Christina was left in a cloud of confusion, the sudden series of odd events a little too much for her to process all at once. Unable to properly make a decision, the girl grabbed onto the last order she had been given. Keep an eye on the Princess. So she once again pushed her way through the crowd, slightly more urgent this time, until she reached the center where she could see the Heir Apparent herself. Consequently, this also meant she was close enough to hear the 'report' given.

Having not been at the battle herself, she had no idea what had really happened, but she felt her mood darken at the comment about people acting 'outside their rank.' It seemed even in the Iron Rose, there were those who held titles over actions, a mindset that had no place in battle. Instead of dwelling on it, Christina refocused herself on the princess. She had been told to keep guard on her, and reasoned that anybody who knew things she hadn't been told and made cakes disappear was probably her better. Her mother had always told her obey her betters.

"What I meant is that the captain's actions placed nobody in an unnecessary risk not of their own making. Sir Marianne is fortunate that she escaped punishment after that spell. Had Knight's Doom avoided the spell, then the positioning would have lead it to strike our own men, even the captain. Sir Eadwig's decision to proceed mounted after the order was given to dismount put others at risk because of the simple footing. The captain's orders lent themselves to no unnecessary risk." Tyaethe countered, willing to explain to the other knight what she meant. Though he did remind her of Marianne's stupid choice, someone would have to teach her appropriate time to use that sort of magic...

Then Julianna had to saunter over and give an intentionally biased report. This could not stand; she would gladly die a second time before allowing that sort of self-absorbed thought any influence over the knights. "All the training in the world doesn't seem to have taught you the basic purpose of the Knights of the Iron Rose. We protect Thaln, its people, and the High Priestess. We do not leave those we were sent to protect to die to protect our own hides."

The white-haired paladin turned to the princess for a second, "Fortunately, the farmer in question has made a recovery with no cost to ourselves, nor did the enemy receive word of our coming before we began our attack."

"There was no second ambush. There was a threat to the captain's flank and the Three Hundred-Man Slayer used her protecting the knights under her command as an opportunity. An ambush does not consist of then challenging someone to single combat because you want to prove a point. However, whilst you would simply have betrayed our purpose in the first instance, in the second you suggest allowing the enemy to attack us unmolested because there is an unlikely risk of retribution.

"Training is insufficient. Training without experience, put in charge of the knights, is worse. We are superior to any other unit in existence. We have fought dragons with our numbers and no support. Normal tactics and the precaution exercised for such small groups get more of us killed than they save, whilst failing in our basic duties to shield others wherever we can. An inexperienced captain is good, as she comes untainted with such ideas.

"You are a child with no experience calling on the wisdom of books and tutors that do not know what the knights can do. Your report is born from arrogance and guesswork. Until you have served in a full campaign and understand what your teachers tried to impart and how we differ, hold your tongue."

Though she seemed quite calm, especially with the growing hush from her rebuttal, the disturbingly crumpled flagon in her hand spoke of something completely different. It was only compounded by not being able to ask the princess the question that she had wanted to ask, nor explain the height difference... not that it was too important at this moment to explain that.

The pure amount of ludicrousness that rolled off Tyaethe's tongue was absolutely astounding. She thrashed at Julianna with logic the consistency of swiss cheese and was no doubt quite angry, a very good outcome to say the least. Julianna suppressed a smile and countered. "My my quite heated aren't we. Who ever said anything about leaving people to die? If I am not mistaken it was my own efforts that ultimately saved that farmer's life. In any event while certainly a valiant effort, and certainly any knight in our order would gladly give up their life to protect the innocent; however, if we charge blindly every time there could easily be a less fortunate outcome, what then would become of the knights who gladly give their lives in the defense of the kingdom and her majesty?"

Julianna took a few steps back away as if in a attempt to distance the conversation. "Forgive this display your highness, it is most disagreeable. All I meant to say was there is much room for improvement, though I must say a second ambush, or perhaps I should say entrapment, did most certainly happen. Flaming tree trunks do not fall down by themselves in an attempt to isolate the commander from the rest of her forces. It seems age has perhaps caught up to you, but enough. This is a time of celebration is it not? Let us hark on semantics no longer and enjoy the rest of the night."

Theodore nodded from the side line in approval. Julianna was trying to 'make peace' for the rest of the night which was something most nobles would certainly be behind. The die had been cast so there was no need for further argument, such things could wait until after but at least not everyone knew both sides of the story. Theodore was a little discontent though, he had to admit that Julianna did indeed go a little too far and probably should have retreated sooner. Well that just meant a little more work for his men behind the scenes.

Still, the fact that that little undead would dare put into question his daughter's sense of responsibility to the people had his blood boiling. Thankfully his wife was there to keep him calm so he managed to keep his emotions in check and not assault the little twerp there and then. The undead was making enough of a spectacle of herself as it was, there was no need to stoop to her level.

Gillian could not believe his ears as Juliana walked away from the insanity. She might let this display go uncommented, but he would not. “You think to lecture others on the purpose of our order?” Gillian asks, glaring daggers at the undead knight, all sense of the party now lost to the growing agitation in his gut. “How is it then that you, the oldest of our order, spend much of your time hiding in Candaeln? Standing sentinel over a blade that hasn’t been wielded in the name of protecting another in a golems age!” He resists the urge to spit, continuing. “Sentimental tripe! If your words were anything more than air, you’d not waste your time acting as a glorified museum feature. I’ve ventured to most every corner of Thaln, and hunted its enemies in forests that entitled features, for I hesitate to call you a member, of our order like yourself are ‘too good’ to dirty their boots in.”

He takes a deep breath, and for a moment feels the gaze of the growing crowd to the argument, incensed by the accusation that the young Silvern would leave civilians to die. “And, I find it a joke that you’d suggest training without experience as a fault of Sir Silvern.” He says, firmly. “After all, for all her potential, Danbalion has all the experience, if not less so, than even our greenest squire. And yet she is trusted with our lives. By your own admission, an idea which is foolish at its core. And you are quick to excempt her of this, held aloft as she is by some archaic tradition that has long out lived its purpose. Though, perhaps its easy to dismiss the wisdom of good tactics, when you yourself are at far less risk of the consequences. I to would be more inclined to fight dragons with such bravado were I neigh incapable of death. I will come to respect her title as my captain when she has earned such reverence.”

He leans down to Tyaethe’s level, the years of pious nonsense of the orders more conservative members manifesting as a challenging glare of contempt. “You speak of arrogance and guesswork as the failing in the report. But I am not alone in thinking the contrary. Nor, Do I think, am I alone in thinking that, despite your age, you are 400 years too young to be calling anyone a child.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Gillian knew that at this point, the disturbance they were causing had to be sizable. Damn the consequences, he would not allowed Tyaethe to belittle a comrades devotion or insult his years of training and hard work. Especially not one who clung to the past so tightly.

With Julianna's departure Sir Garrett frowned. “That woman has less morals than an adder. And that might be insulting the adder.” Given the look of things near the Princess Sir Garrett gave Marianne a very gentle guiding tug. “Come on, let's see if maybe we can disperse some of the anger rolling off them. No doubt the Princess hardly appreciates it.” Giving Marianne a sheepish smile. “I'm sorry if it seems like I hid things from you. We can talk later, it's only fair that I give an explanation.”

Closing in on the heated group of Knights Sir Garrett pricked up his ears straining for some sort of clue as to why they appeared ready to have it out right in front of the princess. Straining he caught a good portion of her rant. With a grim look Sir Garrett gently lifted Marianne arm from his.

“Please excuse me for leaving a lovely lady such as yourself unattended Dame Marianne. I think perhaps Count Thorn is needed right now. Excuse me for just a moment?”

Sweeping back his coat the big man cut a polite path through the nobles. There wasn't really an option left to them as the six, six giant of a man passed through them with ease. Approaching the group of Knights all but openly arguing in front of the Princess.

Placing his hand on Tyaetha’s shoulder Sir Garrett looked down at the undead knight. Complete recognition in his eyes as well as chastisement. “Dame Tyaetha, I beg your pardon and I hate to cut off your audience with the Princess, but could I have a moment with the Princess? Perhaps you could go and retrieve our honored Captain for her well deserved audience.”

Turning to face the Princess Sir Garrett’s whole demeanour had changed. Gone was the man who stood half way between worlds. One foot in the Savage hills of Velt and the other in the geaves of a Knight. Standing tall and proud, the Savage nobility of his people radiating from him Sir Garrett’s presence dismissing the other two present. With a bow at the waist he pressed his right hand to his chest.

“Princess Eliabelle. On behalf of Jarl Orrin of Clan Skildren I bring greetings from my esteemed father. I am Count Valdoth Thorn, Sword of Clan Skildren. It is a pleasure to meet you. You may call me Sir Garrett, I took a new name when I came to Thaln. It has been easier for me to fit in with a new name and a position as a Knight. I must say the last few years here have been a string of new and wonderful experiences. The least of which has been meeting you, if you will excuse the blatant flattery. You have an incredible Kingdom and your people are so different than those who live in the Hills of Velt.”

Politely Sir Garrett folded his hands behind his back and gave his full attention to the Princess. The other Knights needed to cool off. Tyaetha most of all; she was being played like a fiddle by Julianna and she couldn't even tell. It was like watching a three ring circus. Clearly this is what politics are like in Thaln. Detestable. It took all of Sir Garrett’s composure and focus in order to prevent himself from losing the cultured veneer. The training he received before he left home could only last him so long.

@ghastlyInc@IceHeart@Raineh Daze

Tyaethe's first instinct was vitriolic retaliation--along with a detailed run-down of all the flaws in the junior knights' supposedly logical response--followed closely by challenging them to a contest of some sort to prove that they could back up their insults with words. Even more closely linked was the desire to simply draw her sword and engage Gillian on the spot, proper action be damned. Instead she turned to the first thing at hand: draining her second flagon and trying to remember the lessons that so many people had failed to drill into her head.

If she was letting her temper get the better of her, than the optimal solution would have been to walk away. That was neatly sorted but she was still the focus of irrelevant tension so... small talk? That was good. That was safe and not likely to trigger even more justified cause for solving things on the field of battle.

"Have you tried the lime marmalade?" she asked, feeling Garret's hand on her shoulder... fetching Fanilly was the perfect idea. Though not in the way he intended, rude as it was to just ignore his attempted audience. Instead she took full advantage of her childlike appearance to get away with grasping the Princess's hand and dragging her towards the captain. "It was rather tricky to make."

Though returning to her original spot did bring her first question to mind...

"Why was I introduced as a duchess?"

Marianne Delacroix

Marianne had to cover her mouth to fight back a laugh at Sir Garrett's adder comment. A very creative insult, though she thought that was hardly in good taste referring to Dame Julianna's character like that. Of course, any growing amusement faded away when she let out the quietest squeak when the man hugged her a little closer and moved her. Not that she was much to have to move, but it was how with such ease she was moved. She knew Sir Garrett was strong, but to experience it first hand herself was a little...Odd feeling. She couldn't quite place her finger on exactly what it was that she felt however. Thankfully, upon Sir Garrett's mention of a little scene playing out in front of the Princess, Marianne then turned her attention to frown in confusion at the Iron Roses that had gathered before her. Relieved for the distraction, though her relief was short lived. As the two of them came within earshot of the lovely debate her fellow comrades were having, Marianne hardly noticed the passing compliment Sir Garrett paid her as he left her to stand there with a dazed expression.

Were her ears deceiving her? Was this truly happening before her very eyes? From what Marianne could gather the Iron Roses were arguing and bickering like little children in front of the Princess about their most recent mission! Everyone was deserved their own opinion, to be sure. But, was this the proper time and place? Sure, such an event invited such discussions and politics but there was a certain manner in which everything was to be conducted. To vocally dispute this way or that way in front of the public? She couldn't believe it! How did they think this all appeared to the surrounding nobles? To the crown? Were they mindful of the blatant disrespect to the Princess and of her gracious event that she was holding in their honor? Of how it made the Iron Roses appear? Regardless of their blood, station, and who they were as individuals as a whole the Iron Roses fell under Captain Fanilly's responsibility of command. They were representative of who she was as a Captain and the Iron Roses and yet for them to conduct themselves in such an unfavorable light? Marianne could not stand for it. She would not. But she, herself, could not act out of hand.

Jaw setting as she gritted her teeth, Marianne's hands tightly balled into fists as her face twisted into a terrifying scowl. Her eyes burning as she glared at each of her fellow Iron Rose Knights. "Stay calm, Marianne. Stay calm. Relax..." Marianne shut her eyes as she practiced inhaling and exhaling slowly and deeply. Unable to completely maintain her composure in the face of such insolence, her mana began to fissure and leak from her body. Manifesting yet again as errant sparks and crackles of electrical energy as her hair began to float, levitating from her power. Two voices clashed in her mind. One that raged so severely that Marianne's body shook violently. The other voice being of reason and willing herself to not cause a scene.

"Impertinent!"
Breathe in.
"Audacious!"
Breathe out.
"Impudent!"
The surrounding nobles wisely distanced themselves from her, noticing her displeasure, for their own safety.
Marianne's nostrils flared as she grew red in the face.
"How dare them!"
She thought to reprimand them all on the spot and silence them, to then apologize profusely to the honored Princess on their behalf.

But, this time the voice of reason won out. Thinking of Captain Fanily, it would not do her nor the Iron Roses any good with another disruptive outburst. Instead, she would have to do damage control after the fact. Have a word with Dame Julianna, Sir Gillian, and whomever that little girl was later. Privately. With a deep exhale, she shut her eyes. Placing a hand to her brow, Marianne turned her back to the scene and excused herself. Her head hurting and body still crackling erratically with electricity, she needed fresh air and made for the nearest exit.

"... Th-that's jut the kinds of things I meant!" Bethany said, desperately, in response to Tiral's questioning. Was she not getting herself across better? Ahh, this was a bad idea, wasn't it... no, no, she had to focus and try and thing through. She was trying to be helpful, after all. She took a deep breath to try and calm herself down, exhaling heavily as she did, then inhaling once more. Calm down. Relax. Just reply.

"I-I have both. Guilder's modified scrying spell is p-perfect for the latter," she responded, "This is exactly what I mean, th-though! What you n-need is to build your spell l-library, so you can contribute in b-battle both in the front lines and in back. Y-you're above average in terms of magil, so y-you shouldn't be tiring easily."

There. That was... helpful, wasn't it?

---

As the argument escalated, the Princess's mood soured further and further. These were the Noble Iron Rose Knights, and yet here... not only were they speaking so ill of their captain, but they also showed no faith in their tradition. Certainly, Fanilly was inexperienced, but... wasn't Saint Elionne no older then sixteen, as well? Eliabelle herself was merely sixteen! This lack of faith almost felt like a personal insult. And then to mount an attack on the Immortal Knight herself... to say the least, the Princess had gone from cheerful to furious in a rather short span of time.

By the time another of the knights, one who was a foreign nobleman as well, approached and introduced himself, she was in no mood to talk.

"I'm sorry, Count Thorn," she began, her voice wavering but level as she turned to look away from the knights, "But I'm no longer in a mood to talk. The faithlessness of petulant children in knight's armor has thoroughly soured my mo-ah?!"

Eliabelle felt a hand wrap around her wrist and begin pulling her away. Immediately, she looked to see who it was, and was surprised to see the confusingly-diminutive form of the Immortal Knight tugging her along through the crowds.

"M... Marmalade? Ah, I haven't... eaten yet, er..." Eliabelle stumbled over herself, her anger cooling slightly as she was taken off-guard. Why she was introduced as a knight...?"

"Ah, er, you are, as I understand," she added, still rather off-center from her sudden abduction, "You... are a Duchess? I know you ascended to the position..."

She trailed off for a few moments...

---

Fanilly couldn't help but laugh a little to herself when she saw Tyaethe's reaction to Martina's comment. The smallish blonde probably wouldn't have acted so... physically, but that didn't stop her from finding it amusing. It helped cool the stress that she was reluctant to admit had been mounting slightly. She simply wasn't used to such large events, even as a noble girl. It didn't help that, moments later, there was quite a commotion from the direction Tyaethe had gone. Was there an argument? The Knight-Captain couldn't make out what was being said. Moments before she went to investigate, however, Tyaethe reappeared... dragging the Princess with her?

Fanilly looked on in shock as the taller girl came to a halt.

"P-Princess Eliabelle!" she said, abruptly, unprepared. She wasn't particularly composed or ready to speak with the Princess, but, well... there she was. "Your Highness, ah, this party has been splendid!"

And yet, the Princess seemed... flustered? Almost irritated...

"... I... I'm glad to hear that, Knight-Captain, and very happy to meet you at last," the Princess said, after taking a deep breath, "I'm pleased that you've been enjoying yourself, though I can't say the night has gone well any longer."

"... Ah? Your highness? What do you mean...?" Fanilly asked. Was this something to do with all that commotion...?

Before Eliabelle responded, Fanilly caught something out of the corner of her eye. It was... a pointed travelling hat? A long, bobbing staff? For a moment, the girl swore she saw the shape of a little girl... but as she turned to look entirely, she was gone.

What she did see was quite different.

A small, diminutive figure seemed to appear from no-where. She was female, by appearances, hooded and clad in a shirt and jacket, with leather armor on her arms and legs. She was incredibly short, and what could be glimpsed of her face was extremely pale skin, a bit of black hair hanging down beneath the hood, and crimson eyes.

The most important fact, however, was the small hand crossbow being leveled at the Princess.

Fanilly's eyes widened, and she did the first thing that came to mind.

"GET DOWN!"

She threw herself forward. Grabbing the surprised girl, she threw her to the ground, and felt a rush of air as the crossbow fired, and a bolt hurtled past them. It buried itself in the back wall.

Fanilly's head snapped up immediately, and she saw those crimson eyes widen.

"ASSASSIN!" the blonde girl cried, drawing her sword and leaping up to her feet, above a stunned and bewildered Eliabelle, "Iron Roses, to arms! Stop her!"

The small figure spun immediately and darted into the rapidly-clearing crowds. She was making for the exit...! How was it she hadn't been seen before?!

Christina leaped forward as the bolt struck the wall. Silently cursing her inattentiveness, she was at her captain's side in an instant among the screaming crowd. She drew her dagger, a primarily defensive weapon suited for her. "Captain, I can guard the princess. The assassin may be running toward backup." Taking a defensive stance, she had already started whispering the Barrier spell under her breath.

Normally when she cast this spell, she used something metal as an anchor, but her shield was back at the Headquarters and the princess wasn't wearing any armor. Instead, Christina put more effort into the spell, willing it to settle into a dome around her and the princess. Only a slight shimmer in the air indicated that anything had happened, but the spell's effectiveness was confirmed when a nobleman ran full tilt into it, bouncing off and creating a ripple through the dome. Sweat beaded the knight's face as the spell drew more effort than it ever had before, but still she stood ready to fight anybody who made it inside her perimeter.

She'd ascended to the highest echelon of nobility? When? More importantly, how had she managed to achieve that and not even get notified of the change? Though maybe she had... it wasn't entirely impossible that she'd missed a written missive and paid no attention to a courier sent to explain it in person. If it was inheritance related, it could just be that nobody had thought to actually tell her and assumed that like all members of the nobility, large or small, Tyaethe cared about inheritance.

This was all rendered totally irrelevant.

Someone had tried to kill the princess. Someone had dared to attempt an assassination on the watch of the Iron Roses. Fanilly's order passed overhead, with the paladin's goal already set in stone: immobilise the criminal and search them if they happened to die. With anger still burning away, this seemed like a far more acceptable vent for her frustrations...

Tyaethe reflexively drew her blade, focusing on the diminutive assassin, and launched herself with disproportionate force. She clearly wasn't operating on mere physical limits, as no child could swing the sword easily... let alone somersault through the air for a devastating but blatant attempt to bisect their enemy. At range.

"Oi!" It was the only response she could give Tyaethe, really, as the only knight even smaller than Martina immediately made a beeline towards the princess and began yelling really loud about the captain. Humans were such hypocrites, weren't they? After all, when Martina yelled the captain's praises that loud all she got was "quieten down, Martina" and "you're making a scene, Martina" and "my butt isn't really that big, Martina, stop talking about it please seriously".

Not especially wanting to fight with the undead knight, however, she merely quaffed back another ale. She'd lost count of how much she'd drank, really; for a dwarf, any question along the lines of "are you drunk?" was inevitably answered with three words: "I'm a dwarf".

Some of the other knights had started an argument, but thankfully Martina was too far away to hear. Dwarfs took tradition seriously, after all, and, well... She would've just started cracking heads together if she'd heard what was going on. Still, it seemed to upset the princess, who had been dragged off by Tyaethe and was mumbling something about marmalade as they passed her and Fanilly. But before she could make another off-colour remark...

"...ASSASSIN!" yelled the half-dwarf, louder and deeper than Fanilly could manage, her voice rumbling throughout the ballroom even as she ripped the hem of her dress (why was it so frilly? She looked like a bloody elf in this ugly thing!) and nodded to the captain, before immediately giving chase. The captain could take care of the princess, after all, but... But something as cowardly as an assassination attempt could not be forgiven. The would-be killer would have to answer to justice, and she was going to ensure it even if she had to beat an explanation out of them personally.

Martina screamed out... Something rather gutteral sounding in dwarfish as she lunged towards the assassin. Despite her small frame, she was half-dwarf, and underneath that nightmare of frills she was wearing lay a hard and compact series of muscle. To put it lightly, she was quite a bit stronger than her height implied, and with this muscle behind her she proceeded to try and tackle the assassin to the ground...

Julianna was a bit sad that the whole charade had dampened the Princess's mood. She was the first to admit that perhaps she had gone too far in stirring the pot. She was young, just two years older than the princess and Fanilly after all so she still had some of her brash nature. Not the best outcome but it had to be done, though she was unsure if her father totally approved.

All the machinations and planning were brought to an abrupt halt however when the assassin lurked her pale head. A bolt was shot but thanks to the quick reflexes of the young captain the princess was spared and amazingly no one in the crowd was impaled. Talk about being in the right place at the right time, but there was no time for such thought, she needed to search for the assassin. First though, she needed to lighten her load.

As a member of the Iron Rose Knights one had to be ready to defend her majesty at any time but a gown was not exactly combat gear, at least it shouldn't have been however the dress was specially made. Unlike a lot of other dresses there was little to no hampering of her natural movement and adjustments were made so the hem could be hiked up at a moment's notice to avoid any potential tripping. Doing just that Julianna burst into action as of course, the crowd started to panic and flee.

Not everyone was in a panic of course. Theodore watched while clenching his cane tightly. "An assassin in the royal court itself!? What were the guards doing? My love, please make your way to safety, I'll join in the hunt for this cur." With a quick peck on her forehead he nudged her along to join the fleeing nobles.

"Now then," Theodore cracked his shoulders, took the the top of his cane, gave it a twist and out from the wood was a thin, concealed sword. "Time to finally get a decent work out." Theodore gave a hand motion in the air which instantly summoned his two sons, of 20 and 22. Like their father they were well built though slimming in general than their hulking old man. They quickly stepped in behind Theodore as he started to march after the assassin.

Julianna had a bit of a hard time seeing the assassin because of the milling guests but soon she saw the tell tale signs of a sword seeking a target. The immortal was after the assassin at full steam, which meant that was certainly not the way to go in order to catch the assassin. Julianna made her way toward the assassin's most likely exit, hopefully the knights pursuit would make the assassin have to take something other than a straight route to avoid being caught and then she would be there to take her down, if the guests didn't impede her too much anyway.

Taking a concealed dagger from under her dress, a small and quick weapon that unfortunately made her feel a bit naked, she plowed through, trying to force her way ahead of the assassin, if she managed to get out the search would get a lot more complicated.

Marianne Delacroix

With a sigh, Marianne had just started to calm down almost having left the palace. But, at that moment things took an immediate 180 turn for the worst. Marianne stopped in her tracks when she heard two voices screaming that an assassin had just made an attempt at someone's life and she whirled on the spot, assuming the worst. Just as the assassin in question had sprinted past, Marianne laid eyes on Fanily atop the Princess herself and thanked the Goddesses that they were at least alright. Turning to face the fleeing assassin's back, Marianne kicked off her heels and hiked up her skirt to remove the hidden concealable-sword her dearest brother John had created. She would have to thank him at a later day and time. As she moved, Marianne flicked the mechanism that revealed the blade and locked it into place. With a few swift slashes and the sound of ripping cloth, Marianne cut the bulk of her sleeves and skirt off to increase her mobility. It was just a dress after all. A material possession that could easily be replaced.

Exploding into a sprint after the assassin, she took off with break-neck speed. Compared to the rest of the Iron Roses she lacked in many comparable areas, but if there was one area she specialized in. It was speed and agility. Not bearing the weight of her regular armor and equipment, she was possibly at her fastest even barefoot. Now with a target to channel her agitation on, her electrical field surged back to life. Practically a white blur, as if she were a vengeful spirit chasing after own killer. Her moniker of 'Lightning Princess' was two-fold, when one thought of it. The first part was obvious for her affinity of lightning-based magic. The second part was her fleet-footedness, her forte. Raising her sword arm, she could hear the roars of that loud-mouthed little girl who had molested Captain Fanily and the other little girl with the infuriatingly familiar sword behind her, though they were not as close as Marianne was. Bearing down hard on the assassin, refusing to allow them out of her sight, she gave chase getting closer and closer. As soon as she was within range, Marianne would swipe at their legs and heels to cut tendon and ground the assailant. Once taken to the ground ,Marianne intended on throwing her body on them to grab at their throat and treat them to a debilitating electrocution.

Such a bold attempt should be dealt with swiftly, but Marianne had no intention to kill and shed blood just yet.
Information was paramount at the time being.
Marianne realized that she could very well be rushing straight into a trap, but she accepted those consequences.
This could not go unpunished.

Hearing the call of assassin stopped Viviane in her tracks from chasing down a certain fleeing herald. Spotting her target she rushed forward pulling a small dagger out as she quickly started to chase the one who tried to kill the princess. How dare this no name good for nothing speck of insignificant piece of flesh stop her. This was starting to piss her off first the herald started to run from her when she was asking about where her announcement was than this little piece of filth tries to kill the princess THE FREAKING PRINCESS! Anger over the events slightly clouding her mind she continued her chase while not as fast as some she would exact quick and merciless vengeance upon the the person. "COME BACK YOU INGRATE OF A ASSASSIN COME BACK HERE AND TAKE YOUR PUNISHMENT!" She Viviane screamed out as she gripped her dagger tighter as she continued her chase not noticing her knocking over some girls that was frozen in shock.

"hmm, oh yes, I had seen the dwarven city. It was-" Ian leapt up when someone had shouted assassin and a call to arms from the captain, whirling around to see that most of the other knights where swarming after what must have been the assassin. Throwing back an apology to the girls he'd been talking to he took off toward the princess and the Captain, barely noticing the barrier put up by Christina and stopping himself just short of ramming into it.

He nodded at them and, since most of the knights were already chasing after the assassin, kept close just outside the barrier with the intent of helping guard the princess. His eyes still looked after the group chasing the assassin and his ears stood on alert, pointing in different direction to try and pick out the sound of the assassin or another crossbow preparing to fire. His stance had him ready to leap in any direction should he detect something or need to help the other knights.

As knights approached to defend her, Christina even supplying a barrier, Fanilly reached down with her free hand and took Princess Eliabelle's hand, pulling her to her feet. The Princess's eyes were wide with shock. Not only had someone tried to kill her, but someone had tried to kill her in a crowded party, seemingly without being noticed up until the very moment it happened. Fanilly internally feared she wouldn't have noticed if not for the image of the strange hat-wearing figure that had appeared moments before the assassination attempt. But this wasn't the time to dwell on that.

"What... who tried..." Eliabelle mumbled, trying to recover from the shock of an attempt having been made on her life.

"We don't know yet, your Highness," replied Fanilly, "But you're safe in here. It'll be difficult for anyone else to get through a barrier like this."

At least, Fanilly hoped so. Magic wasn't her strongsuit, but it looked sturdy. Especially after one of the panicking nobles had bounced off of it.

"Dame Christina, Sir Ian," she began, "Do you see anything else suspicious? If there's another assassin they'll probably try to act while everyone else is distracted."

"How did she get in...?" the Princess asked, taking a deep breath, "... W-well... at least the legendary Iron Roses were here."

The last note was a clear attempt to cheer herself up, at least.

---

The assassin heard the air rushing behind her and darted immediately to the side. She glanced back only briefly in time to see a long, sharp blade slam down on the ground where she had occupied. So they were trying to kill her...? Well, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, really. She'd failed. She didn't understand how someone had seen her before she'd done it, but the fact was she'd failed. The barrier she had glimpsed glistening around the Princess made it impossible to make another attempt...

The screaming girl hurled herself at her moments later, in a bid to tackle her. The attack was so wild it was almost difficult to react to, but she managed to sidestep, feeling the girl's hands just barely miss grasping her heel. Damn it. Most of the knights were likely faster then her, due to the simple fact they were larger... then again, it didn't really matter if she escaped, did it? She'd already failed.

Once again, an attack brought her out of her thoughts. A swiping blow towards her ankle? It was a hard target, given how much larger the attacker was, but the Assassin still knew it was a threat. She didn't have time to draw a weapon and deflect it... so she spun and put her hand in the way.

Now it was apparent, however, she was not simply sacrificing her hand to spare her leg. Her glove was studded with thick steel, allowing her to deflect some weapons with her hand. It was enough to stop this one, at the very least. The assassin's crimson eyes locked on her attacker, glaring, before she attempted to break away again.

Of course, this slowed down her escape attempt quite a bit...

Damn it, the girl had avoided the attack and now there were too many knights around to attack effectively without risking friendly fire on top of this already being a crowded party. But she was so close and distracted. The dwarf probably had the right idea for dealing with the assassin in this environment but since she was so short, it would be difficult for anyone to get a grip on her...

She was smaller even than Tyaethe herself but the difference was far slighter--child compared to a somewhat younger child. This meant she could get a grip without diving to the ground like the others were attempting. All told, Tyaethe probably had the best chance of getting a grip.

The paladin dropped her sword, trusting that nobody would be stupid enough to try and steal the blade from her in plain view of royalty, and copied Martina's tactics in trying to bearhug the assassin. Hopefully, Marianne wouldn't get her with that knife; the dress was an old present.

"Guilder's modified scrying spell, huh...? That one actually didn't enter my thoughts when I was examining my resources last night," Tiral responded, nodding his head thoughtfully. "I'll have to see if I can't access a copy from--"

The young mage's response was cut off abruptly as the sound of an arrow whizzing by and lodging itself somewhere in the crowded hall, to which he responded with a hurried glance around the area. While a few of the Iron Roses (who had apparently been bickering until a few moments ago, if their earlier shouting was anything to go by) immediately sprung into action, Tiral was left attempting to identify who the hell the would-be assassin was. With the cries of panicked nobles becoming increasingly louder, Tiral took a deep breath and turned towards the Court mage, a solemn look on his face.

"This might be a bit sudden, but can you cast any mass-sleep spells on the nobles? They might end up getting caught in the crossfire if they keep running around like headless chickens, after all. I'll block off the windows, but since I have nowhere near your level of prowess, I'll have to request you handle the main entrances. This is all I can do without putting anyone else at risk; my apologies."

Before he could allow a response, Tiral deftly tossed his dagger into the air and caught it by the hilt as he began to chant. Improvised chanting was always something of a strong suit for him, at least... Hopefully that sort of thing wouldn't screw up this time.

"O goddess Mayon, under thine own divine vigil:
Let not our enemies escape, nor may they enter. Defend our bodies and souls from eternal sleep, to which we may continue to serve.
For the nation of our kin, and of our kin's kin;
Seal off this land, and remain until that danger has been warded off!"

With a frown, Tiral glanced at the windows at he pointed at each in succession with his dagger, quickly covering each with a thick layer of ice. A thin layer of mist could be seen emanating from it all, alluding to how cold the material was at this given moment.

At the very least, the assassin probably wouldn't be able to dive out of a window if it came down to it. Frost like that wasn't something people broke through all that easily...

Julianna managed to push her way through the crowd and find her way to the door the assassin was no doubt attempting to flee out of. Julianna could not help but think of other ways the assassin could escape, such as the windows but there was no way she could effectively block such things. It appeared that Sir Tiral already had that covered though as the beautiful glasswork was frosted over, which quickly thickened into ice sheets, so at least they wouldn't have to worry about that anymore.

It appeared that she had gotten there just in time, the knights that were charging after the assassin had forced her to deal with them, slowing her progress toward the exit. Julianna hadn't got a good look at the assassin before but, man that was one small assassin! Stopping such a tiny combatant would be a lot easier if she had a shield to bash her head in but a shield would have been too cumbersome and out of place in a dress. Now, she only had a small dagger with which to defend herself and stop the chibi killer, well she also had her body if it came down to that though that was risky against someone who was a hitman.

She could see her father and brothers headed her way as well but it looked like they wouldn't arrive until the assassin was on top of her. The knights were chasing the assassin but she was the only one between the assassin and escape right now. Gripping the dagger tightly, Julianna make sure to lower her body so she could easily react to the assassin.

"Goddess Mayon, guide my hand and my body in the defense of your people. Give me the courage and strength to defend those I have been charged to protect and deliver retribution to my enemies. Make me your vessel to accomplish your will." Julianna recited the prayer to herself as she prepared to stop the assassin. Her amber eyes locked onto her enemy with extreme focus as she chanted, her eyes appeared to glow in the light as she appealed to the goddess for strength.

Julianna prepared to block the assassin with everything she had, as long as she could prevent the killer from getting around her it would be the Iron Rose Knights victory. She made she she was ready to move into the assassin's path however she attempted to escape.

Gillian held his glare until Sir Garret placed himself between him and the undead knight. As the barbarian talked to the undead, his glare turned on the barbarian, still hot with rage before cooling slightly. It made sense, after all. Gillian had no rank and over step his bounds, so of course HE’D be the one to be pushed out, if only to preserve what little social graces remained. He turned on the trio, fury still burning in him.

Were he speaking truthfully, he’d have loved for the exchange to come to blows. His reputation would have been destroyed, but he had far less standing to lose than that arrogant red eyed chibi. And atleast then he’d have had the pleasure of getting a few good licks in on the conceited knight. “Thinking out of their rank..” He grumbles, heading to a small bar, taking up a heavy drink. “Brat. Were the saint herself still with us, I’d pray she’d have to good sense to put you to the sword for such casual disregard for your comrade’s lives.” He grumbles, ignoring the stares (some of annoyance, some surprisingly in admiration.)

As he drank he’d realized he’d have to apologize to the captain, an act he’d not look forward to. Tyaethe’s flippancy aside, he’d given his word to attempt to behave. ”That is decidedly a failure…” he thinks, throwing another swig back, counting the moments before he’d excuse himself for the evening. Course, if her undead groupie was any indication, the captain would be equally livid that he’d not taken to lying for her the sake of her valor. He rolls his eyes, regretting the evaluation he’d given Klien and then the Princess before turning away from the bar and heading back towards the group. He should have never taken on Klien’s off-
“ASSASSIN! Iron Roses, to arms! Stop her!” He hears shouted above the din of the crowd. The world around him seems to explode, nobles panicking and rushing past Gillian like a stampede. Furniture and nobles alike toppled in the chaos, and Gillian only barely managed to see a few knights charging after what seemed to be a child. He draws his sword, anger now forgotten and replaced with worry. Wolves rarely hunted alone, same went for the kind of low life who’d take assassination as a profession. He pushes his way through the crowd back towards Fanlily and company. He looks visibly relieved as he spots the young captain, unharmed, hovering dutifully by the princess.

He rushes to the side of the young hundi Ian, something strange nagging at the back of his mind. The timing of the attack was…uncomfortably perfect. Their expedition had not been out of the capital for long, and they’d only returned a day ago. But this was no rush job, the stealth of it all was too perfect to be done on short notice. He continues to scan the crowd, the reek of a set up hanging in the air. “Your highness…” He begins only just audible above the crowd, “You mentioned that you were the one brought the attacks by the bandit king to the attention of your father. From whom did you learn that from?” He asks, praying that it was simply paranoia on his part. But something stank in the state of Thaln,...well, more so than usual.