Afaedean summers were always excruciatingly warm, the air heavy and thick even after the sun had found its bed beneath the horizon. The sky was clear, the moon casting a cool white light across the white and gold stone of the palace, and the city had settled into a peaceful stillness. For now it seemed the bustle of the trade fair the previous week had faded. Namyna sighed, already missing the lively travelers and entertainers it had brought. A yawn came to her lips as she looked across the city from the back halls, the quietest wing of the whole palace. The lake shimmered beyond the city walls, reflecting like thousands of diamonds. She idly wondered whether she could slip past the guards to escape to its cool, windy shores.

"You're up later than usual," a familiar voice commented, amused. Namyna didn't even turn to face him, a smirk crawling its way to her lips.

"I could say the same of you," she returned. "A prince is no good to his people if he sleeps the day away."

"I am not the one that sleeps until after high noon."

Namyna finally turned, her tongue poking out from her lips at the comment. "There are worse things than beauty rest for a princess."

Brelan chuckled, giving a playful hit to her arm. "Is that what you call it?" Namyna struck out against his arm in return, much harder than her twin. He laughed harder, earning another punch. He wrapped his arms around hers, despite the flailing it incurred, placing a kiss against her forehead. She attempted to headbutt him in the process, just barely missing. Still, it brought a smile to her face - she would've denied it if asked.

"Get some sleep," Brelan chuckled as he set her down, turning to continue on his original path down the hallway, waving his hand over his head as he went. "I'm going to make sure you're up for sparring practice at dawn."

"Don't you dare," she called after him, hearing only laughter in his wake.

The princess turned again to the balcony, soaking in the moon's light and the sight of her city. Sleep would still be a while off; it would be no harm if she remained here for a few more minutes.

This part of the palace was quiet and dark. This was pleasing to Gareth. He liked the quiet well enough, and its relative emptiness was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle it had been the past week as he laid in wait. For a whole week he had endured being around countless people, pushing, shoving, sweating, making noise... all for the capture of one girl. But now, he couldn't help but feel it was entirely worth it. He had gotten to see such a wonderful view, and the only things that stood in his way were a few guards that were, thankfully, relatively easy to knock out without any fuss. Afaede was a kingdom of relative peace, and it showed in the palace's calm demeanor.

Still, it had been no walk in the park. It had been a grueling week of planning routes, contingencies, and talking to people. All for the glint of gold... His employer should be satisfied with the quality of his work. Nobody had recognized him on the street, and nobody had seen even a hair on his head since he first set foot in the palace. If it were any busier, if patrols were more frequent, it would be easy to come across his trail of unconscious guards. But his target was in sight now. Even if he got ambushed by three or four guards, it would be too late.

As he melded into the shadows, calming his breaths, he watched the prince and princess interact. He had no interest in the prince, but the girl, his target, did interest him. She was a fighter, he could tell from her bearing. Perhaps a bit of a tomboy. Gareth ran a hand through his disheveled hair, closing his eyes for a minute. It was not going to be an easy trip, that was for sure.

The princess was looking out over the balcony, at her city, to be sure. It was a beautiful sight, but for Gareth, it was simply a distraction. And a good one at that. Once he had confirmed the departure of the prince, he left his post in the shadows, sneaking up behind the girl, where he would snake a hand around to grab her mouth, reaching for his sword with the other hand, but not moving aggressively beyond that. Holding this pose, he spoke to her before she could get a word out.

"If you don't struggle, I will not hurt you. If you scream, you're going to sleep. Either way, you're coming with me. What'll it be, Princess?"

The hand that pressed against her face was unfamiliar, rough skin pressing her lips shut. She smelled the thick scent of leather and metal - he was armed. Panic gripped her, her breath catching in her throat. Even still, she managed to keep herself from lashing out. His gruff voice was in her ear, and she cringed away slightly. Son of a bitch. Her arms shook, her mind raced. Brelan was likely too far off to hear her, even if she did scream out. She would be surprised if there were guards left in the vicinity to help. She didn't even have her own knives on her, the items left stashed in the drawer of her dresser. Her stomach dropped as she suddenly felt terrifyingly alone. But now was not the time to freeze and cry. She had to act.

What felt like minutes must have been seconds before she reacted. Acting on instinct, one arm struck out behind her with her elbow, using her full force to jab towards his rib cage. In the same motion her opposite hand reached for the hand that held her, grabbing the wrist and twisting at the same moment her elbow made contact. Both actions did little harm past the gear he'd adorned, but it still gave her the distraction she needed for just the smallest amount of room to slip from his hand. Without hesitation, or even the curiosity to look back at her attacker, she began to sprint down the hallway.

"Brelan!" she shrieked as she ran, regardless of its usefulness, hoping for anyone to even know her whereabouts. It didn't help that she'd been wearing the Gods-forsaken dress her father had insisted upon. She had few precious seconds to think. Her eyes searched wildly for anything of use. If she could just get a weapon in her hand...

Gareth felt the elbow aimed to his chest, and the hand that grabbed his wrist. There was no harm done, being that she was unarmed and he was in full leather gear (he had left his plate back at his makeshift camp.) However, it did surprise him. He was expecting a scream, or even a fight, and was prepared to knock her out with the pommel of his sword if she resisted, but what he didn't expect was for her to be so damned fast!

"Ugh, pain in my-" he cut himself off as he wheeled around, giving chase to her fleeing form. He could outrun her, he was confident, but she was raising quite a ruckus. There was only so far she could get in the palace before somebody heard her. Gareth needed to be fast. Luckily, he was as quick to think as he was on his feet. He'd brought a belt of small knives, just four of them strapped to his waist. He would need to be careful, but if he could aim his shots just right... while he was running, no less...

His first throw sailed wide over her head. He would be surprised if she even noticed it, it was so poor a miss. But the second and third were much closer. The second throw had embedded itself slightly within one of the stone pillars that were spread through the hallway; the third knife landed right where he wanted, where the hem of her formal dress touched the floor. It wouldn't be a firm anchor by any means, but it might throw her off balance and slow her flight. He kept his fourth knife on his person just in case, but at least one of the knives had done their proper job. and if the princess was fearful at all of warning shots, she might even stop running entirely.

Well, maybe that last bit is too much to hope for.

The time for negotiations was probably past, so after he had confirmed the last hit, Gareth unsheathed his sword, and old and weathered affair, while closing the distance between himself and the princess. If she wouldn't bend to reason, she would have to bend to steel. And if she continued making noise, he would have to resort to unfortunate measures.

She wasn't sure she had seen the first blade correctly until the second embedded itself mere inches from her, into one of the stone pillars. Whether he was missing on purpose or just an incredibly horrible shot, he was throwing his weapons with purpose. She flinched instinctively as she ran, hoping he wouldn't have many of the blades left. He didn't seem to want her dead, or she would have been long before she would have had the chance to fight back. No, he was here for something else. She pushed the thought away as she ran.

Suddenly the dress she loathed so deeply caught behind her. Though the light fabric tore with the weight of her forward movement, the hiccup in her momentum still left her stumbling to the ground. She gasped painfully as her side hit the smooth stone with a resounding thud, pain spreading through her side. Giving herself the smallest moment of hesitation, she rolled onto her back, heart dropping with how close her pursuer still was. Scrambling forward, she made to grab for the blade he'd thrown, before a familiar voice rang through the hall.

"Myna!" Brelan's voice called out, still dishearteningly far from her. She could hear the panic in his voice.

Namyna opened her mouth to call out to him before the sudden flash of steel entered her vision. Her assailant was even more armed than she had realized, the large blade held threateningly in his grip. The princess faltered. Not for the threat of her own safety, for she would have gladly continued to struggle with a blade now within reach. But she had made a terrible mistake. Brelan would be upon them in a matter of minutes even if she remained silent, and she would bet more than her fair share of her father's wealth that he had not grabbed his own weapons in the short time he'd been gone. Her attacker didn't seem to want her dead just yet, but how concerned would he be with others?

Brelan's voice seemed to get closer, a fact that would not have escaped the man standing above her. Acting quickly, Namyna pushed herself away from her attacker's blade, her eyes piercing into him with as much deadly hate as she could muster. "Leave him be," she snarled beneath her breath.

Nothing was ever easy, was it?

The prince's voice echoed down the hallway as Gareth's target stumbled to the ground. If he were an assassin, it would be time to flee already. These were the first pair of unwanted eyes to catch sight of him tonight, and already it was one pair too many. He could escape now before the other man got too close, but keeping his identity a secret was not the priority here. What was a priority was the girl, and fortunately for him, it seemed like she might have unwittingly revealed an achilles heel. As she bared her teeth to him, she may as well have been baring her neck at the same time. What was important was not that he get in and out unseen. The only important thing was that he was to leave with the girl. And if she cared what happened to her brother, she wouldn't leave the two men alone.

After he finished his quick analysis, Gareth placed his second hand on his sword in a fighting stance. He waited for the prince to draw closer before speaking again.

"Welcome, Prince Brelan, to our little quarrel. I'm not a man for words, so I'll keep this short. Unless you've brought your whole army with you, there's only two people walking out of this room tonight. I'll let the two of you decide who's leaving with me. Whoever's left behind gets gagged and tied to a post. Or killed, for all I care." Gareth shrugged casually. "It's up to you. But now that you're here, if you try to run... well, just don't try to run, alright? Make good life choices."

Gareth's expression might as well have been carved from marble, his gaze remained measured and fixed on the two siblings. Saying he would kill either of them... well, it was a bluff, but one that should be impossible to discern from their position. It was true, however, that he was ready to spring back into chase if either of the two attempted to flee and call for backup. This wasn't like before, he wouldn't be caught off guard again.

Brelan looked like he had been punched in the stomach when he rounded the corner, faced with the large stone-faced man looming over his sister, the man's large sword pointed in his direction. A scowl just as deadly as his sister's darkened his eyes. Glancing at Namyna to check for signs of blood, he was relieved to find none, before turning his attention back to the man. The prince inwardly cursed at himself for not finding help first, or for having his sword on hand. Stupid, stupid move.

Putting his hands outward in a disarmed stance, Brelan spoke evenly. "If you're here for us, I'll go with you," he offered. "Just leave her be."

Namyna's eyes widened with shock. Was he that dumb? He was the future king, for the Gods' sakes! She moved to stand. "Brelan--"

"Don't," her brother's voice came out icily, eyes staying locked on their assailant. "Stay. Put."

Namyna stilled, her jaw clenching. She had yet to see Brelan this way, had yet to see him face dangers as strongly as the king he was meant to be. Even so, surrender should not have been an option. She mentally noted to punch him in the jaw when given the opportunity. Still, she had little power in their current situation - if she attacked the man above her, there was a decent chance that Brelan would be placed in harm's reach. Her jaw worked again, waiting for the man's response. If he so much as touched Brelan...

Gareth took one hand off of his sword, stroking his chin in contemplation. He was glad to see that the prince did not want to engage in any pointless fights. He had no idea how competant the noble was at fighting, but unarmed and unarmored, such a thing would be a death sentence even if he was a grandmaster.

The man's fortitude and decision-making was commendable as well, Gareth had to give him that. It's true that I would probably get a fat purse for his ransom... Weighing that against what he was promised, he came to a firm conclusion. That wasn't good enough. He came for the girl, he would leave with the girl. But he couldn't just come out and say that, either. The chips were still on the table and he still held the advantage. If things were to go as cleanly as possible, he should be able to press his advantage a little further.

"I appreciate your offer, young Prince, but you should know that my initial target was the lady here. I could settle for you but..." He trailed off, leaving the end of his sentence hanging in the air.

"It's a rough world out there. I can't guarantee your safety if you come with me. And if we get mobbed by wolves, and I can't protect you, what will Afaede do without their future king? Perhaps you should consider the grand scheme a little more carefully.

"If, however, I leave with Princess Namyna, as was initially planned, my own head rests on her safety. She won't come to any serious harm, 'least before I do. I'm no politician, but if you ask me, it would be best for your kingdom if my plan goes off without a hitch, and you let me tie you up to that pillar there for the night."

As he finished speaking to Brelan, Gareth turned his head to face the Princess for what was, hopefully, the last nail in his plans. "Maybe you see reason, Princess? I don't have reason to hurt your brother if you come with me."

"And if I refuse your offer?" Brelan snarled. His fists clenched, clearly torn. He wasn't about to let this man just waltz out with his sister, no matter the threats he managed to give. Part of him hoped that the longer they kept him occupied, the better their chances of being found by any of the guards. "Who sent you for her?"

Namyna on the other hand, felt her worry and impatience growing in equal amounts. Did it matter who sent him? Fear settled in her gut, but it did little help to think of the intentions of who had sent for her if it meant sending someone heavily armed to the castle. They were without help, and running out of options. If nothing else, getting the man alone would give her additional chances for escape without fear of her brother being harmed.

"I'll go with you," Namyna suddenly blurted out, making her brother go wide-eyed.

"No, you aren't," Brelan growled, taking a sudden step forward, prepared to attack.

Damn. I was so close to getting out of this clean. Nothing is ever that easy.

Wiping his free hand wearily down his face, Gareth sighed. "Alright, kids. I'm short on time and short on patience. If you can't come to an agreement nicely, then I have to make the decision for you. Young Prince, if you think that you can keep me busy long enough for your sister to escape, you're making a mistake. But... if you insist on trying to fight me, well," he turned to Namyna before continuing, "it might do the lady well to stick around and make sure I don't do any lasting harm. Broken bones and a cracked skull is no joke, I hope you know. You probably don't believe me, but I really don't want to hurt you any more than I have to."

As his second hand returned to its place on his sword, Gareth bent his knees, ready to pursue Namyna if she tried to flee, while simultaneously preparing to deal with Brelan if he charged forward. Of course, the former was his priority, and he was confident in his size, enough to bowl the prince over if it turned out that he had to chase the princess. In this low stance, Gareth began slowly advancing forward. His goal was to separate the two siblings if possible, or at least to get within arm's reach of Namyna. If he had to incapacitate the both of them, he could, but either way, it was clear that he needed to get out sooner rather than later. If they wouldn't act, he would force their hand. And if they did act, he would react. It hardly mattered which came first.

Namyna had to think fast. She had gotten Brelan into this horrific mess, and she would be damned if she didn't get him out too. She mentally cursed her brother's innate need to protect her, instead of acting logically for the kingdom. Granted, she wasn't particularly different in that aspect, but damnit, he was supposed to be the future king! She sighed, frustrated, and stood slowly and unsteadily to her feet. Her hands gripped her gown as she glared at the assailant.

"You're not taking her," the prince snarled, and before Namyna could stop him, he lunged toward the armed man.

Gareth was anticipating the assault, and ready for it. As the prince lunged forward, he swung his the flat side of his sword around in a sweeping motion with the intent of knocking the prince down and, at worst, knocking him out or breaking bones. Like hitting a baseball with a bat, the action should send him sprawling. Gareth was not holding back when it came to the force of his swings.

"I respect your furor, man, but this won't end well for you!"

If this were one-on-one combat, Gareth wouldn't have minded handing the other man a weapon. But this was less like a duel and more like an obstacle. And he had to keep at least one eye on the prize here. While he was significantly better armed, Gareth's focus was severely handicapped. On one hand, he had to watch out for sneak attacks from Namyna - after all, he was conscious of the knives that were peppered lightly around the room - but needing to worry about that meant that he couldn't let his attention slip from anything. It was a taxing experience, when it could have been so easy. Gareth cursed his mistake and his misfortune. Should have just knocked the girl out... Don't underestimate royalty in a castle, I suppose. It was a lesson hard learned.