The ale mug struck the ranger squarely in the face. He yelped and collapsed on a barstool. Another ranger stood a little ways off, one foot back, his hand on the hilt of his blade. He lunged forward and sliced from the sheath.

Hearing the screams, the Princess cowered in the bed, clutching Solomon's staff. [i]He doesn't have a weapon! He'll be killed! Should I go down there and give it to him? No, it's too unsafe. If they see me, they'll kill me. But they'll be sure to kill us both if Solomon doesn't have his weapon! I'm going down there. And where is that draft coming from?[/i] She clawed at the hairs getting in her eye and turned to locate the source of the draft.

There in the window knelt a black-robed girl with vibrant red hair. Amalthea didn't even have time to shriek as the ranger forced a damp cloth over her mouth and shoved a dagger in her heart. "My apologies, your highness," the ranger muttered as she gently let the princess to the floor. "Your boyfriend's next. You should have helped him when you had the chance - you could have turned the tide."

Fairmont raced through the hall and down the stairs to find her men struggling for dominance against a wounded courier. She flipped the dagger in her hand and sighed. [i]Here lies yet another future I must destroy with my own hand. Lady Grey, this had better be worth it.[/i] With that, she perched on the railing and aimed her leap.