Despite the wash of clear silvery light that spilled from the face of the full moon, the night air hung muggy and warm, punctuated with the chirping of many nightly insects. Within the royal chambers of the King and Queen of the kingdom of Lethvia, the Lady Ismari stirred restlessly beneath the covers within the four poster bed, an almost silent sigh passing through her lips as she stared at the canopy overhead and listened to the gently rumbling snores of the King laying close by. She often found herself coping with troubles sleeping, So it was not surprising in the least when she came to the conclusion that sleep would continue to be an elusive companion until she had had the opportunity to relax more fully. Which meant only one thing: a walk in her private garden.

Quietly as she could manage, the young woman slid out from between the sheets and rose from the downy mattress, fingers reaching instantly for a dressing gown she kept hanging from a peg nearby for just such an occasion. Stepping into a pair of silk slippers, Queen Ismari gathered her golden tresses back into a loose ponytail that trailed down one of her shoulders before she quietly slipped through The door in the bedroom, slowly closing it behind her, and headed towards a pair of rose colored glass doors that faced out onto the immaculate palace gardens awash in moonlight. Almost as soon as she stepped out into the close night air, a soft smile of contentment spread across her lips as her gaze swept around the flowers and bushes, Immediately lingering on some of her favorites. Gathering her robe close to her body, the queen began to move among the carefully tended flora on silent slippered feet, her fingers trailing over the petals of blossoms, the leaves of The foliage.

She never saw the figure that slowly stepped up behind her.

The shadow reached out with both arms carefully, the left hand glinting with the reflection of the moon's light off a blade they gripped in a gloved hand. As the queen bent over a blooming rose to sniff at its distinctive fragrance, the stranger closed strong fingers tightly around her mouth and chin, the blade of the knife sliding across her exposed throat, The skin parting easily and spilling Crimson over her neck and chest, droplets falling among the rosebush. The queen gave a small jerk of surprise at the contact, fingers flying fruitlessly to scrabble at the hand clutching her face, a muffled scream managing to escape. But her useless struggles quickly began to slow, Her body growing limp, and the black garbed figure quietly released their hold and allowed the dying woman to crumple to the ground, not making a sound as they watched her choking and writhing limply at their feet. As she finally grew still, eyes glazing over, the figure’s hold on the knife was released, dropping the blood spattered weapon onto the ground near the corpse of the queen. Without a word, the assassin turned away from the quickly cooling body, slipping back into the shadows and disappearing back into the night once more.

They found her body after several hours had passed, dawn light beginning to touch the world as the sun rose over the mountains. One of the palace gardeners, a diligent man who always appeared first thing in the morning to attend the queen's favorite plants, discovered the body soon after he began trimming the rosebushes, immediately sending up the alarm. Guardsmen swiftly gathered to investigate, the king notified, and the investigations commenced. But after one of the Younger recruits inspected the bloody knife that had been discovered by the body, instant recognition blossomed across his face and a look of true terror lit his eyes. It was shortly after this that the pounding on the captain's door began...

Despite the fact that she had the morning off, the second in command overseeing dawn rotations, force of a long formed habit had driven Edith Vandilla, Captain of the Queen’s personal guard, from the warmth of her bed. She had dressed in a simple pair of breaches and tunic, done her chestnut colored hair back into a long braid that traced her spine, and had just finished tugging on her boots when the hammering started on her chamber door.

“What is going on?” Edith muttered to herself as she finished lacing up her boots quickly and hurried into the front room of her chambers.

She had hardly made her way halfway across the room when the door was slammed with such an outward force, that the wood splintered around the handle and lock, forcing the door open to slam against the wall. Edith’s entire body froze with shock for a split second before she instinctively reached for the sword at her belt that wasn’t there. Head whipping around to locate her scabbard, she froze once more as a dozen armor clad soldiers hurried forward into the room, quickly spreading out before her. Blue eyes sweeping over the figures, Edith was surprised to note that, Though the majority of the soldiers were of the palace guard, four were clad in the gold and white armor of her own Queen’s guard. What’s more, her second in command was present, though he ought to be overseeing other duties. Their eyes met and there was nothing friendly in the look on the other‘s face.

“What is the meaning of this?“ Edith demanded in a steely voice that, though not raised, caused the other queens guard to shift uncomfortably.

Her second, Lionel Millgrant, was the one to answer her question, stepping forward. “Traitor to the Palace and her throne, we have come to arrest you for the murder of her highness Queen Ismarie Nandier. As Proof of your Heynis crimes, your own ceremonial dagger was discovered near her body.“

Edith felt as if the world were slipping out from beneath her feet, her head spinning. Her queen was dead? She had failed? Falling numbly to her knees, the Captain barely registered any further words, her head buzzing with questions and shock. She didn’t fight the restraints placed upon her wrists nor the guiding hands clamped tight on her upper arms. She found she couldn’t answer any questions posed to her, though the interrogation seemed to go on For endless hours, and was eventually locked away in a cell beneath the palace, left alone with a musty cot and her wild thoughts.

’I have failed.‘

Artyom had never been one for Royalty, reasoning always alluded him when people defended their various Kings and queens 'I rule cause my parent ruled or some decree said so...better men and women have died in service of these rulers' he thought grimly as he walked through the market. Like most in his trade, very few people if any noticed him. Artyom was a cuthroat, a spy, assassin and rouge that worked for whoever had the most coin to give. Slowly Artyom weaved through the crowds of people, his bright green eyes scanned the people as they passed by him. The town was alive with gossip, some saying the queen was dead, that her captain of the guard was to blame. Artyom smiled slightly at the fact 'Seems someone took the contract' several days prior Artyom was approached by a young woman approached him one night while he drank at the 'last stop' with a contract.
"The queen must die and the knife left...in return my employer is willing to pay you more then you could ever use in two life times." She said as she put a dagger on the table.
He had turned down the job, the woman had given him a bad feeling, besides he knew the owner of the dagger, not personally but by reputation. The guard captain was an honour bound woman, he knew the sting of being a scape goat... He knew she didn't deserve what awaited her. He had to help her, if not for the fact he hated powerful people using others for their own goals.

For a long time, Edith simply stood in her cell, back to the heavy iron bars, silent tears running down her face. Eventually, after the tears had stopped, she slowly and stiffly stepped forward, collapsing into a seated position onto the wooden cot that had been pushed up against one wall. She looked miserably around at her surroundings with swollen eyes before her gaze drifted to the solitary sliver of a window that she was allowed. No more than 2 inches tall and a dozen inches wide, she could barely make out little more than a small slice of the sky and the cluster of weeds growing close to the building, but it at least gave her a sense of time. Slow and torturous it might be, but it was still time.

When the sunlight started slanting across the sky from The west and the colors started changing to orange, the first real activity since that morning occurred. A guard appeared outside of Edith’s cell, a tray held in his hands. His face was livid. streaked with red as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Edith met his glare with one of her own. He snorted at her look of defiance before shoving the tray of food through a slot at the bottom of the door. But not before he spat in it first. Then he turned on his heel and marched away, not uttering a single word the entire time. Edith watched him go before eying the bowl of what looked to be broth and the crust of bread that had been given to her without a trace of interest for a brief moment before she once again looked towards the window. She had no appetite.

’What am I to do now?‘ She found herself thinking hopelessly, her hands unconsciously clenching into fists on her thighs. The guards clearly didn’t believe in The possibility of her innocence, so would there be a point to her arguing in her own defense? She had failed. In her mind, she as good as killed the queen in that case. But she hadn’t done it by her own hand...

...She wished she knew who had.

This wasn't the the first time Artyom had to break into a prison, oddly enough it was a fairly common practice in his trade. In fact the night before Artyom had to break in and deliver a pirate a message for his father. Not a exciting job, but even though the son was in prison The father loved him son. Artyom Knew the guard rotations, the path he was going to take and the guards who didn't care if one person came in and two left. Quickly Artyom entered the prison grounds, expertly avoiding the guards he knew were going to be a problem. After some time in the prison Artyom finds the man he was looking for. Sitting alone at a small table within one of the many Guardrooms sat a small balding fat man eating a meal.
"Martin... Having Dinner are we?" Aryom asks, his deep voice with only a hint of his home country accent being noticeable, surprising the man, making him drop his chicken leg. "Who...Artyom..." The man said in a British accent as he rises up from his seat. "No, I know why are here Artyom, Some hired you to kill the captain...." Artyom's laughter cuts off the man before he can continue "No Warden...I have a choice for you...I will...take her off your hands,give you a little coin...I know the wife and kids could use a extra bit with the new taxs...Or I make a widow tonight...Up to you my friend." Artyom says coldly 'I hate to do this to him...He is a good man...' Martin thought for a few moments "Artyom...I liked the captain...but people more important than me want her to die... shes cell block two third cell." he says as he places down a key and leaves the room.

After some time Artyom found his way to the cell. Inside say the guard captain "Good evening Captain... I trust your day has been fun." He says lightly with a slight chuckle.

Eventually, Edith had allowed her head to sink down onto her forearms, her arms propped onto her knee, her heel on the edge of the bed. She had almost given into crying once again, but bit back the temptation with a grimace and a sharp shake of her head that made her braid sway. Then she had shut her eyes tightly and attempted to sink into a meditative state of mind.

So by the time that a set of footsteps echoed in the hallway outside her cell, The captain had nearly found a state of calm in which she could start to except what had happened to her. She didn’t, therefore, react to the sound of someone approaching... until the key turned in her door that was. The instant she heard the scrape of metal on metal, her head shot up, eyes widening with surprise. She stared at the stranger that stepped inside the room, gaze flickering over his face and trying to place him in her mind. He didn’t look like a guard she knew... Nor was he dressed like a soldier. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion as he casually greeted her with a joke and a chuckle.

After a moment, she spoke. “Who are you?“ Her voice came out low, even and soft, hiding any hint of her wariness.

Artyom chuckled at the captain. "I am... Kais at your service." He said with a exaggerated bow. Artyom had never been one to trust new people with his real name. In fact in his entire life there had only been Four people who knew his real name, His parents, the guard captain martin and his last partner Kristina. of the four His parents were dead,The captain is a good man and Kristina...Well she is complicated "I hear you killed the queen Bravo, a lot of people wanted to do it, Few ever get out of the talking huff stage...Let alone actually to go through with it...Shame you got caught." he said in a bored tone.
Artyom knew she didn't do anything wrong, in fact he knew back at the inn that there would be people looking to hire him to break her out of jail. All he cared about was seeing her response, depending on how she answered he would help her or just leave her in the cell to rot. He hoped the Captain wasn't resigned to her fate, that she was unwilling to be used as a pawn in some great chess game. If she was then he would help her, just as he was once helped. Besides He had met the captain once before, she must have been just fresh into the military then, as she was just a regular soldier at the time. She had stopped a merchants guard from nearly killing him, just because the merchant suspected him of stealing.

Artyom was surprised by the woman before him, even as he approached he knew she was studying him. She would notice his above six foot height, his hazel green eyes, his short black hair, His black cloak with a hood, the sword at his hip and the throwing knives strapped to his chest.