Viviane sighed as she tried to get control over herself the situation was over there was no more need for violence at the moment. Despite those thoughts she still gripped her dagger tightly in her hand an assassin who failed their missions was nothing more than a fly to those that may have sent her. This meant that this was nothing more than a opening act surely they did not expect the assassination to work? "A opening act worthy of ten playwrights by itself. The act opens with the failed assassination attempt on the beloved princess Quick to defend her life the fearless captain leaps to her aid pushing her away just in time." She said aloud as she twirled on her left foot causing the hem of her dress to fly by the action. "Surely no better tale could be told? A twist perhaps of events to create a starts of forbidden love? Oh the story of love and tragedy that it would entail." She continued twisting events to seem more like that of a scripted play as she headed towards the captain. Her twisting of events slipping from her tongue not done in jest or in merriment rather a way to get across her own opinion of that there was a possibility it was scripted to happen. Though she doubted anyone would understand what she was getting at it was the nature of people to assume the worst after all even she was not free of that.

The Nem assassin's eyes widened at the declaration by the little girl.

So did Fanilly's. For a few moments she didn't quite understand, after all... and then it hit her. The Assassin must be getting blackmailed with the fate of her sister in order to do this. And if word got out that she'd failed, the nem's sister would likely be killed. But claiming a member of royalty was dead... wouldn't they have to work quickly if they wanted to avoid the consequences of such a claim? Taking a deep breath, the short girl approached the tiny assassin.

"Dame Tyaethe is right," she began, "If word gets out that the assassination failed, that would mean they'd probably kill her sister. The Iron Roses defend the crown and the country, but we will not have the blood of a blackmailed girl's sister on our hands. But we'll have to work quickly, which means..."

She took another deep breath. While her words were sincere, her tone betrayed her fears and lack of confidence in such a claim. Claiming the princess was dead... the idea of doing that felt terrifying, in a way, but she couldn't doom this girl's sister. "Can you take us to where your sister is being held?"

The nem assassin was silent for a few moments. Then she raised her parchment and put the quill to the paper.

Yes.

Her hands were trembling after she wrote her message. It was clear she couldn't believe this was happening.

Fanilly nodded. Trying to calm her nerves, she took another deep breath. Work fast. They had to work fast. That would mean word wouldn't get out, either of the lie, or simply because of a rumor of the Princess's death spreading too far. Before the night was done, they had to be finished with this.

"I-Iron Roses, be ready to move out as soon as possible," the blonde said, "We-ah...?"

One of the newest knights, Viviane, was saying... what? Fanilly didn't understand, to say the least. What was all the talk about plays all about?

The nem assassin, however, did. For a few moments, her relief mixed with confusion and hesitation was overcome by anger.

How dare this girl suggest that she was intended to fail?!

---

"Ah? Er, yes, er..." the Princess took a deep breath, before nodding. Her hands were shaking. Someone really had just tried to kill her... for a few moments she realized that the knight speaking to her was one of those that had made her so very angry, and yet at this point... well, something like that seemed quite trivial.

"Please, I... I think I need a moment to relax, y-yes..."

Ian only relaxed when things seemed to calm down and it became apparent that, for the moment at least, there wasn't going to be a second attempt. He didn't believe this was the end, however, if whoever sent this Nem went through the trouble of mutilating her throat to prevent her from speaking they likely didn't have have much confidence in her success, in fact it showed that, succeeding or not, they thought there was a good chance of her getting captured which meant that there was likely another agent here that would report the result of her attempt and possibly act as a backup assassin should she fail...

...of course there was also the possibility that the little Nem is lying and this is all a ruse to get the knights away from the princess.

either way, he kept the thought to himself for the moment, turning to the others and saying "Captain Fanilly, Sir Gillan, I can see to the princess' safety. I'm sure that the party hunting these conspirators could use all the manpower they can get and the princess would feel a bit more comfortable without too many guards hovering around her" both weren't entirely untrue but Ian had a plan with this. If either of his thoughts were correct, even if he was with only one other knight, the low amount of guards might make the other assassin overconfident and they could make a mistake or, if they weren't and there is a group of conspirators, more knights would have a better chance of dealing with what they might find. Right now Ian could just hope that the fact that he was one of the only two in armor and that his Hundi senses were far better than a human's would get them to agree with him.

Marianne Delacroix

Though Marianne wasn't completely sure if the Nem would try anything at this point or not, she relaxed very slightly. "On the parchment, please write down everything you can remember. Any little detail may help us assist you in having your sister safely rescued. If you try us, do not be mistaken. The second time around, I will not be as gentle." With that, Marianne stood. Satisfied to allow matters to fall into the hands of her comrades, Marianne looked down and became painfully aware of exactly how she must look. She hadn't intended on doing so, but she had cut the skirt of her lovely dress rather short. The cut hem of which was quite a few inches too short for her tastes. Clearing her throat and as discreetly as possible, she tried to tug her dress down as much as she could. Fighting back the burn of a blush coming, she was thankful that her legs weren't completely exposed. As they were sheathed in white hosiery, namely thigh-high stockings.

Padding away from the group, she found the heels that she had kicked off when she gave chase after the assassin and slipped them back on. Looking at the slashed sleeves and skirt of her dress with a forlorn expression, she briefly wondered if she should get new replica or have this one repaired. As she looked up from the discarded cloth, she noticed a guard with a neat and impressive mustache issuing orders to the others as they rounded up the nobles to potentially escort them to a safer location. Her memory returning to her, her eyebrows came together as her eyes glared daggers at the person she assumed to be the palace's guard captain. With a flick of her wrist, she collapsed her concealable-sword and returned it to its home on her thigh. Affixing the blade to her garter as she stormed over to the mustached-man, her electrical aura returning with a passion alongside her fury. Her heels clacking rapidly and loudly as they echoed throughout the hall.

"You! Are the guard captain of this palace!?"

She shouted with an accusatory tone, her voice again booming louder than seemed possible for her size.
One of her hands balled to a fist, the other stabbing a pointed finger at the man as she neared.

The blue haired woman breathed in relief, so slightly, as the princess didn't seem to adamant in bringing the old spat. At least for now. She weighted her dagger in her hand, as she thoughtfully oversaw the situation.

A poor Nem mute woman, without a voicebox, claiming to do it for the sake of her sister? This seemed more out of a tale than actual event happening before their eyes, and yet not many doubted the act of the assasin.

But something inside Sult's mind was screaming. She looks like bait. A failed assasination, a way to right one's wrongs... and a chance to help the weak. Just like the wounded old man Fanilly rushed to earlier. I don't like this, one bit.

But she had to watch for the princess. Sult grippped her dagger tightly. Under the glove, her knuckles went white. She wanted to scream that this seemed a bait to a trap, but she doubted people would listen to her.

After all, she was a tricky individual, the princess hated her, and her otherwise loathsome twin brother was around. She thus resigned to her fate and followed the princess as bodyguard.

Meanwhile, Nero, even if he was surprised or otherwise affected by the sudden rebuttal of the Silvern lady, he did show no signs of it, instead he removed his hand from her shoulder carefully, as he whispered.

"Well played."

He then turned around, and with a couple of strides, defied the patriarch's gaze set upon him, as he took his offending hand and performed a slight polite curtsy as salute. "The Marquis of Silvern is a common topic among my father and his fellow Dukes, but I have never had the pleasure to meet him in person." Truth to be told, he had heard him only once or twice in such conversations, but given his appareance and demeanor he seemed a proud, domineering person who sneered on others. Catering to his ego might work.

"Well met. Please forgive the crass behaviour of this fourth son of a Duke, but I couldn't help myself in front of such grace and beauty. You truly have a marvellous daughter, sire."

It was then when something else caught his attention. Yelling, instructions, and knights rampant. The nobles were being evacuated.

"I would love to chat a little more... but circumstances." He added, eyes trailing towards the assasin and the princess.

He then started walked the iron knights, Tyaethe in particular.

"Naive." Nero raised his voice, shaking his disapproval."Very naive of you, oh Holy One. How can you ask the entire party to perform and feign like if they were a masterful trope of mummers? Would you even be able to feign your own emotions, if your outbursts are a sign to go by? Not to mention my lovely cousin Dame Delacroix over there who's bent on starting a fight with that risque fashioned attire of hers!"

He pondered. "Just bar the doors, and don't let anyone go out. Confusion needs not to be feigned. And I'm pretty sure there is enough food and wine for wounded pride."

His eyes then trailed towards the finicky commander of the Iron Roses. Living legend or not, she seemed more like a lost child. "One thing is true, time is of essence. Therefore, just this once, and because the party is in your honor..."

Nero knelt before Fanilly slighty, as he bent his head. "My sword and my men are for this night, yours to command."

@Iceheart@Raineh Daze@VitaVitaAR@harinezumikouken

Wonderful, even Fanilly was now referring to her with that absurd appellation. It was Sir Tyaethe, yet everyone seemed so intent on referring to her by a title that hadn't even existed when she had been knighted. Though with her discovery tonight, even that wasn't the proper form of address any more.

Meanwhile... yet another idiot with something to prove was starting an argument. This was the exact reason she had been so against coming out of armour in the first place: people began forgetting all about her abilities and experience. Just because she looked so young, everyone seemed to think that she must also be this young. Fortunately, this idiot wasn't a knight and it was unlikely that Fanilly would mind too much if she brought him into line.

And so it was that a small hand clamped itself on Nero's shoulder and forcefully dragged the young man's eyes down to meet hers. If the sword hadn't clued the braggart in, the tug definitely would: she was stronger than her body had any right to be.

"You, sir, are an idiot. The entire reason for keeping the princess's survival a secret is so that the conspirators do not learn that the assassination failed. Sealing the room for long would tell them that their assassin is compromised and destroy the one chance we have of apprehending whoever is behind this. Furthermore, this room lacks the amenities necessary to house anyone and we have no idea how long this will take. Spreading a single falsehood is no elaborate charade and if it must be kept up for long, then only those accomplished in misdirection need take more complicated steps."

"I would also refrain from critiquing the attire of others when you chose to have the most ostentatiously miserable armour made and considered bringing it to a ball without full repairs. At least others, even if they do not understand fashion, would understand the purpose of ceremonial outfits."

With that, the white-haired knight released him with a 'light' push to get him back upright. It wasn't her problem if Nero fell over onto his arse and made a fool of himself.

Taken away from her attempt to decipher Viviane's unusual declaration(and noticing the nem was still glaring at her), Fanilly's attention returned to dog-eared knight. He could defend the Princess by himself, or with only one another knight to assist? Only two knights seemed like a low number, and yet... perhaps it made sense to keep the numbers so restricted. After all, they may very well need as many knights as they could muster in order to take on whoever it was who had orchestrated the assassination.

"I... see, but... I suppose if it's..." Fanilly trailed off for a moment. "... If the Princess is willing to take such a small guard, then I suppose it is her decision."

As for the talk between Tyaethe and Nero, well, what did it truly come to? Nobility confined to a single room... if it was too long, that could be quite simply dangerous. But what if someone let something slip? Ah, this wasn't a clear choice to the Knight-Captain. Tyaethe's rather rough response... ah, in such a stressful situation, she had to admit a little girl tugging and shoving a grown man in armor like that was, well... The girl covered her mouth to try and hide that she found it funny, then took a deep breath.

"I'm not sure if we can simply keep everyone in this room, but I'm glad to have your assistance, regardless," Fanilly said, simply. More knights meant they would be able to be finished with this more quickly, didn't it?

The Nem assassin finally tore her angry gaze away from Viviane to begin writing once more, in response to Marianne's questioning. She wrote quickly. She had to, if they were going to act they had to do it as soon as possible in order to save her sister. This was, now, her only hope.

Soon enough, she held the parchment up.

They're holding Kyphi under the Mausoleum with the large eight-pointed star on top of it. They have twenty-five soldiers and six men running the operation. They haven't let me see her but I can here her breathing whenever I'm there, she's in the lowest chamber. Three of the six men can use magic, I haven't seen all their abilities but one of them brought an animated skeleton.

Anyone with knowledge of such things would recognize just where that that symbol meant. For some reason, the conspirators had chosen the Cal family's grave as the site of their plotting. While Phoran Cal would be a publicly reviled name for a long time to come, his ancestors had done nothing wrong, and so it still stood. His body was not, however, permitted to be interred there. Even his still-living relatives refused to allow it.

It was unlikely those still-living relatives knew what was going on down there. They hadn't lived in Aimlenn for several years now.

Meanwhile, the guard captain turned to face Marianne, as his guards dealt with the nobles. He folded his arms, disapproving of her tone.

"Hmph, what is it?"

He had nothing but respect for the Iron Roses, but he also enjoyed being treated with respect. This was not sounding very respectful.

Christina dropped her shield with an audible sigh, staggering half a step as the pressure of the spell dropped off her shoulders.
"I cannot move while maintaining the barrier," She explained, taking a place at the Princess's side. She scanned the crowd intensely as she watched for any hint of another attack, determined that nobody else would get anywhere near the Princess as long as she still breathed. She spared a half glance toward Fanilly as she did, making sure the captain was safe as well.

"If we're to move, it should be quickly, preferably somewhere with metal in the door. I'll feel better once you're behind a barrier again."

Marianne Delacroix

Seeing the guard captain crossing his arms and address her in such an informal way was enough to amplify her ire ten-fold. Her electrical aura surging along with her heightened emotional state that as she neared, the same hand that pointed a sharp finger at the mustached man opened wide as she viciously swiped her palm across the man's face with a resounding SLAP!. The force of which was empowered by her electrical mana, making the action sting and hurt just that much more. A small part of Marianne's mind worried when her open-palm slap of the man drew the attention of the other guards and nobles, but his crimes were far too serious and egregious to ignore. To go unpunished and unaddressed would be madness. Right now, Marianne was more focused on embarrassing the man and to chew his ass out. And chew him out she would. Only the Princess herself, Captain Fanily, and the Holy Immortal wherever she was, could reign her in and stop her.

"How dare you!"
She was inches away from his own face, her's quickly reddening as her blood pressure rose.
"You will uncross your arms when speaking to one of higher station and rank than yourself!"
Even if Marianne was shorter, she somehow appeared to tower over the guard as she placed her fists on her hips.
"You will stand at attention and you will address a lady by 'ma'am' or 'miss'!"
Now that she got that out of the way..
"What were you and your guards doing at this event to allow such an attempt on the Princess' life!?"
With each rise in her voice, her mana surged more and more. She dared the guard captain talk back to her and do anything other than speak in the affirmative. She challenged him to by her body language.
"Were you checking and screening the guests!?"
Her aura loudly crackled and snapped, kissing and biting at the mustached guard captain as they stung him.
"Were your guards roaming the grounds properly as they should have to keep eyes on matters?!"
Her hair of course levitated and floated in the air behind her, again only adding to her intimidating stance.
"Had we, the Iron Roses, not been here what would have happened then? On whose head would the executioner's axe fall for such a potential disaster? For such a failure had the Princess sustained a wound or even worse?!"
She and most everyone else should already know the answer to that.
"YOURS!"
Her voice boomed especially loud, to punctuate the message she was trying to get across with emphasis.
"Thank the Goddesses that the Iron Roses were present and took action swiftly to prevent injury and loss of life!"
Her eyes were locked on to the guard captain's as she focused on him, giving him her full attention as she blasted him.
"If it were up to me, if you were a Knight of the Delacroix, I would have you stripped of your position and rank for your obvious display of incompetence!"
Marianne stamped her heel as for the next minute or so she spewed a string of profanities in her native tongue in the guard captain's face. Veiling her nastier words and curses with her foreign language.
"What excuses do you have to say for yourself? Whatever it is, save it as you would be wasting your breath and our time. Leave our presence as you disgrace us all by merely standing here! Complete the tasks you were assigned if you could manage that and begone with you!"
Pointing a sharp finger in his face, she finished with one last line.
"Remember this for future reference and do better next time. For if you do not, there will not BE a 'next time'. Fix yourself, sir! And your men!"

Tiral watched in silence as the rest of the knights took action, moving off to apprehend the culprit as the barrier went up. The 'arrest', though, ended a lot less chaotically than he had expected; after all, with the assassin having just given up and collapsed on the floor... Well, there wasn't any particular reason to knock out the panicking nobles anymore, now was there?

The ice mage's expression turned to one of mild disapproval as the context of the situation came to light... Or so it seemed. Though the possibility of blackmail and coercion was there, the instant conclusion that the other knights seemed to jump to (namely, the innocence of the assassin herself) wasn't anything that he came to. He'd refrain from making any concrete objections for the moment, at least, but until everything came to light, he would at least remain wary. That was the plan, at least.

"Ah... Well, seems like my research will have to wait..." he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "An attempt on the princess' life, a mission to try and smoke out the culprits in the making, and guard duty for whoever's left... There seem to be a lot more important things now, aren't there?"

Musing to himself a few more moments, Tiral realized that he was still in the company of the Court Mage and bowed his head.

"My apologies for that; I have a tendency to verbalize my thoughts on occasion. In any case... I'd assume you'll be having a little bit more to do in just a short while, what with the incident just now and all that. Though... Having some more knowledge on wards and the like might be appreciated for the coming battle. If it isn't too much of a hassle, may I borrow any notes on anti-magic wards and the like? Though I would prefer a more in-depth study, time seems to be of the essence as of right now..."

Sir Garrett stood watching the interrogation. It was funny really they were all playing at trying to get information from the girl. Threats were so meaningless. Only actions mattered. As they extricate the information about the sister Sir Garrett snorted. clever.

With that Sir Garrett backed off the group of Iron Rose Knights. Frankly he wasn't needed anymore with the end of the whole charade. Intelligently they had decided to proclaim the Princess dead. A small number of Knights would go with her. Not this Knight taking a seat from one of the tables on the edge of the ballroom. Flipping the seat around he settled his weight on it facing the back off the chair as he watched the end of the drama unfold.

Dame Marianne left the group and started walking towards the captain of the guard. She really does have incredible legs Garrett allowed himself the small Leer as she approached the Captain what happened next made him raise his eyebrows in surprise. She really is a spit fire. I think I'm in love.

As Marianne continued to get more and more angry her aura threw sparks. No way am I getting in the middle of that. He’d caught her nervous fidgeting with the bottom edge of her dress. Taking off his long coat he folded it over the back of the chair continuing to watch the reaming from a safe distance; clear admiration in his eyes as she got louder and more shocking.

Settling in Sir Garrett let his eyes wander keeping a close eye on lingering nobles and others who were not Knights. This had all seemed so. Convenient.

The loud Crack of Marianne'scurried hand brought him back aND he chuckled to himself. Damn she has an arm. I didn't know Thaln had women like this.

@harinezumikouken

“Sure. Take as much as you need.” Gillian says, noting the shaking. For a brief moment, his arm feels like it was being trampled by a boar….again. He rubs it as Ian makes his suggestion. It wasnt a terrible plan, were he honest, but it was short sighted. Christina was largely immobile, it seemed, while protecting the princess. And if an assassin had managed to slip through the entire royal guard, he'd want as many eyes on the prime target as possible. “I Uh…never was much one for fired up vengeance seeking my friend.” He says, gently stretching.

He watches as Marianne begins her explosion, making note not to make an enemy of her anytime soon. The woman’s vocabulary of vulgar phrases was as expansive as she was dangerous. “And at any rate…” he begins, astounded as the dark haired woman rapid fired curses. “Dear lord…” He whispers, understanding maybe a third of them. “At any rate, there seems to be enough stoked flames without me adding to it. Moreover, we’re looking for an assassin in a city. I’m more of a ‘band of orcs in dense forest’ sort of hunter.” He nods towards Christina, “And with Chris providing the barrier for her highness, there would really only be one free guard. I appreciate your offer, but I think it best we stick together.”

As Nero gave his response back to Theodore, the big noble could not help but give a chuckle as he appealed to him. The man had both appealed to him and to his daughter while slipping in his station in life. The son of a Duke was certainly not a bad person to have on one's side after all. As he watched him go Theodore could not help but think that perhaps in the future there was something they could work out, but at the moment there were other things to take care of.

"Humph, well I can assure everything pleasant the Silvern family will not say anything on this matter until it is settled by the knights." Theodore took one last good look around and then gathered his two sons together with him. "As this is now a matter for the Iron Rose Knights it is time we depart."

Theodore gave a nod to his sons, who nodded in return and gave a bow to the knights present. "We will now take our leave, may the Goddess Mayon guide you in your pursuit of the culprits." They stood back up and then started to leave, their father soon following behind them.

As they left Theodore could be heard saying, "How many times do I have to tell who don't talk at the same time! You're not twins for goodness sake!" Before long the only Silvern left was Julianna.

Julianna was glad Nero had went his own way for now, considering the present situation it was best not to be distracted from what could still be a danger to the princess's life. While Marianne dealt with the guard captain in a rather amusing manner what was more important was the culprit's information. While the assassin herself was effectively taken care of there was still a group out there who planned harm and had taken over quite the interesting location. As a member of one of a family that had done direct combat with that rebel, it seemed rather ironic that the Cal Family Mausoleum was where they were holding up.

"That such filth would be holded up there of all places, seems rather too coincidental." They had certainly chosen that place for a reason, if they were actually there. Julianna could not help but think that perhaps this was the actual trap; however, the plan fact of the matter was they needed to go there and try to stop this plot. Also the assassin had not actually seen her sister according to the message and had only heard her breathing, meaning they actually had no idea who was in that chamber, maybe it was all a ploy. Even if things turned awry however, certainly they needed to go there and quickly if they wanted to settle the matter before the lie of the princess's untrue demise could blow up in their faces.

"We had best decide our course of action as quickly as possible, as we no doubt have a very short time frame in which to conclude this matter." Julianna said her piece and took a look around to see if she missed anything. Well the Nero take down had been amusing at any rate, also if she was not mistaken...

Yep, Sir Garett was rather enjoying a certain bit of live entertainment. She considering bringing Marianne's attention to his little peeks but such small amusement would have to wait, the Iron Rose Knights had a princess to protect and maybe even a person to save, if the assassin's report was accurate anyway.

Martina's hands twitched, balling into fists before loosening. This was... These men, these vile sorcerers...

It was a well known fact that there were many things that dwarfs disliked, such as forests, sailing, elves, weak booze, shoddy workmanship, elves, laziness and elves. Well known, of course, because the dwarfs would take any opportunity to grumble about anything that caught their ire. But there were three things they despised above all else, and whilst Martina couldn't be sure if they had crossed the ultimate dwarf taboo, the breaking of an oath, their cowardice and the fact that they dabbled in dark magic was more than enough for her. Her breathing was heavy as she placed a hand on Fanilly's shoulder...

"Captain..." she uttered monotonously, her tone oddly calm despite all that was happening. "I request permission to change into something more... Suitable for this situation." Finally she could get rid of this ridiculous dress and wear something more appropriate. After all, any dwarf worth their salt felt underdressed if they weren't wearing at least a chainmail shirt and thick, steel-toed boots. And her hammer... She needed her hammer. Tonight, those vile practitioners of necromancy and their associates would be her anvil.

Tyaethe seemed about as calm as she'd been all evening after pushing Nero away. That is, the small paladin was frustrated and uncomfortable but seemed to have subdued all her urges to rip out the throats of her fellow party-goers for one reason or another. Then she focused on the Nem's latest missive and seemed to come to a total halt. Anyone with eyes could tell that something was obviously aggravating Tyaethe; barely controlled mana was manifesting in a luminescent green glow.

Then the train of thought that had stalled the white-haired paladin reached the end of the line and she moved into action once more, seizing her nameless blade from its point embedded in the floor. Shaking from barely-repressed frustration, Tyaethe took a step towards Fanilly once more. "Captain... into a tomb... even their tomb, they bring a necromancer. This peddler of abominations must die! Orders or no, they will be dead before the moon sets.

"Yet, even though I am a Paladin of Mayon, I am not equipped for such a fight," the girl admitted, each word delivered like a tooth pulled, "And support for a first assault would help."

The Cal family tombs weren't far from here and it was a trivial journey to make. It brought one of the few intrinsic clashes between her roles as a knight in service of the realm and a paladin of Mayon in question; had Tyaethe simply been operating on her original vows, she already would have set off--and even if assistance was denied, she wasn't going to wait around for everyone else to get ready.

Any opinion Fanilly could have shared on the proposed courses of action was quite delayed, when she saw Marianne slap the guard captain. Swiftly, she broke away and went right for her.

"D-Dame Marianne!" she called. While... perhaps the guards had not been conducting themselves well in this case, that did not mean this was the time to take up such an action. The guard captain himself looked stunned for a few moments, unsure of how to react after having been slapped in the face. "Whatever they may have done wrong, now isn't the time!"

Doing the first thing that came to mind, she reached out and grasped the older girl's wrist... and winced in pain as she felt an electrical shock travel up her arm. She flinched, and her grip loosened. The older girl was so angry that her body was pouring off mana in the form of her favored attack spell... but still...

"W-we have to focus, Dame Marianne..." Fanilly insisted, as firmly as she could. In spite of the tingling sensation up and down her arm, she tried her hardest to bear it. She didn't want to show that something like that had hurt. She couldn't. "Iron Rose Knights, if you need to prepare do it as quickly as possible. We'll be destroying these conspirators tonight, as soon as we can. Those who desire to can stay behind to guard the Princess."

"W-we... checked every guest," the guard captain said, staring down at his feet in humiliation.

The assassin was writing again.

I don't care what you do with me. Please save Kyphi. I'll accept any punishment you want, please save her.

The assassin's hands were shaking. Her handwriting reflected this, shaky and muddled. Tears were in her large, crimson eyes once more.

Fanilly wasn't certain how to respond. The Nem had attempted to kill the Princess, and yet it appeared to be due to blackmail... Blackmail by a group that including a creator of abominations. Any believer of the two Goddesses knew that a Necromancer was an enemy of life, that the raising of the dead to be used as mindless slaves was an abomination. Oh, in the past there had been truly repentant former practitioners of necromancy, but those were few and far between.

But the punishment of the diminutive assassin was something the young blonde couldn't begin to think of. Should she even be punished, given the circumstances of her attempt on the Princess's life...?

"... Before... before any of that," Fanilly began, shaking her head to focus her thoughts, "How did you get in here?"

After a moment's pause, the Nem wiped away her tears and wrote again.

Breathing while Walking.

Fanilly stared in blank incomprehension. Wasn't that something... everyone did?

Anyone more well-versed in the culture and habits of Nem, however, would recognize this. Breathing while Walking was the name of a specific stealth tactic devised by the desert dwelling race. In a land with low amounts of cover, a specific method of breathing and moving one's body had been created to effectively erase the presence of the practitioner. In entering the party, the assassin had become effectively invisible until the hat-wearing figure had specifically drawn attention to her presence from the corner of Fanilly's eye.

---

"... Let's... let's go up to my room," the Princess said, finally, looking away from the ongoing interrogation. She was still scared. She felt her heart hammering in her chest. No-one had ever made an attempt on her life before. Never once had she been in danger of dying. To put it simply Eliabelle was deeply shaken by the experience. And so, returning to her quarters, somewhere she could relax, was all she could think of at the moment.

"They're upstairs. Please, let's hurry, I... I need to take a moment," she continued, looking plaintively at the Iron Roses who had volunteered to guard her as she started towards the back of the room.

---

The barrier, no longer needing to be maintained, collapsed. Court Mage Bethany Ravenwood lowered her staff. In the rapid casting of the barrier spell, she hadn't even broken a sweat. Instead, she turned to face Tiral.

"Borrow whatever notes you like," she said, her tone short and to the point, somewhat jarring with the nervous, shy image she had projected before, "I must make sure the her highness is safe. I have to. My notes are in the desk in the large room to the right of the entrance hall."

With that, the mage turned and hurried(as fast as she could, she was hardly the athletic sort) to accompany the knights and the Princess.

Marianne Delacroix

Marianne immediately regretted her decision to act the way she had when she turned her head to see her dearest Captain come toward her. Her regrets didn't come from what she had said and the way she had said it, oh no. She meant every word and hoped her cuffing of the guard captain got her message across effectively. No, her regrets came to her when the Captain had thought to reach for her wrist and grabbed it. Getting an unfriendly shock treatment from her uncontrolled mana. Softly gasping, Marianne turned away from the guard. Ignoring him for a moment, Marianne's electric aura instantly dissipated as her mood had changed and she swiftly moved towards the little Captain and taking her hand into her own. With an apologetic expression and sorrow filled eyes, Marianne pressed her lips to Fanily's hand in a quick kiss. Then pressing the little Captain's hand to her chest, the apologies flowed from her lips. While at the same time, she willed her mana to return to her to alleviate the little Captain's pain. To Marianne in her own mind, she had just inadvertently committed a crime. Having nothing but the utmost respect for her fellow Iron Roses, especially those in higher leadership positions. She would never think to raise a hand or cause harm to any of them. So for her to have caused pain to her very own Captain was a truly embarrassing and mortifying experience.

"Je suis vraiment désolée... veuillez m'excuser! Je suis sincerement désolée! Je suis navrée! Je vous prie d'accepter mes excuses! Je vous prie de bien vouloir m'excuser!"
Came the rapid-fire string of apologies and pleas.
"I did not mean to hurt you, dear Captain. You are right. We need to focus. I have acted out of line. Now is not the time to address such matters."
Letting go of Fanily's hand, she looked herself over as she concentrated.

To go back to their headquarters to change into more appropriate equipment may waste too much time. Time that was precious. Though she was hardly...decent by her own standards, she could make do. After all, she would be lighter and more mobile without her battle dress and armor. The only trade off being that it was far more dangerous for her if she were to sustain an attack. Simply don't get hit, and she'll be fine. Right? Not to mention that her concealable-sword wasn't her typical standard arms. Its blade was far shorter and more stout, not exactly suited to her style of combat. Marianne was conflicted. Part of her said to take action as soon as possible, to go as she was. A second part of her deemed it more prudent and wise to take a little time to prepare, to think things through. What should she do.

"Captain Fanily, if we need to take action now I can go as I am. But if you would rather us be more prepared, I can go and change. What say you, Captain?"

She would leave the decision up to her Captain and uphold whatever she chose.
On the subject of the Nem assassin, however..

"As far as the assassin is concerned, Captain Fanily...Even if she speaks the truth and we are successful, she must still be held accountable and responsible for her actions. Blackmailed and coerced into an assassination attempt or not, she still took arms against the Princess and that fact cannot be ignored. At the very least, she may be imprisoned. Possibly worse if the Crown becomes involved. Might I suggest that we transport her as a prisoner of war to the Delacroix? There, she will be treated with a little more leniency once informed of her situation. Though she will be possibly indentured as a servant as her punishment."

If word got out to other unsavory characters, what message would that send to the underworld of criminals? That you could make an attempt on the Princess' life but if you had a good sob story, you could be excused from punishment if you failed? No, that could not be allowed to happen. The Nem assassin had to pay the price of justice.

Ian gave Gillian a strange look. 'vengeance seeking'? he was hardly even fired up about the whole thing, in fact he's been largely unphased by the event. He shook his head slightly and put the matter from his mind, it wasn't something to dwell on.

Instead he followed as the princess began heading back to her room. She was, understandably, shaken by the attempt on her life and Ian wanted to make it a bit easier for her to calm down. Matching her stride he put a hand on her shoulder "Is there anything you would like Princess? something to drink? to eat?" His demeanor remained casual and he gave her a reassuring smile, silently offering to be a companion for the evening rather than just a stiff guard.

(ooc sorry if it is lacking i am using the cell)
Nero grimaced as he felt the strength of Tyaethe forcefully making his body move around. Luckily, he had been trained enough as to turn the sudden shove in a mere stagger, rather than an embarrassing fall.

The strength of a bear, and the wits and short fuse of one. He thought sadly, as he adjusted his cloak. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to do a couple of parting shots.

"My point still stands. You and your electric coleague have a bad habit of solving discussions with force. As for the armor, i wear these chinks in pride for they are my homage to my fallen foes. Wearing a ceremonial armor would be denying the fact i fought and ended their existence."

The Raven captain shook his head, as he watched more events unfold. He clapped his hands thrice, as the other raven knights who had been invited to the party. Two burly tall men, almost as tall as Sir Garret, with square chins, shaved heads, flat noses and small squinty eyes approached, clad in simple but elegant dresses followed by a blonde, blue eyed,slim and well endowed yet equally tall woman whose dress could only be described as pink murder with a stupid expression in her face.

"Like, Nero capn, we siblings heard you, and stuff!" said the woman in an almost childlike voice.

"Where's the old man?" Nero frowned. "Nevermind. Okay, listen, Bobd, Bobd and Mariah. We are to obey captain Fanilly for the rest of the night!"

"My name is Bõbd" Said one of the big guys, while the woman was positively beaming.

"Does that mean that i will finally be, like, an Iron Rose. Will i get a cute widdly armor and stuff? Because you know the one i have kind of, like, makes me fat and..."

It was then when one of the Bobds decided wisely to dopeslap the chatterbox. Nero just...sighed.

It was then when a voice came from behind Fanilly and Marianne. "Mmm, doubtful you can handle a Nem, Breathing while Walking is quite tricky to see through. Not to mention i think it is up to the princess how we handle her."

Nero blinked twice. There he was, the old man, dressed in a black and white two-piece, crouching beside all of them, having used the confusion to sneak in. He was twirling his generous white moustache, matching his white hair, and while his face betrayed his lack of youth, his body looked that of half his age.

And he was there, squatting, talking directly to Marianne's butt. "Nice Delacroix Derriere, by the way."

"Rinaldo, focus " Nero said with difficulty.

"Yeah, yeah... Crypt, some people who can do necromancer, little sister baitfishing. Sounds like the Barrow Men situation. But hey, wasn't you know, your twin sister trained as priest, you know the one with a butt as fine as this?"

Nero could not resist facepalming.

"I can see the family resemblance between cousins..." The old man continued his tirade.

---

Sult, meanwhile had resigned to her fate, not trying to talk much in the princess presence. Her mind was focused however in finding assasins at each shadow and suspicious corner.

Out of all people i had to be assigned, why her and why now?? I suppose this is the price of so much playing around. She added as she bit her lip.

Sult had never been this fidgetty.
@harinezumikouken@VitaVitaAR

Fortunately for Nero's continued wellbeing, the paladin had stopped paying attention to him; Tyaethe had no time for irrelevant brats with something to prove when there was a necromancer on the loose. Even better for his safety was the dimming of the green glow as Fanilly confirmed that the knights would be mobilising imminently--still slow for her tastes but, it seemed, too many of them had foolishly come to the ball without bringing the arms needed should their services be required.

This had the plus side of giving her a chance to signal to one of the servants and request a change of clothes--probably a page's attire, given her size--in order to protect her old dress from being dirtied in the inevitable fighting. Tyaethe was under no illusions that, whilst others might ask for their armour, her plate would be far too time-consuming to put on in comparison to more measured armour. She could do without and, as a result, would have to leave the shield behind.

The sword might have been manageable with her strength and experience, the simple fact that the shield was over a foot and a half too long couldn't be avoided.

Since the issue with the nem's punishment had come up and the princess seemed in no state to mete out the punishment as was her right, Tyaethe felt inclined to suggest something that would both provide a measure of justice and postpone the final decision on the import of such coercion: "If she managed to get in here, we should take her with us. If her words are sincere, then we'll have a scout and easy infiltration. If she's not..."