imagined her new information as a book and placed it in the 'M' section.

Surprised Garthois hadn't arrived yet, Evelyn stuck her head out the study door. It was quiet save a couple servants moving cleaning tools down the corridor. The elf nodded to herself, closed the door, and found a bottle of wine in one of her chests. Popping the cork with a snap of her fingers, Evelyn conjured two ghostly crystal glasses in her other hand. She took a seat in one of the velvet chairs, filling both glasses halfway with red liquid. One she left by the bottle on the table, the other she raised to her lips. 

What a night it's been, my dear. Here's to your life, may it never be a bore. Evelyn thought silently, sipping to her toast. 

A hand reached out and took up the glass that Evelyn had just placed down, charmingly raising the glass towards a familiar face as Lucius stepped out of the shadows he called friends.
"I hope you did not think to drink without me, my dear," Lucius said chidingly. He toasted his glass, before raising the rim to his lips to sup from the fine wine. He smiled when he recognized the bouquet and taste, and lowered his glass to peer at the bottle, the label turned away from his eyes towards Evelyn. "You have excellent taste, mademoiselle. This is Rendair Brothers Vintage 445, no?" Lucius guessed, making slight small talk for the bare moment as he reminisced about good wine. He chuckled softly. "Wine is a lucrative and enjoyable business blessed with patience. I happen to own Shadowcrest Vineyards in Greymont. Perhaps another time, I may treat you and our liege to a bottle." Lucius explained as he leaned on the back of the velvet chair.

He then smiled.
"But I do not intend to bore you and waste time with such irrelevancies. I am here to assist you in planning the heist, and my intelligence is at your disposal, mi'lady." Lucius noted, taking a seat in the velvet chair opposite of Evelyn. He sipped once more from his cup before holding it aloft in his hand, watching Evelyn and listening attentively.

"I hope you did not think to drink without me, my dear." 

Amusement lit up her gray eyes. "You couldn't have more impeccable timing, sir. I must compliment you on your entrance, all my other guests predictably use the door. Curious thing, shadows."

He praised the wine, and she nodded when he guessed correctly. She was aware of the fact he owned his own vineyard, but it surprised her that he truly was an expert in his drinks. Normally nobles didn't bother nowadays with knowing the in's and out's. Mainly their cares were only for how much money they could make, and who they could use to get there.

"But I do not intend to bore you and waste time with such irrelevancies. I am here to assist you in planning the heist, and my intelligence is at your disposal, mi'lady."

Evelyn followed his gaze as he sat opposite of her, a glitter in her eyes. "You're one of the few who could never bore me, my lord. But I would be grateful if you could sate my curiosity. Do we have anyone on the inside in Marceilles? Any friendly faces that could be bribed to keep doors open? Any secret entrances not recorded? Any events for the castle coming up?"

She pursed her lips, thinking up a list in her head. Her fingers absentmindedly stroked the satin edge of her second hood. "There's only a few ways I see of getting in. Either we sneak over the wall and quietly take out anyone in our way, or dress up as servants and blend in, or maybe someone stays the night due to poor weather and opens the door for my thieves when everyone's asleep."

Evelyn sipped at the last drops in her cup, mildly surprised she already polished it off. Of course, she'd never admit it but the heist worried her. That stress somehow trickled its way into her wanting another glass of wine, which she delicately poured for herself. 

"Fancy some more, my lord? It truly is divine." She said, holding the bottle out. If he wanted more, she'd pour for him. Eventually setting the bottle back on the table, she leaned back in her seat and enjoyed the fact she was allowing herself a second glass that night.

"This is by far going to be one of the most riskiest heists we've ever encountered as a team. If Agravaine knew, he'd be on his horse right now with an angry mob of peasants behind him. They do love their Baron, you know. Something about minimal fairness does that to simple folk, when really they're no better off than ours." Evelyn said, a slight bite behind her words. 

She blinked, a wolfish grin playing at her lips. "The most difficult challenge of this entire heist, however, is trying to leave. Removing all the wealth from within the treasury, and somehow transporting all that out without anyone knowing. Flawlessly and efficiently too? That's a puzzle..."

Evelyn followed Lucius’ gaze as he sat opposite of her, and he caught a glitter in her eyes. "You're one of the few who could never bore me, my lord. But I would be grateful if you could sate my curiosity. Do we have anyone on the inside in Marceilles? Any friendly faces that could be bribed to keep doors open? Any secret entrances not recorded? Any events for the castle coming up?" Evelyn asked with interest.

Lucius stroked his chin in thought, as he began to recall all the important details for the task at hand.
“There is only one man we can count on, and he is the one closest to the baron himself. The advisor, Ruvelle, is obedient and loyal to us.” Lucius noted. “There is no other we can persuade or bribe, not at all at least in such a short time span before we commit the act.” Lucius added, before taking a sip from his cup. He swivelled his vessel and watched as the fine wine swished within the basin of ghostly crystal. “Ruvelle is our advantage and edge over a man who puts so much trust in his closest friends, but we have to be swift and decisive in the act, as he is also our best source of information.” Lucius remarked.

He then stood to his feet and paced around the chair, thinking further.
“Secret entrances into Marceilles… It will be easy to enter the city, but as for the castle, I don’t know of any hidden passages that will make our task any easier.” Lucius began, slowly moving around his chair before pausing behind it and resting his cup-holding hand over the back. “I have never really visited Marceilles, myself. Baron Agravaine has always hosted a disposition of suspicion and caution with me.” Lucius remarked aside.

Lucius then looked into his cup once more.
“As for any events, there are none we can afford to wait for.” Lucius replied simply, before glancing to Evelyn. She pursed her lips, looking in thought. Her fingers absentmindedly stroked the satin edge of her second hood.
"There's only a few ways I see of getting in. Either we sneak over the wall and quietly take out anyone in our way, or dress up as servants and blend in, or maybe someone stays the night due to poor weather and opens the door for my thieves when everyone's asleep." She surmised.

Lucius chuckled as he took his seat once again.
“A direct approach will only end in disaster, for they are thieves and not, for the most part, trained as warriors.” Lucius shot down her first idea. “As for a disguised approach, the baron’s eyes are as keen as our own for unfamiliar faces and thus he also has a suspicion for strangers in his presence.” He went on, cutting down her second idea. “The third is a little more viable, but the only one who can open the doors for us is Ruvelle. He also has access to the baron’s treasury as being advisor permits, which will help us later on.” Lucius discussed. He then looked to Evelyn for her thoughts as he took another sip, savouring the little more than half the cup he had left of the fine wine.

Evelyn sipped at the last drops in her cup, and she delicately poured for herself another.
"Fancy some more, my lord? It truly is divine." She said, holding the bottle out. Lucius had not even finished his cup, but smiled as he could not refuse such a generous offer.
“But of course! 433 is an unforgettable year, after all.” Lucius remarked, as he held out his cup and allowed Evelyn to top up his vessel. It was a comfortable interlude and moment of pause from all the plotting that needed to be done in order to lay down the groundwork to a heist of royal proportions.

Setting the bottle back on the table, Evelyn leaned back in her seat.
"This is by far going to be one of the most riskiest heists we've ever encountered as a team. If Agravaine knew, he'd be on his horse right now with an angry mob of peasants behind him. They do love their Baron, you know. Something about minimal fairness does that to simple folk, when really they're no better off than ours." Evelyn said with a slight bite behind her words.

Lucius smirked as he held his cup to the side and leaned on the arm of the chair.
“That is his edge and, I daresay I will revel when I see the day come, his downfall, to keep to a code of honour and valour reminiscent of the dogs of Wesirinfell. It is something our liege clearly despises and hates to see with Baron Agravaine.” Lucius commented. He then tilted his head upwards in thought for a moment, and then took a sip from his cup. “But as you say, the people who are loyal to him are no different to our own. He commands their love with selfless devotion, while we command our own populace with… Different methods and motivations.” Lucius further speculated.

He paused to take a sip from his cup, and then took a small breath.
“However, common people are all the same: They will only remain loyal to the rule of coin and influence of great men like our king. It only comes down to who controls the most money in this world, and where our resources are boundless in comparison, Baron Agravaine’s wealth is declining. With this heist, our liege will be more than pleased to show the foolish baron what becomes of those who hold onto chivalry in Ravenfell.” Lucius concluded with a chuckle, taking a few more sips from his cup.

She blinked, a wolfish grin playing at her lips.
"The most difficult challenge of this entire heist, however, is trying to leave. Removing all the wealth from within the treasury, and somehow transporting all that out without anyone knowing. Flawlessly and efficiently too? That's a puzzle..." She seemed to think aloud. Lucius chuckled again.
“Hm… Now that I think of it, there may be a sally port from Marceilles Castle as an invaluable option of escape for us.” Lucius added as an afterthought. “We cannot use it to enter the castle, as it would only be accessible from the inside, and the tunnel would be separate from any of the city’s underground infrastructure.” Lucius explained. A small smile of sheer brilliance striking came across his face. “But that will make it all the more easier for our thieves to haul the catch away safely. I would wager my ridiculous wealth of trinkets that there would be a sally port in the castle, not for troops, but for fleeing civilians. And fleeing civilians would no doubt find it easier to carry their belongings with the aid of carts.” He summarized.

Lucius then looked down at the table.
“I believe we may just have enough to draw up a plan, mi’lady.” Lucius finally noted. “Oh, but who were you thinking of sending to commit this dastardly deed?” Lucius then asked, the very thought piquing his curiosity as he swivelled his vessel once more, the cup almost finished and drunk dry of precious wine.

“There is only one man we can count on, and he is the one closest to the baron himself. The advisor, Ruvelle, is obedient and loyal to us." Lucius began, immediately drawing Evelyn's interest. She recognized that name, understanding exactly how key Ruvelle could be to their plan. Lucius continued to discuss possible paths into the city, but for the castle they'd need another way. The only idea that seemed to stick was using Ruvelle to get into the castle and it's treasury. 

When Lucius looked to her for an opinion, she didn't skip a beat. "So under no circumstances is Ruvelle's assistance in this matter be made known to any man in Marceilles. He's a powerful piece indeed if they are truly as close as you say. 

"We would need to agree on a time and door for him to open, but there's still a risk factor in him becoming discovered in the time the thieves are within Marceilles. They'll have to sneak, stick to the shadows. That way if they encounter any persons along the way it's just Ruvelle walking the corridors, 'unable to sleep.' No one should know anything's amiss until the heist is well finished. Or at least until they empty the treasury."

Evelyn took a long sip from her wine glass, amusement in her eyes as Lucius went on a tangent of mice and kings. His opinion was similar to hers, those with money had power. "Baron Agravaine’s wealth is declining. With this heist, our liege will be more than pleased to show the foolish baron what becomes of those who hold onto chivalry in Ravenfell."

In her puzzlement over transporting Agravaine's wealth, Lucius proposed a solution that Evelyn almost felt good about. She saw the sudden insight behind his eyes, the satisfaction of a plan piecing together. "I would wager my ridiculous wealth of trinkets that there would be a sally port in the castle, not for troops, but for fleeing civilians. And fleeing civilians would no doubt find it easier to carry their belongings with the aid of carts.”

"Then we may need to verify the locations of these carts and ports." Evelyn smiled, clapping her hands thrice. "Mm, I love the sound of a scheme coming together. I'm terribly excited, probably too much for my own good."

Curiosity was written in every facet of Lucius' demeanor. “Oh, but who were you thinking of sending to commit this dastardly deed?”

"That's actually something I wanted to discuss with you, my lord. I have a few excellent thieves I know would kill for the job, but I was wondering if you wanted to invite one of your people for the heist. Divines know their talents accomplish more together. 

"There's an Elven vampire amidst the ranks in the Guild named Tsu'tey Galaos. His thievery and stealth skills are talk of legend, he's quick with a bow, and I think he's exactly what we need for this heist. 

"Of course, I know of a Breton who would be all over robbing a castle, and would consider it child's play. He's an expert in illusion magic, using it to run circles around his victims -- sometimes literally. Rahard Gemerth, a man who truly loves his work and is also a piece to consider." Evelyn listed off thoughtfully, savoring the taste of ambrosia in her mouth. The wine warmed her body and brought a pleasant heaviness to her head. The image of a glowing fireplace in the home of her childhood was all she could compare it to.

"I hate to bring up the court after we've spent all evening there, but there's one final topic of interest I have for you, my lord." Evelyn said, leaning forward. "It has to do with our... Newest addition. As I assumed you spoke with her earlier, did you learn anything?"

Lucius looked at Evelyn intently, listening attentively as she spelled out her choices.
"That's actually something I wanted to discuss with you, my lord. I have a few excellent thieves I know would kill for the job, but I was wondering if you wanted to invite one of your people for the heist. Divines know their talents accomplish more together.” Evelyn began. Lucius thought about it for a moment, wondering where an assassin would fit into it all, but then he thought of a wonderful choice.
“There is one that comes to mind: Devlin Mallory.” Lucius began, recalling the young he reserves at the popular establishment in town. “He is well-trained in thievery just as well as he is in killing. I dare-say, his time spent at The Loving Rose has taught him a lot. After all, it is an establishment your people own and frequent for more than what meets the eyes, no?” Lucius elaborated as he put down his cup for the moment, sitting up properly and clasping his hands together. “In any case, I elect him to join the heist. I do have some sort of intent for my choice.” Lucius added as final thought.

“Now, your choices, mi’lady… Do tell.” Lucius prompted, bearing a tone of interest.
"There's an Elven vampire amidst the ranks in the Guild named Tsu'tey Galaos. His thievery and stealth skills are talk of legend, he's quick with a bow, and I think he's exactly what we need for this heist.” Evelyn began. Lucius tilted his head and smiled.
“Indeed? I suppose this heist does warrant the cunning of the night. But do you have another with more unique talent to add to this quarry?” Lucius asked.
"Of course, I know of a Breton who would be all over robbing a castle, and would consider it child's play. He's an expert in illusion magic, using it to run circles around his victims -- sometimes literally. Rahard Gemerth, a man who truly loves his work and is also a piece to consider." Evelyn listed off thoughtfully. Lucius chuckled, picking up his cup and finishing off his drink in a single and subtle sip, before returning the cup to its rest upon the table.
“Then I believe we are set. They are a rather odd but sufficient group of versatile individuals. All that is left is to finalize the plan, gather them all up and move them into Marceilles.” Lucius concluded.

He then noticed Evelyn appeared to have a side thought on her mind.
"I hate to bring up the court after we've spent all evening there, but there's one final topic of interest I have for you, my lord." Evelyn said, leaning forward. Lucius tilted his head curiously and leaned forward also.
“What is it, mi’lady?” Lucius asked.
"It has to do with our... Newest addition. As I assumed you spoke with her earlier, did you learn anything?" Evelyn wondered.

Lucius recalled the charming young songstress, and he tapped the table gently as he recalled their meeting.
“Her name is Mirabelle Valois, and ordinarily, she is a songstress and fair maiden our liege has saw fit to let into his court for those very reasons.” Lucius began. He then smirked. “I learnt… Much, from our very brief encounter. First and foremost… Her eyes…” Lucius went on, remembering what he had saw very clearly in his mind in the present. “They were sharp… Piercing and perceptive… They were the eyes of someone like you or I, somebody who is familiar with the arts of the criminal underworld.” Lucius detailed, hinting very clearly at what he was about to establish. “I could not even deny it to myself when I just saw through her acting. Modesty, humble sweetness, and a voice littered with false tones.” Lucius went on, further listing the other intricacies of the woman they were analysing closely. “She was good, but not good enough. She would never have guessed how many a time I have shown my apprentices how to feign appearance, and how well we do it in our craft.” Lucius embellished. “But I do not underestimate her skill. If she were one of my own, I would gladly call her one of the best. Which brings me to my conclusion…” Lucius added, before entailing to his judgement.

He leaned closer towards the table, stilling his tapping fingers.
“If not I, then someone else has given this woman the utmost professional training. There is no doubt she is either an assassin or a spy, so we must watch her closer than we first thought.” He concluded, summarizing all his findings into a single result. He stared at Evelyn, watching the knowledge sink in.

“Then I believe we are set. They are a rather odd but sufficient group of versatile individuals. All that is left is to finalize the plan, gather them all up and move them into Marceilles.”

"Certainly, I'll contact my people right away. And I know you'll want to be there when the King gives his approval of the plan tomorrow morning." Evelyn winked, slowly circling the rim of her glass with a finger. Although they were conjured, the crystal peeled out a ghostly ring.

As she predicted, Lucius already knew what was what with their esteemed friend. He spoke at length of his encounter with her, and Evelyn absorbed every word, trying to paint a better picture of their new courtier. Her past was still uncertain, but Evelyn knew where to find information. From what she could see, Mirabelle would either be a great and marvelous challenge, an eventual asset, or the torch bearer in setting their empire alight. Evelyn preferred the first two. 

Lucius boiled down his thoughts to a conclusion she was mostly impressed with. “If not I, then someone else has given this woman the utmost professional training. There is no doubt she is either an assassin or a spy, so we must watch her closer than we first thought.”

Amused. "Oh, but watching like a hound is such a bore sometimes. It's more fun when you let them have their move, it gives you more to play with." Evelyn said, flashing a wolfish grin. "But I do understand the severity of having a potential spy in our court, and it will be dealt with in a timely fashion, as always. If I find something useful, you'll be the first to know it."

The Mage stood with the crystals in hand, breaking her conjuration spells in a shatter of glass. Brushing her hands on the front of her robes, her eyes wandered the room. "There's so much to do, I don't think I'll be sleeping much tonight. But if there's nothing further, my dear Lucius," She said, meeting his eyes with a disarming smile when she addressed him by name, "Then I would bid you a fond adieu, for it's late. And the day starts early for His Majesty. Plus I have a, hmn... meeting with Kester in the morning."

"Certainly, I'll contact my people right away. And I know you'll want to be there when the King gives his approval of the plan tomorrow morning." Evelyn winked, slowly circling the rim of her glass with a finger. Although they were conjured, the crystal peeled out a ghostly ring.

Lucius had explained everything he gathered about Mirabelle, and made his conclusion. Evelyn had an amused impression.
"Oh, but watching like a hound is such a bore sometimes. It's more fun when you let them have their move, it gives you more to play with." Evelyn said, flashing a wolfish grin. Lucius chuckled at Evelyn's suggestion, but shook his head.
"Until they make a move that ruins almost all your plans." Lucius remarked humorously.
"But I do understand the severity of having a potential spy in our court, and it will be dealt with in a timely fashion, as always. If I find something useful, you'll be the first to know it." Evelyn commented. Lucius nodded and set down an empty glass.
"I look forward to hearing more of our quarry then." He noted.

Evelyn stood with the crystals in hand, breaking her conjuration spells in a shatter of glass. Brushing her hands on the front of her robes, her eyes wandered the room. "There's so much to do, I don't think I'll be sleeping much tonight. But if there's nothing further, my dear Lucius," She said, meeting his eyes with a disarming smile when she addressed him by name. Lucius nodded as he stood to his feet as well, retaliating her smile with a charming smirk of his own.
"Indeed. Then I shall leave you to it, and retire myself to my chambers." Lucius replied.

"Then I would bid you a fond adieu, for it's late. And the day starts early for His Majesty. Plus I have a, hmn... meeting with Kester in the morning." Evelyn added. Lucius tilted his head curiously.
"The young and naive courtier? Don't toy with him too much. He might break, I would think." Lucius spoke in jest. He finally then took a bow, and his leave. "Regardless, we will speak more at a later point. I bid you a fond adieu, mi'lady Evelyn." Lucius bid in farewell, before heading towards the doorway and exiting the lady's chambers, departing for his own bedchambers for some rest.

And who said there's no rest for the wicked?

"The young and naive courtier? Don't toy with him too much. He might break, I would think. Regardless, we will speak more at a later point. I bid you a fond adieu, mi'lady Evelyn."

She chuckled at the comment toward Kester, knowing he was entirely right. But it wasn't Kester she was too worried about; he'd be able to handle the task she'd ask of him. He was too innocent to be perceived as a threat, and her whole little plan hinged on that one aspect. 

For formalities, Evelyn curtsied back and gave Lucius a gracious nod, waving him off with a smile as he left the study. Heaving a sigh of relief in the sudden quiet after, Evelyn rested herself in one of the velvet chairs. The slight ring in her ears signified just how much talking had taken place earlier, and she was tired. Not enough to sleep yet, but soon. 

She paced the floor of the study in ponderous silence, but it didn't take long for the darker side of her thoughts to come crawling up from the hidden parts of her mind. Since there was no longer a plan to be formulated, there was nothing distracting her from a wandering, traitorous mind. Thoughts were living things, and Evelyn called these particular ones demons. They had tormented her for years.

Haunting images of a man set on fire burned on the backs of her eyelids, the first human being she had ever taken the life from. His eyes, wide in shock and grief. His mouth, moving without a sound. Ash fell from his lips, his burnt skin flaked away...

No! Think of something else, anything else. The King, the nobles, your meeting tomorrow. Something... Evelyn thought desperately, but the burning man remained.

Children and widows of people she killed to further her own agenda weighed heavily in her mind. As she built up the thieves, so too did she multiply enemies. All those who swore vengeance against her who didn't even know who it was they were to hate and blame. She could sense it, the hurt and pain in the land caused by the thieves, assassins and spies working behind the scenes to make the honest man suffer. And she loathed herself for it. Despised herself for causing such grief. 

The raw hate choked the air out of the room, and Evelyn felt feverish. The thoughts, they wouldn't ever stop haunting her, reminding her. The children's dirtied faces, the loss of light in the lover's eyes. It was infuriating; they would drive her mad!

Angry tears seeped from her gray eyes as Evelyn gritted her teeth in a snarl. The empty wine bottle was the only thing in arms's reach, and her trembling hands snatched it up as she marched to her personal quarters. 

Without a second thought, Evelyn violently launched the bottle out the bedroom window, watching it spin through the air as it fell a distance to the courtyard below. Even in the darkness she could see it shatter to bits the instant it met the ground, and the sound of glass split the night. 

The ring in her ears calmed the torrent of demons clawing their way around in her mind, and she sucked in a breath of night air. Calm, relaxed, collected. Get ahold of yourself, my dear...

The elf stared dully out the window, barely taking in the canopy of stars above and the expansive view below. Slowly, the blackness absorbed her, and she realized something so true, she had no idea how she didn't know it before. Standing there, facing the sky with the coldest of silver eyes, Evelyn bared her teeth. 

"I am dead inside. The Reaper's kiss is upon my cold heart, and I will never shrink from this bitter cup again."

Empowerment filled every fiber of her being, and her eyes glowed a new evil. Her demons she devoured and consumed as she embraced a darker monstrosity. Never would she be weak again. If they wanted their revenge, she welcomed it. She would look them in the eyes and savor watching their soul being torn from them. Without even an inkling of remorse, she would be what she was destined to be.

With these thoughts, Evelyn retired to bed. The night that wrapped her up safely in obscurity would soon give way to morning. 

Mirabelle wandered the corridors with utmost caution. Her eyes and ears were keened as the candlelight of candelabras mounted on the walls exposed her shadowy form. She listened for the footsteps, and then the jangling of belts in order to determine how many people there may be. She maintained this approach as she moved onward. Mirabelle was aware that people will begin dispersing from the hall soon enough, and she had to be quick. If I were a corrupt king, where would my personal effects be...? Mirabelle wondered to herself. She then knew her answer in a heartbeat. Mirabelle began to make her way to the king's suite of the castle, taking care not to be seen by anyone along the way.

She glanced around when she was on the royal apartments level of the palace. Around here, she knew the noble barons staying at Arthroyeaux would have their own living quarters on this level. At the moment, the Court Royale was not in session, which made it all the more easier for Mirabelle to wander without being witnessed. As long as the Baron Garthois and his Majesty DuRant are still downstairs... Mirabelle thought.

The young nightingale swept through shadows instinctively, before entering the king's quarters with ease. Royalty's locks were as easy as any other to a maiden so adept in the art of investigating the nobility. The only difference was the amount of time it took to unlock. Once the door clicked open, the nightingale slipped into the living quarters and looked around. Mirabelle was comforted only slightly by how alone she should be at that moment, but she still glanced over her shoulder nonetheless.

There was nothing that was out of the ordinary for a king's living quarters. It was tidy, neat and ready to be used as if it had never been. Mirabelle noted there was little she could do inquisitively. At least, not without needing to spend the time putting everything back to what it was before she departs. Mirabelle sighed through her nose and then glanced over to the other doors. One lead to the bathroom, and the other lead to the king's study. The former caught her interest immediately.

Mirabelle examined the study as she entered, noticing how less tidy it was compared to the living quarters proper. This was to Mirabelle's advantage. She started perusing through all of the curious documents left lying about and seemingly forgotten on the desk in haste. Many of them were letters from barons and baronets, invitations, complaints, or appeals, many of which were unopened and cast aside. After a while of sifting through the documents, Mirabelle tilted her head in curiosity as she looked over the opened letters. She noticed names that she knew no longer held titles of barony. So... Is this just a coincidence, my king? She wondered slightly. She then looked upon a ledger containing numbers, riches to anyone's eyes, of immense taxes and rents paid by the peoples of Ravenfell.

The thought of DuRant smiling over this ledger disgusted Mirabelle. She just about moved away from the desk, when she noticed something. It was an opened letter, but she could recognize the lower part of the broken black seal that was used on the envelope. Mirabelle's brow furrowed in curiosity, and she took out the neatly handwritten note inside.

My lord,

I have accepted your offer.
We will meet tonight after the feast.
Find me in the library.

Yours sincerely

The note was vague and suspicious, just as much as the seal that was used. Mirabelle returned the note just as it was, and made sure everything appeared untouched. She then pondered about the mysterious meeting that seemed scheduled for tonight. I have to see this for myself... But then I would be leaving this behind. There is bound to be solid evidence here of his treachery... She debated with herself. She then bit her lip and then came to her decision. But surely this meeting will give me more of a lead on who he is affiliated with. Mirabelle told herself, before departing from the living quarters. After leaving, she relocked the door, as any nightingale does, leaving no traces of her passing. She then made her way to the library, well aware that the feast was over by now, and that the meeting was to occur soon.

Damien's eyes wandered across the hall as he watched and waited. He avoided taking part in the festivities of the feast by his seat of divine authority. Nobody would question the king remaining in his throne for so long without interaction at all with the court. After all, nobody was high enough in his favor to dare speak with him. At least, not with the same familiarity that was reserved by Lucius or Evelyn. Neither would Damien care much for most of his subjects in his court. Many of them were figureheads; placeholders to prevent rivals from infiltrating the court. Through Evelyn's intel, Damien knew each and every one of them infinitely well before or during their stay in his court. If they turn out to be more than he imagined, then it came down to whether or not they would be recruited... Or destroyed.

Again, this was not the case at all for many of them. The lot of these courtiers were simply leeching nobles trying to get ahead of the rest in Arthroyeaux. Damien could almost feel disgusted if he did not have so much of a use for them, as much as he hated to admit it. Regardless, time began to pass quickly. Before long, Damien saw it fit to conclude the feast and dismiss the court for the hour of rest. He stood to his feet and clapped his hands for attention, which was raptly delivered.
"My dearest subjects, it has been a good feast, but now I believe is the time to retire!" He announced. "However, I will not conclude without one final toast!" He went on, picking up and raising his cup to the court. The courtiers responded likewise, waiting for his call. "To good health!" Damien toasted, before drinking from his cup. The rest of the court reiterated his words, and followed suit. The foolish mimicry of the courtiers almost made Damien snort mid-drink.

Finishing his cup, Damien laid his vessel to rest and then headed off without another word. The courtiers then slowly found their own way to their bedrooms, either drunk with wine or distracted by conversation. Damien made a detour off his path to his bedchamber however, and headed towards the library, intent on meeting his contact and making the proper arrangements in person. A small smile tugged at the corners of his face, but he stilled his expression each time he passed flashes of torchlight.

As the sword began to grumble and whispering "Kill" Repeatidly, Tikky had had enough. She took a sharp turn to the side, to an old oak tree, and then stopped, making a blunt landing on the tree. She tore the belt holding the sheath ,and then threw the sword onto a branch, letting it dangle freely and then hissed
"Ya know what? If you don't pipe it down, ill make sure to hide you in the deepest chasm. Or even better. In a lake, at the bottom of it, just to make sure you will NEVER be found. I know, "She said and acted all sad and heartbroken "That parting will you, a well smithed sword, will be tragic and unfortunate, but" she said and lifted her arms up while wandering casually back and forth on the branch "i guess it cant be helped. ".

She then pulled the strap over her shoulder again and flew back on path right as Thrak came from around a tree.
"Youre off the path already, lost your way?. Is there any brain left in you? Did your mommy drop you from your nest when you were a baby?" he mocked her and Tikki growled back.
"For someone as old as you, youre certantly acting like a child!" . She flew higher into the treetops and soon there was more netixels around. They had reached the headquarters, and after flying past a few dark tree-based-cottages connected by rope and plank bridges, she reached the main circle.

"Tikki!" A strong and angry voice called. It was her father and she knew she was in trouble already.
"Father.." she pleaded as she landed, "Im basically an adult, why do you insist on sending these clowns" she nodded at Thrak, Kuril and the guy she couldnt remember the name of "after me?"
"Tikki. The leaders here find that you are different. They are growing tired of your wrecklessness and worried of your behaviour. Youre turning more agressive and you dont know your place, and soon I wont be able to defend you or send guardians after you."
"I dont /NEED/ guardians. I need traning in weponry, not FISHING. " she groaned. "And I want to LEARN things. Why cant we socialize?"

"Yeah, why not? because people are weak. We aren't suposed to make friends with our enemies, let alone humans. But hey, go along, and socialize all you want. Youre getting kicked out soon enough" Thrak said and bared teeth.
"Thrak! learn your place!" Tikkis father said hisvoice booming out over the treetops.
"Or what, old man? You're going to show us our place? Are you going to diciplin us like you diciplinned your pathetic excuse of a daughter?" he said now baring teeth at the man, and drawing his weapons, twin swords.
"Stop i right now!!" Tikki growled and stood inbetween her father and Thrak, who was now being backed up by Kurîl and the big guy. She was clenshing the sword, prepared for any sign of attack.
"Awww, how cute, the baby wants to protect the ancient one. What a shame that itll be a slaughter."

By now the whole clan was crowding around the sceen. The leader, tikkis father, had been challanged, and there for a new ranking would be made. Whoever won the fight would be the new leader.
"Shame its going to be YOUR slaughter" Tikki said and then pulled the enchanted sword out thinking angirly to it "You better work fuckin magic."

Gram was enraged by the threats being leveled at him by this upstart of a girl. She seemed to think that threatening godlike weapons at least ten times her age was totally acceptable. He said nothing, though, deciding that at this point, it would be best to just be quiet. He didn't want to risk actually getting thrown to the bottom of a lake. People didn't tend to frequent the bottoms of lakes. Indeed, he didn't know of any beings who did, except maybe Naiads, but they were only interesting in luring weak-minded adventurers to their deaths. They had no use for a sword, and he feared being ignored more than anything. Boredom was so close to ceasing, now that he had a wielder. He just wished he could have one that wasn't so mouthy. A strong, violent owner was what he needed. Someone with real potential. He supposed this one would do, though. At least until someone bested her. Then he'd convince whoever that was, that he was superior weapon, and be off again. Hopefully on real adventures.

Having mastered the slow thought, the weapon found itself in a village before he knew it, and very soon he felt hands on his hilt. He would have shuddered with excitement if such a thing were possible, but being a sword, all he could manage was a groan of anticipation. Then he heard the word slaughter. This was definitely going to be that. Surtr shouted in triumph when he was pulled from his scabbard, and he whole-heartedly agreed with Tikki's statement. "Oh, I'll work very hard, my dear. You'll never find a more satisfying weapon." he promised in reply to her thoughts. Already his magic was working, tendrils of violence winding up her arms, gripping her with skill, a mastery over killing that only a weapon could have. Then, because he thought it was a good way to set the tone, he caught on fire. The blade burst violently into flames that shifted from green to purple, to gold, and then began shimmering between golden and electrical blue as they burned.

"Now shift your grip." he commanded his wielder. "You're not big enough to wield me like a normal sword. Your good hand goes just above my pommel, that's the metal part at the end. Your other hand goes just below the pointy things that start the blade off. Those are called quillions. Your good hand provides the power, and your other hand steers. You can swing me like a sword, or wield me like a spear, this way." eager to get started, the flames around the blade got bigger. They couldn't hurt Tikki, but her opponent would find that the fire burned flesh quite nicely, being hot enough to actually start burning the meat that these poor beings were constructed from. "Whenever you're ready, run him through." he added, wishing he had a mouth to grin with. Nothung was thrilled beyond words, and its bloodlust was palpable, radiating off the weapon like an air freshener, slowly overtaking all other emotions in the vicinity. But it was subtle enough that anyone not actually wielding him probably wouldn't feel it for a long time. And if this one died, he'd probably settle down for at least a day.

Unfortunately for his new owner, Gram lived on a diet of violence and death. And while he didn't actually need to eat, he was more than capable of irritating her to no end if she wouldn't feed him. And now that she knew exactly what he could do, she'd likely want him around. Not many would face off against anyone wielding a giant, flaming sword that could impart to its wielder the necessary skill to slaughter their enemies. Or murder them while they slept. He wasn't picky, so long as blood was spilled by his edge...

Mirabelle made swift steps, light as feathers in their fall upon wooden flooring, and entered the library through the upper level. She was careful, exerting the utmost soul of caution when she slipped in amongst the bookshelves of the upper floor. She glanced briefly around to see if anyone was watching, before looking down into the lower level of the library and scanning the reading area. Nobody appeared to be around, although Mirabelle wagered that whoever it was perhaps may be hiding amongst the bookshelves too.

Mirabelle remained still at the thought, as she saw no need to get into any better of a viewing position. It was no less similar of situation to two mice hiding in the shadows from each other. The only way they would find one another is bumping into each other, and Mirabelle hoped that would not happen. This is the reason she despised being in the room with another spy, especially one who was of her calibre. It always made things awkward.

Mirabelle simply stood in the shadows of ancient and contemporary texts. She waited for the meeting between the king and his mysterious benefactor to commence, with patience sufficient to await the Ending if need be.

Damien swept through the hallways with his cloak fleeting through the air. Shadows danced around him as he neared the library. A guard stood watch by the doors, and the king nodded to him. The guard saluted and unlocked the door for the king. Damien glanced over his shoulder warily to make sure nobody else was watching. He then entered when he was satisfied with his secrecy. He shut the doors behind him and entered the darkness of the library, a lone candle burned in the reading area. Damien made his way over to the assortment of tables and seats, curious to where his mysterious benefactor was. He did not take a seat, so not to appear so careless and relaxed with his own safety. However, he knew how quickly and efficiently his benefactor could eliminate him. So ultimately, this whole meeting was a gambit he played along with.

Damien looked around for his esteemed guest of the night, but his search of the shadows was futile. He then glanced down at the table and noticed a note was slipped under the plate of the candle. He slipped it out to read the note, but made a quick glance at his surroundings beforehand. Damien then scanned the contents written.

You are being watched by a rogue rat. Call for the guards.

The note was simple and brief like the last. Damien calmly lowered the note to his side and scrunched it in his fist. Inside, he was annoyed that the meeting was ruined, but he resolved by concluding that his benefactor is already on his side if they have pointed out a rogue. Damien did as the note instructed.
"Guards! Guards! There is an intruder!" Damien bellowed for his security. His guards were roused and summoned to their lord, as the made their way to the library. The second floor was also closed in on, as the few guards on duty coordinated to trap the intruder. Damien smirked as his training of his guards in this way turned out useful. Whoever it was that was spying on him will have a difficult time slipping out without being seen.

Mirabelle's eyes darted to the door as it creaked and torchlight surged into the dark library. The King, in all his infamy, entered the library with a glance and nod to the guard. The door was locked behind him after a brief moment, and the king looked to the library that was once again plunged into darkness. Within the encompassing shadows, a lone candle burned in the reading area. Mirabelle watched closely with a sentry's gaze as the King approached the candle. He glanced around, also searching for his mysterious guest. The Nightingale was patient as the man's heavy and imposing footsteps struck the rich wooden floor. Inside, Mirabelle was all too eager for the elusive agent to reveal their person to both the King and her. The man paused before the table, not daring to take a seat, but instead he searched the shadows.

Mirabelle edged a little closer when the King stopped and looked down at the table. He then picked up what looked like a note from beneath the plate and made a quick glance around. In her head, Mirabelle's warning bells were ringing loud and clear, but she hesitated with a stubborn certainty the agent would reveal their person.

The King read the note, and nothing seemed to happen as Mirabelle imagined. She thought that perhaps, in a surprise turn of events, it was a effortless assassination. But the King simply lowered the note to his side, before scrunching it in his fist. There was an air of annoyance about him, and Mirabelle decided it was time to move.
"Guards! Guards! There is an intruder!" Damien bellowed for his security. His guards were roused and summoned to their lord, as they made their way to the library. The second floor was also closed in on, as the few guards on duty coordinated to trap the intruder. Mirabelle looked scornfully upon this, scowling internally at the smirk of satisfaction on the King's face at the sight of well-trained guards.

It was clear that she had her work cut out for her if she was to escape without being discovered, neither as Nightingale nor rogue. Mirabelle had to do what she did best: Disappear. She darted quickly as the torchlights flooded the room, one by one. The fiery illumination snapped at her heels like silently relentless dogs voiced only by the shouts of the guards. Mirabelle ran for the only place they could not enter from, realistically...

The window.

Mirabelle grabbed her bottled smoke at the last few feet and smashed it on the floor before leaping at the large window. She smashed through and held agilely onto the window frame as it swung open violently. The bottled smoke did it's work to obscure the guards' line of sight for the moment. This gave Mirabelle the few seconds she needed to make her ascent safely and carefully, if you could apply that word, as possible. She wasted not even a shred of a second as she launched herself up, feet on the frame and grabbed at the stones of the castle exterior. In this escape plan, her life depended on a Nightingale's legendary agility. Even after so many times similar yet paling in comparison to this moment, Mirabelle's heart pounded from the adrenaline of climbing. She needed to move quickly, as in the next few moments the guards would poke their heads through the window to search for her. Then in the next moment after, they would look up and see where she is going. She had to lose them here and then.

Another stone grabbed, the next--
Fell away at her grip! In shock and surprise, only a moment away from her literal window of escape. She watched as the loose stone that signified a precious moment wasted fell before her, and she groaned in shock as she was pulled down by force of fall. She was only saved by her left hand. With a silent prayer fulfilled, she saw the stone fall without the guards poking their heads out. It was if not by a close bare second between them not noticing it, and the undesirable situation of the stone knocking one of them out which would result in the other looking up. Mirabelle took this chance and recovered her desperate climb. She grabbed at any stone, knowing that it did not matter if one stone or the other was just as loose as that other one. It was now to escape, or never to live.

Triumph was in her grasp in the form of the windowsill. She pulled herself up as the guards looked into the castle grounds and around for a moment, before looking up. It was hopefully the last of close calls, as Mirabelle had pressed fatefully up against the window in that instant. When she heard the guards grumble, she checked the floor the window was on, and then entered quietly when she was certain there was none to detect her. She followed her usual pattern and shut the windows behind her, before making her way to her quarters to change dress and quickly take up the guise of the innocent songstress once more.

When the guards entered hastily, the intruder left just as quickly. In a cloud of smoke, a few of the guards plunged in to pursue the intruder, and Damien's brow furrowed. A few moments later, they returned grumbling, and Damien walked out of the library. His attache followed him, but Damien looked his guards dead in the eye.
"Keep searching! Level each floor quickly and seal off the lower floors. Find that intruder!" Damien ordered, and his guards saluted. They relayed his orders to the other guards, and the rest of the men began to disperse from floor to floor. Damien saw himself out to ascend to the upper floors. Throughout the castle, the guards moved quickly, scouring every inch and shadow of the hallways with their torches and open eyes.

The wardrobe was shut, her sleeping gown donned, and then Mirabelle moved through the darkness of her room before slipping into bed. She waited, and then heard the guards storming the castle. She smiled a little, feeling a little reminiscent of times like this when she saw guards as blind dogs chasing tails. She knew everyone would be waking up now, so she yawned and got out of bed. Mirabelle walked over to the door, wearing her "I was awoken abruptly" face as she opened the door and peered out. All along the corridor, people were poking their tired faces out and watching the guards move by, shouting as they waved the light of their torches around like inquisitors with a vigil.
"What's going on...?" Mirabelle asked uncertainly, rubbing her eyes.