Lady Maritza was happily explaining Manticores to both Violette and Jarde when something happened.

The collective gasp of multiple people caught the hall's entire attention. The source of which was at Fanilly and the Princess' position. Everyone's eyes quickly went over to them but Jarde's entire body went over. Even a commoner like him knew that a gasp like that from that many people only meant trouble. He did not think about it, he went there as fast as he could. He needed to make sure they were safe. That she was safe.

He saw the Captain on top of the Princess and with Sir Gillian and Lady Tyaethe right beside them. It appeared Gillian was shielding Fanilly and the Princess while Tyaethe stood there with a bolt to her chest. He stood there in disbelief as he stared at the wound and the seemingly unaffected Paladin Knight.

"Iron Roses! To arms!"

Jarde heard her command and he brought out his signature weapons. It was mostly on reflex rather than thought since wielding such weapons required lighter armor to be effective and not a full plate like he was wearing right now.

But none of the mattered right now, he needed to find the danger. Jarde then saw several Iron Rose Knights over there with Sir Gerard pinning someone under him. Looks like he missed the action and the other Knights have gotten things under control. More knights, not Iron Roses, poured into the hall and secured the perimeter. Suffice to say, the party was over.

Jarde still has his guard up, of course. His eyes scanned the area for further threats. He turned to look at Tyaethe again but saw that the bolt in her chest was gone, it was in the floor now. Her wound had closed up and she was now completely fine. What the hell was she, Jarde wanted to ask. But he asked something different, "Are you okay?"

Sir Jerel Ban

How had he missed it? The thought rankled. For somebody who prided his eyesight he had missed a lot recently, and this time it could have cost a life.

Jerel barged through the stunned crowd behind Fleuri, only barking apologies and never looking back.

It could have cost a life. He was not so old yet. It was as though he’d fallen from favour. Why did he not deserve it? He must have been doing something wrong. Idleness, doubt. Murder.

It could have cost a life.

But it did not. Even through the adrenaline Jerel felt the relief explode through his trembling limbs; the Princess and Captain were alive. He was surprised to find his bow in hand and an arrow knocked. The string slackened as he relaxed.

A Nem. Not even disguised. He should have seen it.

So why didn’t he?

The others seemed to have the situation under control, or at least one assassin restrained. Could there be more? He didn’t see any, but apparently that meant little. He swore an oath under his breath, some rather colorful language about magic.

Hungry for redemption, Jerel swung gaze over the room, eating the details and picking over each person, and between them, never staying still. Even though he knew he’d find nothing.

"Well, it's a little annoying that the dress is ruined," Tyaethe answered, continuing to look down at the clothing damage before shrugging and looking back towards Jarde. What sort of question was that, anyway? Of course she was alright; crossbow bolts puncturing lungs was more irritating to her than actually problematic. At least in isolation, being repeatedly riddled with shots would be a different matter. "Why would a single shot be a problem?"

The white-haired knight continued to look in Jarde's direction for a second, before the obvious explanation became apparent. She hadn't thought it possible but if children's tales had changed over the past few decades, then maybe... "Vampires are pretty hard to kill."

@PaulHaynek

Unsettling, that Paladin is. Nicomede mused watching Tyaethe push the bolt back out. Great that she wasn't hurt. Still pretty weird to watch a bolt get pushed out of someone without any visible effort. The situation was pretty well in hand for the moment but something still didn't feel quite right. If he were planning it the Nem wouldn't have been much more than a distraction. A way to draw their focus elsewhere before the real assassin took their shot. Then again, he probably only felt that way because of how strange an attempt on the Princess' life it had been. This public venue was the best shot they would get, sure, but their methodology had still been strange. Unrefined. Covert tactics like that were distasteful in the extreme but their was still a proper way to go about it if you actually wanted to get the job done, just like any other plan.

He hummed softly to himself, a single, extended note. Paranoia, maybe. But it's only paranoia when there isn't a real threat.

"No injuries," He commented to Sir Fleuri, deciding that Tyaethe didn't really count. The tip of his sword descended much more slowly than it had gone up, dropping from readiness into a relaxed grip at his side. Without an immediate danger it was more likely he'd jab someone by mistake moving among people indoors than reach an enemy. Plenty of time to change that if a threat presented itself. His wine glass left behind he took a few steps towards the Princess and Knight-Captain, sidestepping Gillian's barrier with an encouraging nod to the younger Knight. He had quick reflexes. They'd serve him well.

"Wonderful of you to keep your guests entertained, but such a show really was unnecessary Your Majesty." He said pleasantly, extending a hand to the Knight-Captain to help her up if she needed it. Wariness danced behind his eyes despite his done, carefully surveying the party opposite where Sir Segremors had the Nem restrained. If another attack was coming, and the Nem had just been a feint, that was the direction it would come from. "I have to apologize for spilling a little of that wine. Absolutely criminal use of such a vintage, but... Well."

Gerard Segremors

His breath was rough, like claws dragged through gravel, and came through bared teeth as he stared a hole into the obstinately mute Nem's frame. He took in one, two, three of them, gaze unwavering even as The Knight Serpenta gingerly slid her staff, headed by the crushing arcs of a steel mace, between them. She pressed it against the small of the Nem's back, pinning her further, and spoke calmly. While the much younger knight was by no means lost to the world around him, Maritza Verenna did admittedly take his fervor down a notch, when one paired her tone with the relative lull.

It served to chip the edges off the terse grunt that carried his agreement, at least. Like any of his comrades, Gerard held nothing but respect in his heart for the Naga, but not even that could fully erase the ire the young Nem had drawn to herself. She had threatened an innocent life. She had proven herself willing to kill. A great part of him wanted to see retribution delivered. The Reonite, who burned hot as the sun her gilded palace sat upon, saw his enemy before him. He could not just deny that something needed to be done about this.

"Might not be alone, yeah."

...But this pain, clearly shown across her grimacing face, did not bring them any closer to victory than they already were. Even within his iron grip, the Nem held her tongue. To act upon that impulse of anger would tread the thin line between force and cruelty. It was one he did not dare approach without sense.

You're a knight now. If you cannot measure yourself...

"I'll defer to your experience, then." he replied again after the long moment had passed, slowly shifting his weight and loosening his grip upon the would-be assassin's wrist. He wasn't so green as to immediately relinquish her— Segremors instead staged it, only giving enough slack at each point for the Naga to immediately take over in his stead. "Careful, don't let her wriggle out... And I hope you can get her to talk. Get the feeling I can't."

Not unless he felt like straddling that line, as if he had not even considered trying to better embody chivalry. This was the better path, at least for now. Though he hadn't managed to get anything out of her... what would such a young Nem have a vendetta against the Princess of Thaln for? Assassination attempts that ended at the would-be killer weren't so common. If that was the case, she'd also have no compulsion to keep quiet as she was now, right?

Dame Maritza had their quarry in full, now. Inclining his head to her, he rose to his full height, amber eyes sweeping the room yet again. Nothing that jumped out... just a mass of shaken nobility and mobilizing guards. The latter would likely be setting up a fairly secure perimeter— given that this was the Crown of Thaln, he would be shocked had they not proven more than capable of enforcing a lockdown. None entered or left without being strictly identified and vetted, all potential alternate routes of escape monitored, that sort of thing. It was a familiar task; despite not having ever worried about stakes like these, he and his fellows had been extensively drilled on how to earn their keeps.

He turned back towards the gathering that he had left in the dust, assessing the aftermath as he started towards them. It was a longer march than he had realized, now that he wasn't rushing. Nonetheless, the swordsman had very clearly not allowed himself to relax, either, and was still coiled like a spring.

"Thanks, ma'am." he said quickly to the First and Youngest as he drew even with her. Like he'd figured, the vampiric Paladin was more than fine, worried instead about a ruined dress and teasing Jarde than her injury. He didn't doubt that she considered it as little more than an afterthought, but unintentionally so or otherwise, it was thanks to her that the bolt on the floor had not sunk into him instead. He owed her his gratitude all the same. As for the young man...

"Party's really started now, Jarde. You nearly missed it."

He could spare a little cheek to welcome him back, a soldier's irony, but needed to continue on after he threw his erstwhile conversation partner a crooked smile. A few strides further away lay the Princess, the Captain, and the rest of the group— all thankfully unharmed, as Sir Nicomede had just finished reporting. His eyes confirmed it moments later; whatever (if anything) had slipped past he and Tyaethe would have been squarely rebuffed by the arcane shield Sir Gillian had quickly thrown up. As the Knight-Captain rose, Princess having been shielded a second (or third or fourth, depending on how you looked at it) time over by her body, Gerard came to a stop, standing at attention.

"Dame Maritza has the assailant under control. We believe she'd be better suited to coax out a few answers than I." he reported tightly, glancing momentarily to Fleuri and the dagger he held. Had that been what had gone flying from the Nem's grip? He'd barely seen it. "In the meantime, Captain, Orders?"

"Vampires are pretty hard to kill."

"Vampire? Y-You're a Vampire?" Jarde was confused. "But... aren't you a Paladin? How can that be?" He was sure that the Churches of Mayon and Reon was... not friendly to creatures like Tyaethe claimed to be. For her to be a Paladin of the Church while also being a Vampire, it did not add up.

Jarde sighed, giving up trying to make sense of it. There was probably a reason for it, maybe something in the doctrine of the Churches that he simply did not know about. He was no expert in the Churches' laws so even his earlier certainty was in doubt. Perhaps the Churches were not that unfriendly to the living dead. Are Vampires even undead? Jarde stopped dwelling on it and made his final reply. "Well, I'm glad you're alright." A smile formed in his face. "Nice to have a Vampire with us. A few races more and we'll have the entire world in the Iron Roses. Hahaha."

"Party's really started now, Jarde. You nearly missed it."

Jarde took a look at the scene. Evacuating nobles, guards and soldiers and knights wrapping up, Maritza already talking to the subdued assassin. "I don't know, Sir Gerard. I think I missed all of it." He said before joining him and the other knights for some orders from the Captain.

@Crimson Paladin@Raineh Daze@jdh97@PaulHaynek@Krayzikk@FlappyTheSpybot@HereComesTheSnow@VitaVitaAR@ghastlyInc

---

---

Elwen sighed when she realized the bodyguard wasn't undead like she thought. Her eyes narrowed at the girl when she mentioned her name. So she was his daughter eh? explains the need for a over the top bodyguard.... Elwen suddenly stopped swaying, Her drunken smile gone and replaced with a cold look. "I like to see him try. Ill burn him alive in that armor if he dares even touch me. Much like the former knights under your father.

She spun around at the sound of a commotion behind her. But she was too far away from the real threat. another knight was already on top of the would be assassin. This only put her into a foul mood. she picked the wrong 'threat'entirely. She walked away from the little girl and her guard with out another word.

She was annoyed with the other knights as well, she said to keep an eye out in the crowd. Yet they sat there chatting with each to each other. idiots. Perhaps Tyaethe would not have been shot, or even the assassin wouldn't have even gotten a shot off. What the fuck was she even doing here.

She walked over to the assassin and looked down at her, ignoring the naga for a moment. She pointed a finger at the Nem "Reveal" She casted a simple spell to detect magic. To which she found none. "No magic... you should squeeze her pinkie finger into itself. I have yet to meet even the toughest manwho couldn't hold his tongue with that pain " She said simply as she looked to the Naga Knight. She looked to the other knights, talking to each other and not keeping their eyes open.

Growling she placed her hand on her sword and begun scanning the room for anything. All the while drinking more from the bottle she had yet to drop.

Fanilly took Sir Nicomede's hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. As she did, she took the Princess's hand in her other, Eliabelle somewhat more shakily pulled up as well.

Several things had happened in the time it took for the Nem to be captured. The crown knights, in their full face-concealing armor, had swiftly taken up positions around the Iron Roses and the Princess. Others had quickly found their way to every possible exit of the main hall, blocking them off with their weapons or their bodies. At least the Crown Knights had responded quickly...

With Sir Gerard asking her for orders, Fanilly inhaled deeply and tried to think. The Princess appeared as if she was trying not to show it, but Fanilly could feel her shaking as she still held her hand...

"... Bolster the defenses the crown knights have put into place, and if you can ask if anyone in the crowd noticed anything strange before the attack," she said, finally. She still didn't understand it, not really. How could a single nem Assassin have possibly made her way into the hall without being seen? She appeared to have come right from the middle of the crowds. While she knew that the diminutive desert-dwelling race was known for being subtle and stealthy, and their small size certainly aided in that, there was no way one could walk through the center of a party without being seen.

Or... was there?

By this point, the Nem herself had stopped struggling entirely. Instead, she simply laid there limply. She did not appear to be in any sort of pain or anything of the sort, so it was unlikely she had somehow poisoned herself. Instead, she was simply lying there on her back, glaring up towards her captors. Still she had not made a single sound, though tears could be seen in the corner of her narrowed eyes, and it seemed she was trembling slightly.

Aside from that, nothing could be discerned of the Assassin's intentions thus far. If anything was to be found, it likely wasn't going to be found like this.

@HereComesTheSnow@Asuras@jdh97@Animal@TheFake@Crimson Paladin@PaulHaynek@FlappyTheSpybot@Raineh Daze@ghastlyinc@Krayzikk@Heartfillia

His sword sang as it sprang from it's sheath, moving instantly to a guard position. The immediate threat was taken care of but there was still the possibility of additional assailants. THe tip ofd the weapon wandered, lingering momentarilly on one guest or another as he sized them up.

"Stay vigilant!"

He kept his guard up and moved closer to the captain. Indrau paid little attention to the already subdued assassin outside of the breifest of glances. This one, at least, was no longer a threat. His eyes scanned the room carefuly.

"Should we move the princess to another room? We don't know if there are other assassins."

At two hundred years old, there were few things that Tyaethe would say were able to flummox her. Questioning what a vampire was doing as a paladin? That was old hat and there was a simple explanation starting off with the goddesses not approving of any of their clergy killing children in cold blood.

For someone to not know, however...

"You... that... how? It's been common knowledge for the last two hundred years, parents used to scare their misbehaving children with stories!" she stated, going through the obvious things that should have made it not worth questioning, "And even without that, there's the immortality, and the pale skin, and I was using a parasol when we came back from the forest."

@PaulHaynek

"You... that... how? It's been common knowledge for the last two hundred years, parents used to scare their misbehaving children with stories! And even without that, there's the immortality, and the pale skin, and I was using a parasol when we came back from the forest."

Tyaethe appeared upset that Jarde did not immediately pick up that she was a Vampire. He raised his hands in defense. "Lady Tyaethe, please calm down. I'm sorry for not recognizing you as a Vampire, but can you blame me?"

"Back home, we never had any races other than human. Sure we were taught there were other races, but just the bare minimum like Hundi are doggy people, Nem are small people, Nagas are snake people, Undead were Zombies and stuff with Vampires being drinkers of blood. There was no illusion though, it was doubtful we were meeting any of these races so we all just nodded and moved along. We never asked what they looked like or how they acted because again, their existence was irrelevant to our lives. Uhh, no offense." Jarde did his best to explain himself. "As for punishment, well, our punishments were more... physical. Hehe, haaaah."

"You may say that my home village is pretty sheltered and detached from the rest of Thaln... and you'd be right!" Despite the negative-seeming remark, Jarde was glad to be talking about his hometown. "It's unremarkable and pretty out of the way. The only outsiders who visit my village are tax collectors and the occasional Church priest or priestess, most of whom I think are surprised that the place existed. The civil war didn't even reach it! Fortunate, yes, but we also kinda got the news late."

"Anyway, all I'm saying that I've never seen or met a Vampire until now. Heck, I gawked at Lady Maritza a lot when I first met her. Err, don't tell her that." Jarde's frequent laugh was now sheepish. "I'll have a lot to tell my folks when I get back home."

"Attention span of may flies those two I swear..." Gill grumbled to the Princess as he watched Tyaethe drill into a recruit....Verbally. He'd not stepped away from the princess since the first shot was fired, his eyes darting about as he tentatively dropped the warding spell. He kept himself practically glued to her side, not really trusting the Royal Guards not to have a traitor in their ranks. Unlikely, but still a possibility.

"Your highness.." He practically growled. "Perhaps it would be best if..." He sighs, feeling no mood for pleasantries. "Oh Reon's tits with it. You got personal bodyguards right? Call 'em over. I'm escorting you back to your room and I want people you trust." He huffs, crossing his arms as he looked at the Nem in question. There was something...familiar with her posture. A desperate clawing fear that he wasn't sure he was imagining or not. Part of him wanted to go over and aid in the interrogation, not really trusting some of the knights to not press the nem so hard she broke. But the Princesses safety took priority.

Elwen walked over to the assassin and looked down at her, ignoring the naga for a moment. She pointed a finger at the Nem "Reveal" She casted a simple spell to detect magic. To which she found none. "No magic... you should squeeze her pinkie finger into itself. I have yet to meet even the toughest man who couldn't hold his tongue with that pain " She said simply as she looked to the Naga Knight. She looked to the other knights, talking to each other and not keeping their eyes open.

As the other knight steps away, Martiza fully returns her attention to the would-be assassin. "Alright little one, time for some answers. Fortunately for you, I'm not one to jump straight to torture." The Naga says, as she begins to search the Nem. ...Let's see, a knife, another knife, that's a set of thieves tools, even more knives; far more than any self-respecting professional would carry... What in the goddesses' names is an amateur doing going after the crown princess?.. Something's not right, This doesn't all add up... And why haven't they made a single noise yet?..

Frowning, Mari calls over her shoulder as she reaches to remove the scarf around the Nem's neck. "Tyaethe? A moment of your time, please." Underneath the scarf, the Nem's throat was covered in a perticularly nasty set of scars. "Well that complicates things."

Tyaethe sighed, Jarde would have to learn about undead in more detail soon... it could be a pretty lethal mistake otherwise. "Most likely, if you had ever met another vampire, you would be dead."

Oddly, her attention appeared to be wanted for the assassin--as though holding a nem down was a challenging task. Pushing through to Maritza, the paladin scratched could only scratch her head a few times. "That's either a really neat animal, or a really sloppy attempt at surgery. Miss Assassin, nod if you can write."

It wasn't particularly subtle that the nem couldn't say anything due to missing a voice box.

Gerard Segremors

He had figured as much. Wasn't much else to be done until they had tangible answers from the captured assailant, save for tightening the net. His amber eyes darted across the room, searching for possible holes. He found little— The Crown Knights weren't just for show. All main exits were accounted for...

"Understood." he nodded swiftly nonetheless. He'd suss out a good place to post himself, of that much he was certain—

"Sir Nicomede," an armored hand fell upon the shoulder of the closest senior knight, even as the bulk of Gerard's body continued past him. "You're a gentler hand than I when it comes to the people here. More experienced." He spoke evenly, perfectly assured of his words. There was a certain bearing that he'd noticed the man carry, one that spoke to more than simple experience within this setting and crowd. It was much more like Sir Fleuri's... he didn't merely know how to pay service to one of them— he was comfortable amongst them.

Like they were his own.

"I'll not let a soul past me."

He was obviously an intelligent man. Probably more than Gerard himself. He'd understand what the words meant.

Managing them in this panic and coaxing out accounts was far more his speed than Gerard's. Above all else, he trusted his seniors with the delicate aspects of what was required of them. You need not a broadsword for the job of a razor. He could do it in a pinch, but there wasn't sense in wasting energy that could be used to fortify the perimeter further. Not when many present could do it better. As the venerable Sir Indrau said, they needed to stay vigilant.

The entrance to those magnificent gardens was wide and grandiose, primed to display their beauty to all who would visit.

It also made for a lot of space to take up with steel and manpower. He could tighten that up a bit.

With swift, purposeful strides, he continued his march forward.

"Take heed of the soulless, too. Usually even worse."

The remark was quiet, slipped in like a riposte before the other knight passed out of earshot. Nicomede smiled more with his eyes than the rest of his face, a trace of genuine levity in a serious atmosphere. Not that the remark was entirely in jest, either; at least not in any other environment. Here at the ball it wasn't very likely. But then neither had been an assassination attempt on the princess, so who was to say?

With Fanilly on her feet and a secure perimeter established he returned his blade to its sheathe entirely. He could work another defensive interception without him anyway, and the area was definitely becoming a little crowded to be handling live steel. Even at this distance he could catch a glimpse of the scarring on the Nem's neck, and a frown tugged at his mouth. Whether by stature or age the small assailant reminded him a little of his sister, and he didn't like to consider how she might have come by them.

Still, as Sir Gerard had requested, he moved a little closer to where Dame Maritza had the assassin and observed quietly.

Fanilly's eyes widened, and a few observers, including the Princess herself, gasped when they saw the state of the Nem's throat. The ugly scarring was only the beginning of it, it looked as if flesh had actually been removed at some point. As if something had been taken from her. There was no denying the obvious, at some point in the Nem's live her voice box had been carved out. She had survived, somehow, but it left its grisly mark as an incredibly ugly scar. No wonder she wore the scarf...

"... Move the Princess to another room, deeper in the castle," Fanilly said, finally, approaching. Even though the Nem girl was an assassin, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow. Who would do such a thing? Who would so brutally rob someone of their ability to speak? It was difficult to understand for the young knight.

Several moments after being asked if she could write, the Nem Assassin nodded, tears still in her glaring eyes.

Fanilly took a deep breath, and signaled for a quill and paper to be brought.

When it was delivered, the Nem scrawled out a single, shaky message.

'YOU KILLED HER'

@HereComesTheSnow@Asuras@jdh97@Animal@TheFake@Crimson Paladin@PaulHaynek@FlappyTheSpybot@Raineh Daze@ghastlyinc@Krayzikk@Heartfillia

After talking with Tyaethe, Jarde followed Fanilly towards the subdued Nem assassin. She had ordered to secure the perimeter, to increase the security already provided by the Crown Knights. Jarde would obey but then everyone else assumed their positions. Sure, he could join them but his presence would only make those places crowded and possibly reduce its effectiveness especially considering Jarde was not the person you want to stand and hold a position. Besides, he could just make it seem he was just passing by on his way.

That and he was also curious to what was going on with the intruder. Maritza had removed the scarf around the Nem's neck to reveal a nasty scar, one that indicated a terrible wound was inflicted upon it. Jarde grimaced at the sight but now they knew why the Nem was so quiet. He felt pity and wondered what story was behind this little intruder. Fanilly ordered for writing implements and once the assassin got them, she had but one, shaky message.

'YOU KILLED HER'

"Well that's not ominous at all."

Jarde felt a slight chill at the words and what they could mean. What was clear, though, was that this assassination attempt was one of vengeance. A passionate one from the looks of it since the Nem had tears welling up in her eyes. She was probably angry and sad that her attempt failed. At least, that was what seemed to Jarde.

The 'Her' was probably someone near and dear to the would-be assassin. 'You' was the more vague question. The Crown Princess was the closest candidate, but could it be her? The Princess was beloved across Thaln. "Who here wanna bet that she's talking about the Princess?" Still, Jarde put it out there to begin the conversation.

'YOU KILLED HER'

...Revenge. That explains a thing or two... and also opens up a dozen more questions... The Naga thinks to herself with a wry grimace, having let the Nem up to write her message; though her tail remained loosely coiled around the would-be assassin to discourage them from doing anything foolish.

"Who here wanna bet that she's talking about the Princess?"

At Jarde's comment, Maritza suppressed a roll of her eyes; someone was going to need to teach that boy some tact. Resting one hand on the Nem's shoulder to make sure they wouldn't try to run, the Naga takes a brief glance up and around the hall. Beyond the wall of guards, carefully veiled gazes peered in on them, while rumors and questions spread like wildfire on whispered voices. ...The sooner we can get out of here, the better...

Taking a deep breath, Mari speaks up, slightly projecting her voice over murmuring din. "Idle theories will get us nowhere. What we need to do is to properly question the would-be assailant." Lowering her voice back to a quieter conversational tone, the naga redirects her attention. "Captain, Lady Tyaethe, You two are more familiar with Royal Castle than I am. I believe we should relocate to a more... secure location. One with fewer prying eyes and ears."

Fleuri Jodeau

"That would explain her silence," Fleuri observed when the assassin's scarf was removed. Someone had ripped out her voice box, depriving her of the ability to speak, and had somehow done so without killing her. But why would anybody perform such a gruesome procedure, and what kind of person would choose to undergo such life-changing butchery? Despite all the gruesome things he had seen done do a human body, often by his own hand, Fleuri felt a twinge of discomfort at the sight of the scars on the Nem's throat.

Fleuri wasn't surprised that an assassin would undergo something like this- it wasn't unheard of for those attempting high-profile assassinations to resort to extremely drastic measures if they're committed to a cause beyond simply collecting payment. With that in mind, it was more surprising to him that the Nem hadn't burned up in a sudden burst of magic or begun seizing up from an unseen self-administered poison.

If she's not willing to die, perhaps it's not entirely impossible to coax some information out of her.

Tyaethe asked the assassin if she could write, to which she affirmatively nodded. Fleuri was a little apprehensive about giving the assassin a sharp writing implement, but to his relief she didn't try anything. Her message simply said, "YOU KILLED HER".

That explains her gripe with us, if we killed someone close to her. At least I think that's what she's saying. The context of her answer is rather ambiguous.

Fleuri knelt down next to the assassin. "If it is not too painful for you, my lady, could you elaborate on the meaning and context of your message? I'm afraid it is a bit unclear to us what your reply means."

The knight shifted his mantle to cover his neck and tightened his grip on the Nem's blade as he questioned her. His intention was to be as diplomatic and nonthreatening as possible, but it never hurt to be a little cautious.