She really did feel as if she were on top of the world. She wanted every ball and banquet to go this way if it meant she got to show off for the crowd and kiss Aulfr all in one night. She'd learned that she liked a bit of a show. Living rough, where any measure of her true skill might give her away, she wasn't able to push herself or really show what she was worth. She liked the competitive nature of politics, especially now that she knew she was probably one of the best warriors on the continent.

She was surprised when Aulfr decided to kiss her in front of everyone, and wondered if this might just be another spectacle for the crowd. But no. She'd seen the look in his eye and recognized it the way no one else would have. He was stunned, and he was happy. Maybe even proud of her. And he'd had to kiss her, she bet. The urge was too great. And she happily reciprocated. She didn't reach up and touch him, but she leaned into him enough that it was noticeable to anyone watching that the prince and the assassin were more than just working partners putting on a show.

She pulled away first and wiped some of her blood from where it had dripped onto his cheek. Everything was a bit hazy now, both from the alcohol and from her injuries. She wasn't losing a lot of blood, but she looked pale. She was determined to stay at Aulfr's side the rest of the evening. She'd just have to forgo any more dancing or other such excitement.

She turned and ordered a servant to retrieve her daggers from where she'd dropped them outside the doors. She didn't even know if she was allowed to order servants around, but the fear of angering her did the trick. They were in her hands within a minute. She turned back to Aulfr and murmured, "I'll take my place at a table nearby so the nobility can come speak to me as they please. Keep cavorting." Then, trailing a hand across one of his broad shoulders, she sat down at the nearest table and started to wipe the blood from her daggers with one of the fancy cloth napkins sitting there.

Her legs were mostly bare now, showcasing the tattoos on both of them. Creeping vines on one leg, roaring flames on the other. The blood on them was starting to dry. Sitting there as she was, surrounded by beauty and expensive things, even wearing a lovely but ruined dress herself, she presented a striking picture. The harsh and ugly world of death mixed with the arrogant and entitled air she was exuding made her look as if she belonged in both worlds. Savage and beautiful. Cultured and deadly.