Calliope blinked, staring at the door Alexander had just left through. She had remained silent through his words, somewhat in shock of what was happening. She held tightly to the dagger in her hand, the hilt smooth and solid in her grip. Turning to look out the window once more, she found herself almost mesmerized by marching of the army. In the mood that she was in, Calliope found it hard to care that the house under attack. So she stayed at the window, watching numbly as the army got closer. She saw them break down the gates to the manor as easily as a child knocks over a stack of wooden blocks. She watched them approach, the house guards no match for their numbers. She didn't see much more after that, for the door to her room opened.
Now, there was one very important part of Alexander's words to her that Calliope had simply not seemed to have heard. After her guard had left, she had not locked the door as he had instructed. She only remembered what he had told her to do as the door creaked open. Slowly, Calliope turned, her hands dropping to her sides. Her heart began to beat faster...
"Lady?" A woman Calliope's age came into the room. Calliope breathed a sigh of relief. It was only one of the maids. Not one she knew very well, but she had seen the maid around quite a bit.
Calliope brought her free hand to her chest as the woman shut the door. "Oh. It's only you. You startled me. What-what are you doing?" The question was in response to the maid not looking or behaving particularly maid-like. Indeed, the woman strode quite confidently into the room, all the while playing with a length of what looked like wire in her hands. The woman didn't answer, just quickly moved towards Calliope. Forgetting the dagger that was still clenched in one hand, hidden by the folds of her nightdress, Calliope backed away, her heart suddenly racing again. She felt her back hit a wall as the woman reached her; the wire was slipped quickly and efficiently around her neck, and then...
The woman dropped to the floor. Calliope sank to the ground, staring at the dagger sticking out of the woman's chest. Calliope's white nightgown was smeared with the maid's blood, her neck a bit bruised where the wire had began to tighten. She didn't remember what had happened, but she could see the results. Calliope rocked back and forth on the floor, her breathing fast and erratic. She had never seen someone die before. She had almost been killed, she had just killed someone. Tears slid down her face, and she began to sob; shaking, horrible sobs that seemed to tear themselves from her throat no matter how she tried to be quiet.