"Vadrudor is going to be a bit difficult to navigate in regard to the polit-" Arel's silvery-blue eyes narrowed.
"You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?" The disengaged brown irises moved from the etched glass mosaic dominating the eastern wall of the main hall back to the peeved voice.
"Apologies. My focus has been divided far too much as of late." A half-frown flickered across Arel's face.
"Understandable." Both of their gazes momentarily drifted to the mosaic in question. The near kaleidoscopic color scheme burst from the piece, emphasizing the subject in the center: a bearded man in armor, sword jutting over his head with beams of victorious light shining in every direction, mountain ranges capped with snow serving as the background. To the left and right of the armored figure were a variety of men and women garbed in familiar functions that any in Ishemeldia would recognize: fishermen, hunters, loggers, merchants and the like.
"The mourning you still have in your heart is shared, I'm sure, Olosse." Olosse nodded, fully aware that there were those in the mountains who still burned pyres three weeks after his death.
"Indeed...yet, mourning is something that does not befit a future king, does it?" A sad smile came and went.
"If that mourning interferes with his royal duties, then yes, unfortunately." Arel's lips pursed, then continued his original line of thought:
"As I was saying, the Vadrudorian court is in upheaval at the moment. Our intelligence in the capital has informed us of grumblings about our formalization of trade relations with the Rakuhor dynasty that currently rules the Silver throne. Vikar Rakuhor has been on a bit of warpath trying to purge out the malcontents in an attempt to reassert his family's control. Many think that the Vikar and his lineage are trying to acquiesce to Ishmeldia due to their reliance of importing our wood and copper." A snort came from Olosse.
"Arrogant as they may be, at least Rakuhor and his family knows that their relationship with us is beneficial. If any of the other rival families established their own dynasties, Vadrudor would be much more of a thorn in our sides...and everyone else across the Continent." Arel made a good point. Olosse knew the history of Vadrudor quite well, seeing as his father had appointed Vadrudor as Olosse's first post as ambassador. It was a good move on his father's part; Vadrudor had a troubled, bloody history of insurrections, wars and strife that saw the kingdom change hands several times and a near annihilation of any natural resources available to them. It wasn't until fifty or so odd years ago that the kingdom experienced stability at the hands of Logana Rakuhor, a captain in the Vadrudorian Brigade that took control of the Silver Throne after their king had been assassinated. Rakuhor never wanted to rule permanently, but after eliminating the latest insurrection and establishing informal alliances with several neighboring kingdoms (Ishmeldia being one of them), the people wouldn't hear of anyone else other than Logana becoming king.
"How do you suggest I handle the signing?" Arel paused for a few moments, fingers tapping on the marble table he stood over.
"Arrive at least two days before and have your Shadow do some investigative work while you massage the Vikar and his officials. I'll send a missive to the Vikar immediately to ensure that you'll have increased security before, during and after. Gather as much intelligence as you can about how the court is doing and ensure that your Shadowguard sends an encoded report to me about their findings. After the signing, the Vikar will more than likely want to cement an alliance with us through marriage." A gulp from Olosse.
"Now now, no need to think your reputation will take a hit; as your stand-in Chancellor and future royal advisor, I would recommend that if the Vikar makes a proposal, you immediately defer and encourage him to keep a lady in waiting until you are fully made king. That'll buy us enough time to determine if an alliance by marriage is appropriate."
"Given my father's stance on having more than one queen, I doubt that I would want to commit to something that drastic." Arel chortled.
"Indeed; nor would your mother approve of such a measure. However, most of our neighbors practice the custom of multiple marriages, so we must respect their cultures while maintaining the dignity of our own." Olosse rose from the high-backed chair he had been sitting on for the last hour, casting one more look at the mosaic before making eye contact with Arel.
"I'll convene with Iris and set out tomorrow morning. I won't be taking much of a ret-"
"My Liege-in-Waiting, you are a future king; your retinue shall and must be massive. An eyesore. The custom of royalty demands it." A smirk from both.

As the carriage bumped along the unkempt road towards Valkan, the capital city of Vadrudor, Olosse pored over the reports that Arel had alluded to regarding the unrest within the city. He read snippets aloud to the woman seated across from him:
"Mercantile ships refuse to dock at Valkan ports citing extortion by ne'er-do-wells...increased reports of fistfights, stabbings and other violent crimes...propaganda littered in taverns proclaiming the death of all 'that is right and Vadrudorian'...heated debates between Vikar and factions..." He looked up from the reports just in time for the carriage to hit a large groove in the road, prompting his lithe frame to jolt upward, head hitting the ceiling of the carriage. Muttering a curse, he nodded towards the nearly fully covered woman across from him.
"What do you think of all this, Iris? Surely amidst the Shadow's ranks you've heard more concrete things."

Iris sat there across from her liege, feeling rather nauseous with each bump and sway of the carriage that carried them over many miles of dirt roads. If one listened closely, perhaps they’d hear a groan escape her lips from behind that expressionless mask she wore. Gods, if only she had been allowed to ride in her own separate carriage, she would’ve swiftly traversed the terrain through the bountiful shadows in nature and arrived at Vadrudor days ago. Surely there was a place she could hunker down in until the entourage arrived, no one would be the wiser of her absence.This torture of motion sickness was all for her liege though… it was all for him. Everything she did, every thought, every word was for him and him alone. Her very existence was now for Olosse, since the passing of the man who had given her… everything.

At the mention of her name Iris perked up, trying to steady her mind as she pondered upon his question. There were rumors galore within the ranks of the shadowguard, but nothing could ever be concrete if one did not witness it themselves. But there was certainly more to it than that report held, those hazel green eyes gazing at Olosse from behind the shadows she had cast over the holes in her mask. Did he look more like his mother or the man she once served? It was so very hard to tell at times.

“My liege, without confirming this information with my own eyes nothing is concrete. But we have heard… unsettling things, nonetheless. It is why I must implore you to allow me to stay by your side at all times, if these rumors are to be trusted.”

Iris shifted ever so slightly upon the red cushioned bench, her arms crossed under her rather ample chest whilst her left leg crossed over her right knee. Her uniform that she wore at all times was as pitch black as the midnight sky of Teraploise, the fabric tight against her skin which exposed her lithe yet slightly muscular build in her shoulders and back. Her legs though were an entirely different story, taught stocky muscles filled out the tight breathable fabric from calf to her well defined asset. In truth, perhaps she had taken more of a shine to running than she had to her sword and dagger training. But she’d never admit that, after all, she was supposed to be an expert in all manners of protection.

“Things in Vadrudor are far from ideal. The people are restless due to a group called Bludless who seek to usurp the throne and claim it as their own. They seek the destruction of the blue bloods, wanting to see a new face on not just Vadrudor’s throne but… everywhere.”

It was clear from Iris’ tone that the idea did not sit well at all with her, but behind that mask the rage she felt towards these so called ‘warriors of the people’ was very clear. She had seen many groups like this when she lived her rather simple life in Terploise, even having been used as bait at one point to lure out usurpers who claimed they were the real king and her father was a fake. They wished for all of the king's children to die with him, that night still fresh in her mind as it was the first time she had seen her own blood. The scar just beside her belly button was plain as day even though nearly a decade had passed. Her other forgotten siblings though… they had not been so fortunate as to receive such a simple scar.

“This unrest harms the people, yes, but ultimately Bludless believes they are sending a message of their power to all the kingdoms. If they can do this… what else can they do? That is what worries me about this trip… things are escalating my liege and I do not wish to see your life snuffed out in the crossfire. Diplomacy is important but I cannot…”

Iris trailed off, she dared not finish her words stating the fact that she was terrified she’d lose another king. Those words dared not cross her full lips… so silence reigned over the carriage, uncomfortable in its overwhelming presence.

Olosse listened to Iris, fixed on her glistening irises as she relayed her concerns about this 'Bludless' group with an undercurrent of what the liege-in-waiting thought was mild anxiety; odd. His personal Shadowguard normally didn't betray emotion easily and even when he could detect a semblance of sentiment, it was quickly suppressed. This 'Bludless' organization must be more powerful than she's letting on, which she all but confirmed by her derivation of "unsubstantiated rumors are just that, your highness"; he knew the semantics of the Shadows well enough by now to translate their rhetoric into more plain speech that a member of the royal family could use. While maybe his father appreciated the downplaying of issues that the Shadows encountered in their intelligence gathering so that he could focus more on his own priorities, Olosse valued the Shadows more than any other group in the Ishmeldian ranks and even more value was placed on the woman across from him. When his father had assigned Iris to Olosse several years ago, the latter was annoyed by the idea of a perceived baby-sitter, but after several official trips across the Continent, he had come to value her council and, in the rare moments he had seen her practice her art, her martial prowess (albeit, he had come in on the very last gasp of action or the aftermath). If he was also being completely honest, he ALSO came to value her...well, it wasn't difficult to conceptualize the kind of physical beauty she was underneath the suit she wore. He was above cracking comments about her attractiveness in form, however; his respect for her position as well as her ability to sever his arteries in potentially a millisecond thwarted any young-blooded remarks.

"Cannot what, Iris? Speak your mind. If my trusted Shadowguard is having doubts about what we're about to go into, I need to hear them." The road that had once jostled the carriage smoothed out, indicating that they were on the initial approach towards Valkan. The carriages would ultimately follow a gentle slope upward for about a mile before the road straightened out once again and put the entirety of Valkan on display.
"My liege, we were given instructions to circumvent the main gate and go to the Western entrance. Should we still follow the instructions given?" Olosse chuckled. The Western entrance of Valkan opened up into the wealthiest area of the city and served as the most direct path to the palace as well as a way for all those in the court to get a nice view of the visiting retinue. Naturally, Rakuhor wanted his most influential supporters and his most vicious detractors to see that his plans, no matter what were thrown against them, would succeed. It was a good optics play, one that Olosse appreciated; after all, they would be formalizing their trade alliance in just two days, said formalization also including a pledge of military support for both kingdoms. This would be a first in any treaty Ishmeldia had signed, but Olosse's father, Arel and Olosse himself recognized that having the Vadrudorian Horde (as they called themselves) as allies could only prove to be beneficial if and when Ishmeldia faced war.
"Yes, follow the instructions." His attention returned to Iris.
"Say on. Before we get to the Kingdom, I need to hear your thoughts without any filters." A half-smile.
"Don't spare my feelings nor my sensibilities."

Western entrance: ()

Iris shifted a bit on the bench, her mind shifting words around to properly fit everything she wished to convey in simple easy terms. Unlike his father, Olosse preferred not to mince words nor spar verbally. It was still a trait she was trying to get used to, speaking plainly even in the past had been difficult with her… training. But at last she settled on the words she knew would get through to him, sighing softly as she leaned forward slightly.

“My liege, this… this seems like a trap. I believe in my ability to protect you wholeheartedly, but I am one individual in an unknown location. We have no allies until this treaty is signed, and frankly… I do not trust Arel. I have nothing concrete, just a feeling in the pit of my stomach that weighs heavy. This is our first diplomatic mission since your fathers passing, and this mission was set up by the man whom I deem untrustworthy. We are up against dangerous individuals, the likes of which wish to see the blood of the crown destroyed. There are many unknowns… I do not feel easy about the journey ahead of us.”

Iris’ gloved hand ran across the length of the mask, her nose sucking in a deep breath as she tried to center herself. This wasn’t like her, she didn’t get spooked like this… Something wasn’t right, about any of this. For starters, why would Arel be sending Olosse to a kingdom potentially on the verge of war? If everything was true, why not send him to a different kingdom to ally themselves with? The Vadrudorian Horde was strong, massively so, but so was the army of her kin- no… perhaps it was for the best they were not going to Teraploise. Whispers from the shadows was her father was looking for her still… to be sold off once again she was sure. She refused… she would rather die by Olosse’s hand before she abandoned him.

“If something happens to me, my liege, please get yourself back to Ishmelda. No matter what, you must ensure you return safely back to the people. My life matters not when compared to the weight of your own. I will do my best to ensure neither of us comes to harm but if the inevitable happens… whatever it takes, even if you must go into hiding… You must survive my liege. You must promise me this.”

Iris’ words prompted a mixture of skepticism and caution, Olosse sitting up taller in the carriage.
“Arel? You deem him untrustworthy? This is news to me. What proof do you have of this?” Arel had served faithfully under his father for as long as the prince could remember in a variety of roles: royal advisor, lead emissary, trade viceroy and the last two years of his father’s life, acting Chancellor. All of the aforementioned roles had been filled admirably by a man who had been called multiple times by his father as the most trustworthy man he had ever called a friend. By the Mountains, Arel had even been appointed Guardian of the Estate if something were to happen to both sons, essentially giving Arel formal parental rights over Libea and the rest of the Bytaus’ family assets.

Then again, Iris wouldn’t have said something this potentially inflammatory if she didn’t have a good reason for it.
“Nothing you say will get back to hi-”
“We’re being approached on horseback, My Liege. Black and white armor with the Vadrudorian flag mounted on each steed.” Olosse gently put a hand briefly on Iris’ knee.
“We’ll continue this later.” A gentle smile.
“And the only way I survive any potential danger is if you’re with me, so consider any promise of my safe return fulfilled as long as you stay by me and get us all back home.” With an endearing, light squeeze, he withdrew the hand and pulled back the curtains on the carriage window to reveal a heavily armored Horde captain in full regalia (if one could consider the Horde’s standard uniform that).
“My Liege Olosse Bytaus, the Vikar has sent us to escort you and your party to the Palace. Please command your subordinates to follow my lead and do not deviate from the road we take.” Olosse mustered a warm smile before asking:
“And who might be leading us to the Palace?” The captain thumped his fist against the hardened metal breastplate that adorned his massive frame twice.
“Captain Arneus, My Liege. It is an honor.”
“Nay, the honor is mine, Captain.” Olosse stuck his head out of the window to spot five Horde soldiers that were pointing at the carriages, no doubt dividing the labor.
“Not that I’m ungrateful for the escort, Captain, but when the Chancellor asked your Vikar for protection, I wasn’t expecting any of the Horde, but rather the city guard.”
“Too much unrest at the moment, My Liege; the Vikar didn’t want to take any chances.”
“Chances with what?” The captain hesitated.
“Some in the city believe that they are more suited to offer direction for Vadrudor than the Vikar and seek to undermine him. We are in control of the situation, I assure you, My Liege.”
“Of that there is no doubt.” The captain’s barrel chest heaved outward, a confident grin briefly passing over his face before resuming the dour look of servitude he had.
“Are you ready to continue forward, My LIege?”
“Indeed. Carry on, Captain.” With a shout of command, the carriages ambled forward , Arneus taking the lead and the other five surrounding the carriage in a two by two by one formation. Olosse nodded to the now curtained window.
“Well, there’s some confirmed intelligence for you, Iris. If the Horde is enforcing the law in the capital, things might be as unstable as we think.” He collected his thoughts for a few minutes, allowing the silence to organize his orders before telling his companion:
“I need you to do some reconnaissance while I’m meeting with the Vikar and his representatives. I don’t know how many other of the Shadowguard are here nor do I need to know, but as their squadron leader, assign two of them to me and ensure they remain visible. The Shadows have a powerful enough reputation even here in this militaristic society that ne’er-do-wells will think twice about an assassination attempt. As for you-” He handed her the intelligence reports he had been perusing.
“I want you to follow any leads on quite literally any of these reports; codify your findings and..” He was going to tell Iris to send them directly to Arel, but without knowing what grounds Iris had for her suspicions, he changed his mind:
“Directly return to my quarters this evening. There won’t be very much in the way of activities tonight with the formal ball tomorrow; let’s take advantage of this time and see what we may be walking into.” He half-smiled.
“And do try to stay out of sight. Your…assets are going to be admired even more so in a place like Vadrudor where the men are more forward and the women more receptive. If you DO find yourself in a tight spot, just…no messes. Make sure no one finds the body…or bodies.”

Olosse found himself at the top of one of the spires that jutted menacingly upward from the imposing stone walls of the Palace, gazing out one of the few windows on the illuminated capital city below. There wasn’t much architectural imagination in the design, each quarter designed in a roughly square manner with massive partitions between each to separate them (or isolate them in case of an uprising or unlawful rioting, which happened far too often), and yet there was a beautiful simplicity to the city that, despite the manner of folk that dwelled in it, charmed him. Speaking of charming, the Vikar had done his best to receive the retinue, throwing a lavish dinner for Olosse and his party along with the families of Rakuhor’s closest court allies. In true Vadrudorian fashion, Olosse was prompted to select one of the ladies-in-waiting of the queen as a welcoming gift, said lady-in-waiting wrapped up in a tangled heap of sheets, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she slept. He shot her a quick glance, snorting a chuckle as his hands slipped comfortably into loose, flowing pants that had been thrown off a bit earlier in the evening. Rowena was a sweet girl, but a bit dull; nevertheless, if custom dictated that His LIege indulged, then so be it.

His gaze returned to the city, wondering silently if Iris had managed to follow up on any pertinent information from the reports he had been looking at earlier. He longed to be on the streets with her, pounding the pavement so to speak. The royal life had wonderful perks, but he itched for a more practical role, one that could DO rather than command.

He felt a gentle breeze waft from behind him. Had Iris returned?

“My liege, I-”

Iris was stopped before she could even truly begin, her lips pursed behind the mask as she debated whether or not she should go any further with this matter. It could be that Arel was trustworthy, it could be that this was all a misunderstanding in her mind. Nothing was concrete, there was no evidence whatsoever of betrayal from the Chancellor. But the fact he knew that there was so much danger in rumor alone yet still sent Olosse here ate at her insides like lava to bedrock. If Olosse perished Arel would merely have to send off the young prince Libea to another ‘diplomatic treaty mission’ and the man would have the throne to himself.

He was trusted by all, no one would question him… all except Iris herself, but she would surely die before Olosse would. Sure, one could see this as training but… everything was just slightly off. There was no substance connecting the pieces, but she could sense something was there. Her gut had never steered her wrong, it was what kept her alive for so many years.

“Yes my liege… I shall be available at your discretion as always.”

Iris bowed her head, her heart beat slightly faster as he released her knee from his strong yet gentle grasp. How long had it been since he had directly touched her? It must have been startling for her, yes… there was nothing more to it than shock.

Greetings and orders ensued from either side of the window, Iris unhappy that these rumors were true but happy that Captain Arneus seemed relatively open with his emotions. He was an easy man to read, should all go well with the negotiations he’d make a loyal asset she was sure of it. But they had to make it through this alive first… if they did perhaps she’d help the captain with his poker face. Documents were scanned with those brilliant hazel orbs, a simple nod of agreement to his plan was all that was exchanged in response. When his attention was elsewhere, she took that moment to depart. Her form faded into the shadows, and when next he saw two Shadowguards were now in her place. The Shadows had a terrifying reputation before Iris had joined them, but afterwards they had gained even more of a reputation when they became known for disappearing and reappearing from nowhere at all. That was all Iris; able to traverse through the shadows at terrifying speed, to transport others through that same darkness to wherever they needed to be. Her powers were terrifying… but limited to two people within the shadows at a time. If she tried to pull anymore individuals through that abyss with her she would receive physical damage, it varied each time since it was seemingly random but it always occurred. Like clockwork, Iris emerged from the shadows with a slight limp, her ankle on fire and swollen ever so fiercely. This… this would make her task difficult, but not impossible. She set off deeper into the city, ready to fulfill all that had been asked of her.

---

Iris stood upon the balcony of the room her liege had been assigned to, having opened the balcony doors ever so slightly to alert him of her presence. She could sense someone slumbering within, a woman… She did not wish to wake her and explain her presence at Olosse’s room at this hour. It wasn’t because her heart beated ever so loudly within her ears that she could barely focus, nor was it the fact she could smell the scent of… entwined bodies coming from within. As she stood upon the balcony with her head bowed, awaiting his arrival she couldn’t help but ponder upon why her body was having this sort of reaction. Perhaps she’d need to bleed her ankle tonight after her report… the injury had to be what was causing this tightness in her chest. That was… that was the only logical conclusion.

Iris stood with her injured ankle tucked behind her good foot, her fist clenched against and across her chest as she waited to finish her greeting. Only when she heard his footsteps did she dip her head deeper into the bow.

“My liege, per your request I have returned to you with all information confirmed. It is as it has been reported and no casualties were committed either.”

It was true, though there was one other difference in her appearance besides her swollen ankle.

That immaculate mask she always wore was cracked from the right eye down to her chin, that midnight fabric stained slightly darker by her chin due to the blood that had seeped down into it. It wasn’t a large cut, a small piece of the mask had simply hit a small vein just below her eye that had taken quite a bit of time to coagulate.

“It seems though that even in the shadows I am noticeable. I apologize for my state, my liege.”

She dipped into a bow, her right ankle had now been tucked behind her calf in order to stabilize herself. Her form wobbled slightly but otherwise she appeared fine, small injuries she would eventually heal from that she could put off… But why did she feel ever so guilty for having shown up before Olosse in such a state?

Olosse’s eyes widened, back stiffening at the sight of his Shadowguard. If she hadn’t been in the state she presented herself in currently, he would want to get more information than just “All information has been confirmed”, but now his current priority was to ensure that Iris got the medicine she needed. The future king needed Iris at her best for tomorrow evening’s potentially fiery ball. He strode over to Iris, placing a hand on her cheek and wiped away some of the caked blood, clicking his tongue off the roof of his mouth.
“No need to apologize, Iris. Come, let’s get you the attention you need.” He thought he had seen Iris’ eyes fall on the now silently sleeping Rowena, prompting a flip of the wrist.
“Don’t worry about her. Rowena might have enjoyed the evening, but something tells me that she’s more of an evening companion than a permanent one. Let’s see what we can do to get you back in action.”

Albeit Iris probably would protest at Olosse’s fussing, he helped her over to an overstuffed chair by the window he had previously occupied before peeking his head out of the doorway to his quarters and asking the guard posted there to fetch him bandages, alcohol and other assorted medical paraphernalia that prompted an almost stream of questions, Olosse holding up a hand to cease the line of questioning and inferred that his amorous activities had become very Vadrudorian and needed the appropriate recovery methods. This stopped the questioning and brought supplies to his quarters, which allowed for Olosse to kneel at Iris’ feet, grimacing slightly at her ankle.
“Dear Iris, what on earth happened out there?” Father had insisted that Olosse learn basic battlefield skills in case he was ever thrust into a conflict without his Shadows or the Ishmeldian regiments at his beck and call, one of those skills being basic (BASIC) medical assessment and wound dressing.
“I can patch you up with what little I know; don’t bear too much of a grudge if it’s not comparable to your knowledge…which it isn’t.” As he began to roll up Iris’ legging, he ran a hand over her exposed ankle and shin. Goodness her skin was practically flawless, glowing even; it was then he realized this was the most exposure of her body that he had ever seen.
“Now, as I take care of this, do be more specific. What exactly did you confirm on your tour of the capital?”

In that moment as his finger wiped away a few droplets of blood that had seeped through the crack in her mask she couldn't help but find her breath catch in her chest. This mask, it had become her own face within her mind. She only took off the mask when the darkness of night covered her form, when shadow was its thickest. There were no candles, lamps or windows in any room she occupied... Nor did she ever have a mirror within it that wasn't covered by a cloth. This mask was the only face she knew now... So this intimate act of his thumb rubbing over her 'wound' sent shivers down her spine and caused her skin to be covered in goosebumps.

Why... Why was she having such a a reaction to this? Had there been something on the mans fist when he had struck her? Some sort of drug that caused this? She didn't understand why her body was reacting so strangely. It was unnatural... But for some reason she didn't hate it.

What Iris did hate was the sight of this Rowena sleeping ever so soundly in his bed... Her eyes quickly averted from the sight before her, her throat tightening as she was forced by her liege to take a seat.

"I am not worried my liege... Perhaps just a bit startled as this is the first time I've seen the aftermath of your adventures. Usually the maidens you keep, well, they're usually wrapped in a bedsheet running back to their quarters by the time I witness them."

Her tone sounded playful but it was ever so slightly off, perhaps a bit bitter in nature despite her inability to see the signs right in front of her face. Her heart knew... It always knew.

As he went to have someone fetch the first aid that would be needed to address her injuries she couldn't help but feel almost prideful. His father's lessons had stuck with him it seemed, they had helped him grow up to become quite the leader... But now it also helped her see that he wasn't the young boy she had initially been introduced to when she had joined the kings Shadowguard; he was a man.

Before she could delve further into such thoughts the question of just what happened to her crashed through her mind, bringing her back to reality and to the fact that he was now touching her bare skin. Another shiver ran up her spine as she found herself coming to the same realization as Olosse had come to.

But she had a job to do, her mind refocusing on the task at hand as he began to patch her up.

"My liege, I... I was discovered by a rival faction of the Vikar down by the port. It's not just the bludless that have been inciting chaos and debauchery, nor are the rumors complete. It's... it's so much worse. There is unrest within the entire city. Propaganda has been spread through each city section faster than the guard can strip them down, the people are starving due to their food being confiscated if they do not choose a secret allegiance with another faction. Rations don't make it to the people so those with children have been... They've been selling their precious children into slavery. The port... It's filled with ships bringing these children God knows where. I couldn't... I couldn't stop the boats, I couldn't stop those ruffians from taking them."

Behind the mask a few tears streamed down her cheeks as she remembered their shouts for help... All she could do was ensure those still at the port could never use their fingers ever again.

"This place is a war zone my liege, what we've been sent into intentional or not is a suicide mission. This place, it's one act from the Vikar away from the people revolting. If we cannot persuade the Vikar to sit down with all the factions and make a deal, this will all be for naught. We are sitting in a powder keg that has a torch fast approaching... We can try to save it, but doing so will risk our lives in this process even more so than I thought earlier. We have enemies on all sides, there is no one we can trust besides ourselves... I will support whatever decision you wish to make, I will fight till my last breath to see your plans succeed... But I will also spirit you home if that's what you should wish."

Her eyes that had been locked onto her lap moved to the man before her, wincing a bit in pain as the adrenaline seemed to be wearing off.

"What... What do you wish to do my liege?"

Olosse wrapped her ankle with the bandages, his eyes bouncing from what he was doing (didn't want to mess this up) to Iris' mournful gaze. It was odd to see her emote, let alone cry; no, odd wasn't the right word. Humanizing, maybe? Yes that was it. Iris had, no doubt due to her occupation, managed to keep herself at arms length (and then some) from the prince, allowing Olosse to see her as a valuable tool, yes, but as a person with emotions, dreams and aspirations? Not always. There had been a few moments in the last several years where he had seen brief flickers of passion spark from behind her normally stoic masquerade, so to see this...well, Olosse was moved.

Wrapping up her ankle completely, he grimaced, wiping the tears that were visible from her face (touching more skin in the process...humanizing indeed) before allowing a few moments of silence to pass between them, the only other noises in the room piercing the silence being Rowena's once-again ragged gasps for air and the gentle breeze the fluttered the curtains on the patio that Iris had made her appearance on.
"The Vikar must be in more dire straits than we thought." He stood up, hair rustling.
"Nowhere in the Vadrudorian annals that I've read indicate that child slavery was ever a tactic in the past...it makes me wonder if we haven't walked in on something much more complex than we knew." Iris' words about Arel rang through his mind.
"You mentioned rations? And unrest? If the city is a tightened bow ready for the arrow to be launched, I wonder how desperate Rakuhor is for this alliance...and if this alliance is borne out of necessity rather than actual long term political gain. I certainly wouldn't want us to sign this treaty only for the Ishmeldian regiments to get pulled out of the kingdom to quell an insurrection that we weren't warned about." Olosse had begun pacing in the middle of this semi-monologue, armed folded across his bare chest, hand cupping his chin. He paused in the center of the room.
"Then again, this could all just be a front for something much more sinister and if there's anything Father taught me, it's that the first impression of a thing is normally the farthest from the truth of a matter." The liege in waiting turned to face Iris fully.
"You said that you were spotted?" He chuckled, motioning to her.
"Well of course you were, you got into quite a scrape." He tapped his foot a couple of times, eyes looking her over.
"And yet you managed to let those in the Bludless and those helping them understand that their actions are not only being watched, but threatened, which will only accelerate their desire to make good on their plans, whatever they are." A pause.
"Which then means that tomorrow night's banquet will be a prime target for their hypothetical 'storming of the castle'." He huffed a sigh, shaking his head as he cast a glance at the patio.
"Iris, darling, I have a favor to ask of you." He motioned to the patio, index finger pointed at the cityscape beneath.
"I need you to accompany me into the city. I want to go to a specific tavern, one that I've frequented in the past when I was...well, I don't think I asked you to accompany me to said tavern, but I do know that there are many, many unsavory characters who might be willing to give us more of a 'boots on the ground' perspective so to speak." He cleared his throat, cheeks flushing. Olosse had indeed visited this tavern multiple times, without his shadowguard or anyone else knowing for...specific visits to specific individuals of the opposite gender. Along the way he had forged a few connections with those who were more than content to keep his identity a secret in exchange for generous contributions to the tavern's upkeep. As a future liege in waiting, he knew that having unsavory connections could and would pay off; it just so happened this might be one of those times.
"All I would ask is that you take two of the others with us and the three of you remain in the shadows until I signal for you to appear, if at all. Allow me to work the locals and see what information I can find out. If all goes well, we might be able to get some solid evidence I can present at tomorrow's signing and get the truth out of Rakuhor." A slight smile creased his youthful face.
"I can feel the anxiety welling up inside of you already and I assure you, this isn't a request, my dear. It's an order. I need your help now more than ever." He approached her chair, kneeling across a foot or so away.
"But feel free to give me advice before we venture out; if there's anything I'm missing, I'd love to know." Olosse stared deep into Iris'..well, irises, and found himself wondering what lay behind that mask, what features HE was missing out on viewing. It was difficult to read one's expressions when hidden behind something like the Shadowguard's uniform, but he was especially curious about his own guard more than ever.

Anxiety... It was such a small piece of the emotions welling up within her.

He was determined, she knew that ever so much from the look in his eyes, but even though it was an order she was still apprehensive to obey it. But he was right, they needed information more so now than ever before, especially with the ball coming up the next evening. She could hide in the shadows, she could still keep him safe in her current state, but at the ball... No, she wouldn't be able to protect him like that.

Her lips thinned, silence reigned over the room as she contemplated her next words and steps very carefully. It'd be risky... But she could still hide her face, especially if they could stop by a shop or two whilst they were out.

A heavy sigh of defeat escaped her lips as Iris' eyes turned to Olosse's own, her right hand going up to adjust her mask ever so slightly to help it stay on. The full faced white mask had been heavily damaged, exposing more skin than ever before... Luckily she always had back ups waiting for her in her belongings.

"My liege... I can assure your safety at the tavern, especially with the help of my fellow shadows. But this ball, if you are correct and they choose to retaliate... I need to be closer to you than in the shadows."

Iris hesitated on her next words, the slightest hint of a blush showing through the cracked and missing portions of her mask exposed to his sight.

"Permit me to be your companion to the ball tomorrow evening... I know obtaining proper attire on such short notice will be difficult, you can dock my wages for however much it will cost but I... I will not leave your side tomorrow night, request or order be damned."

Iris' eyes were filled with determination, her heart racing as she thought of everything that could go wrong... But all of those things she could prevent as long as they were together.

"When we go out tomorrow... Will you permit us to make a detour to the shopping district afterwards?"

Olosse's brow shot up at her first request, staying fixed in surprise at the second. He chortled, eyes sparkling.
"Did you...did you just ask to go shopping, Iris?" Another chortle, this time a bit louder.
"Oh of course! We must make sure you appear up to snuff, which won't be very difficult given who you'll be around." Thankfully Rowena did not stir at the slightly derogatory comment about Vadrudorian aesthetics.
"It's a good ploy, of course. Many will be on guard around you, especially with the reputation the Shadows have among the general populace, but if they get to see you unfettered from...that-" He motioned at her uniform.
"They'll absolutely be more spirited, maybe even let slip a few things we can file away for later. To think that Iris, my stalwart defender, will be my companion. I'm tickled." Olosse walked to a nearby dresser, opening the heavy wooden drawer at the very top.
"But I'm afraid we'll have to go through business first, won't be? I'll need you to look very Shadowy and menacing if it comes to it. Find the two other guards that are probably around here somewhere and meet me down at the Vikar's Light. It's in the Victory quarter, closest to the harbor and the least civilized part of the capitol. When I arrive, follow me inside and do not engage with anyone until I say so. I'll need to grease some palms and spin a few lewd yarns, so I'm not expecting trouble, but if we do, I'll be sure to let you know." Olosse withdrew garb fit for the occasion: a blue short-sleeved shirt with a ruffled collar and sandals that had trails of dirt stuck to the bottom. The pants would stay on. His eyes caught Iris once more, drawing closer to her and putting a hand on her shoulder.
"I can't thank you enough for all you've done so far. The dirty work of politics is unseemly at best." A smile.
"Which is why I cannot wait to see you in a ballgown. I'm suspect you'll enjoy the night off from blood and villainy...although I suppose you'll be encountering the latter tomorrow night, just more dressed up."

The Vikar's Light was a two-story building assembled with wooden planks, nails and apparently a lack of geometric awareness. The tavern's walls weren't properly rectangular or square nor did the building sit level, but instead sloped upward almost 30 degrees ,providing a very strange seating arrangement inside where tables stood at odd angles and dartboards mounted on the peak of the slope were there for the sport of seeing who could actually make five darts stick in a row. The trappings of a seedy tavern (dirt, soot, fluids of a questionable nature, sweat, etc) were all present, Olosse's nose wrinkling upon entering. It had been at least a year or so since he had come to visit Malaya, wondering silently if she was occupied (and he hoped she was. He wouldn't want Iris to see his more...well, hopefully she was busy).
"Well, our favorite piece of royal scum comes to visit after all this time, eh?!" A man with massive forearms and an even larger chest stood behind the bar, face flush with heat and activity, beard wagging.
"Jove in the flesh! Wonderful, wonderful, the place hasn't lost the crust yet!" A few chuckles from the regulars as Olose sauntered to the bar, the duo clasping hands with the former's right hand finding itself occupied with a handful of coin, earning Olosse a grateful nod.
"How long will you be gracing us with your presence till you go to visit-"
"Oh hush, hush, Jove, let's talk business for a minute." Olosse leaned forward, Jove mirroring the liege's posture.
"What in the bloody continent's name is going on at the docks, Jove?" A grunt as the large man leaned back, shaking his head, motioning to the tavern.
"A people oppressed, your liege, a people tired of it's oppressors."
"Here here!" Some of the regulars echoed.
"So much so that your children are commodities?" A grimace.
"It's better than what they have here." Olosse's hands gripped the counter.
"You're doing this on purpose?" Jove leaned forward again, forearms on the counter.
"Whatever you heard about the docks isn't all it seems. The Altans-"
"The bloody pirates?!"
"Keep your voice low, your liege." Olosse remained silent.
"One and the same, the Atlans offer us safe passage, families and children alike, from here to the Isles." The Isles of Manka were a part of the Iron Collective, a small cluster of land masses about 50 leagues off the coast that have been a haven for pirates, mercenaries and other ne'er do wells, but also a great place for those who want to hide .
"What could be so important to enact such a scheme?" Jove shook his head.
"Can't say much."
"Sure you can. With enough co-"
"No amount of coin in the world is going to stop what's coming to that blight Rakuhor." Chairs scraped behind Olosse as several men surrounded him.
"We know what you're here to do, Prince; call it off and get out of the city now. Stay, and your mother won't be mourning just your fa-" Olosse withdrew a dagger strapped underneath his shirt from it's holster hanging on his lower back and lunged over the counter, tip at Jove's throat.
"I dare you to finish your sentence." The prince hissed, eyes aflame.
"You won't...leave here...alive..." Jove's adam apple danced against the blade held at his throat as he smiled, the crowd of men closing in on Olosse.
"Shadows! We're in for it, tonight!"

Iris couldn't find words as her face grew hotter and hotter with every mention of things she would've never thought to ever consider before. He had every right to be shocked; her? Shopping? It was so incredibly unlike her, the Shadowguard whose only possessions consisted of a measley tiny suitcase, to suggest such a thing. To also suggest going to the ball as well? She was sure the queen, whom had always insisted upon shopping with her, would faint at the mere notion she would not be the first to get to shop with her.

In fairness... She'd have to go shopping with Olosse's mother when they got back.

They would get back.

As he placed his hand upon her shoulder Iris felt her heart skip a beat, that smile... She could get lost within it.

"Of course my liege... How could I not enjoy my first ball when it is with you?"

It was a half truth, to say that. She had been to a ball, but only because her powers allowed her to escape from her guilded tower of Jewels and gems to witness such an event through a window. Surely that's why her heart was racing again... Because of the fact she would now be experiencing something her younger self has longed for. There was nothing else... Nothing else at all.

Iris couldn't remember how she had gotten back to her room or how she had fallen asleep, but it was a scramble to get ready as fast as she could. Luckily she had slept in her clothes, so whilst perhaps a bit creased they were still decent enough for a mission. But her mask was totalled, and for some reason she couldn't find any of her masks. She'd need to figure out where they had went later, but for now she took a few pins and placed a breathable black fabric within her hood and secured it as best she could. With that she set off, already far later on her journey to the tavern than she wished to be.

---

There was silence as Olosse announced the presence of the Shadowguard, some of the regulars cackling as they stalked closer to the prince. But then... The air froze, grew cold as the sun through the uneven windows drifted further and further from view. The shadows lengthened like tendrils of a creature from the bring deep, clouding the room id darkness save for the flickering of a few oil lamps that were lit further in.

Those flames swayed and swiveled, threatened to blow out and leave behind only the darkness that encroached all around them like a panther. There was no exit to be seen through the shadows, no place to truly hide from the Shadowguard that now suddenly stood behind her master. Iris appeared with the shadows, materializing from the void she had been waiting in for her signal. Her two men were standing outside on her command, waiting for a signal from her to storm in if need be. But right now, with all the men frightened and her liege safe, it was time she had her own questions answered.

"Did you think we were alone in this endeavor... Jove, was it?"

Iris stalked closer to the man, her face hidden behind a thin veil that had been secured in place within the folds of her hood. A faceless being that had appeared from the shadows would scare anyone, but what she hadn't anticipated was that his knowledge was particularly... Vast.

"No one but the royals of-"

"Aye, we have received their assistance... As well as the assurance of many others that this whole kingdom will burn to the ground should anything happen to my liege. That includes every single man, woman and child within... No one will be spared regardless of status, your families hunted down to the ends of the earth to ensure no one of this kingdom passes down it's blood. Ashes will remain only to the eyes of us victors, the history of everyone here written off in history books so that way no one will know you or your group ever existed. Your cause for naught... All because you decided to kill the wrong person."

Iris stood before the counter at Olosse's side, that piercing gaze unseen but certainly not unfelt. That murderous aura... It was why her reputation would forever be cemented in history. Iris hand reached into her pocket, the men tensing around her until they saw the glimmer of gold in her palm drop to the counter just between the two men.

"Whilst my... Associates, are unfeeling uncaring individuals, I myself have some semblance of a heart left in this chest. Instead of threats of bloodshed, how about we all sit down for a pint of ale and talk about this like gentleman. I'm not unreasonable Jove, and neither is my liege when given a proper reason why we should avoid something. Give us a good reason to turn tail... Give us a good reason that will allow us to head back. You can do that can't you?"

Iris sat down upon one of the barstools, the shadows begining to overtake the interior of the tavern which earned a few shouts of concern and worry from those who had been so ready to kill just moments ago.

"Be a good man and serve us and the entirety of the tavern... Won't you?"

An entire bag of gold coins was tossed seemingly out of nowhere from within the shadows, landing with a thud on the counter with the sound echoing throughout the darkness. This... This was a warning of what was to come if they threatened the life of her liege. Death unseen, no one would find their corpses to give them proper burials, their spirits adrift for eternity. Behind that midnight cloth those once hazel eyes glowed emerald green, if one looked very closely... Perhaps they'd be able to see it.

The tavern had grown eerily still as Iris and her squadron put a fearsome display of power in full view of Jove and his would-be assistants in assault, the door to the establishment slamming shut moments after Iris began to speak. Olosse himself had a few chills creep down his spine as he felt the power of his private guard begin to bristle with eager anticipation; indeed, he had actually been looking forward to seeing his guard (especially Iris) in full action, but her showmanship (showwomanship?) did the job well enough, Jove's once intimidating tone softening considerably:
"Ffffine, well and good." Olosse frowned.
"And here I was thinking that you all would get a very personal demonstration of why the Shadowguard of Ishmeldia is the most feared honorguard across the Continent. Ah well, maybe you and your motley crew will get the opportunity to watch, not participate." Olosse sheathed his dagger as he commanded:
"Stand down, Shadows. No blood, tonight...fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it." The tavern returned to it's grimy decor, door swinging open again.
"Now, let's return to the subject we were discussing in such a civil manner: the plot against Rakuhor. What might be the issue?" Jove grunted as he began filling tankards, sliding them down the counter to slightly trembling servers who frantically skittered off to fulfill Iris' request.
"Rakuhor has been making a lot of enemies lately. Horde's numbers are scattered, thinning. Old man thinks he can muscle the Iron Collective out of not just Manka, but trade ports all along the coast." Olosse cocked a brow.
"This is news to me."
"Think the old saw would want his shiny new trade partner to find out that the once proud Horde of Vadrudor is being relegated to strong-arming port guards and under-table deals? No no, liege, you're just the sword he wishes to wield." A pause, Jove's voice descending a few decibels:
"And the Bludless? They're just common folk, like me, like all the folk in here who just wan-" A sudden gurgle emerged from the tavern owner, foam and spittle flying out of his mouth as he seized violently, eyes rolling into the back of his head as a bluish light enveloped his massive form. Olosse jumped back, hand reaching for his dagger as the patrons and the prince watched in disgust as the bluish light turned crimson red, incorporeal hands forming out of the light and snapping the spine of Olosse's former conversation partner. All at once, the body collapsed to the floor, a lifeless heap.
"SORCERY!"
"MAGIC!"
With similar cries the patrons fled to the door, crashing into each other as they scattered nearly in unison, their panic echoing in the streets. Olosse, however, stood silently, mind racing.
"My, my; this is beginning to get far more complex than I imagined...or wanted." He motioned for Iris, wherever she was, to come to his side.
"My dear, you of all people should recognize the kind of magic at work here." While magic users were far and far between, his father had demanded that all three of his children study the annals of the Continent when it came to magic, knowing full well that the very, very few who could manipulate the fabric of the supernatural had brought the world to the brink of utter annihilation save for the intervention of other magic users, both groups fading into the ether over time. It was chilling to think that a magic user was present in the city, let alone one who was skilled in Evocation or the art of manipulating light, matter and the elements to create whatever they wished.
"Do you sense anything nearby in the shadows?"