[centre][b]Evening - Coeur Grain Warehouse[/b][/centre] --- It was rather unexpected to... cross paths once again with Prince Lucius. The fact that he was wounded came as no surprise. He did have a terrible habit of getting himself into trouble, more so than Daedhel did, though she guessed it was difficult to do anything but that as a wanted fugitive. There was a certain amount of relief to know he was still alive and the tiny amount of hope that came with that. While it was irritating he got his wounds tended to first she did allow it as he did seem to be in the worse state. It would be a shame if he died; she had quite hoped that it were ever to happen it might be at her hand. Murder was certainly at the forefront of her mind as she glared around at the occupants of the room. The pain was beginning to get to her and she'd rather it didn't get to the stage where she was overly weakened. Her gaze was especially suspicious as it fell upon the green eyed girl who had accompanied Lucius. She knew nothing of this person and as a result did not trust her one bit. It did not matter that she trusted the Prince and he seemed to trust her. Dae had no reason to do so. "As you wish," Dae looked at Couer with narrowed eyes, putting down the knife she held. She also removed from her person the weapons that were easily reached. She could not guarantee that if she did not do this she would not kill upon having her wounds tended to. While, unlike Lucius, she had taken what was required to dull the pain and cloud her mind. Still, even in a slightly drunken state she was quite likely to attack and still succeed in causing the death of someone. "Do make it quick, I have more important places to be." That statement was not entirely true, as she was not yet sure what should would do upon having her wounds seen to. It depending on her state afterwards as to whether she stayed or not. She turned so that he could easily gain access to where she had been hit in the lower left shoulder. She gritted her teeth as he began the process of removing what had been lodged in there, refusing to scream as the Prince had. She would not show that kind of weakness. After what seemed like far too long it was over, her wounds bound. Everything was already beginning to swim across her eyes as it was over and the words that followed where now muffled. It seemed she would not be leaving that night. Giving in, though she was reluctant to do so, she allowed herself to slump into unconsciousness, all energy gone. --- [centre][b]Mid-Morning - Coeur Grain Warehouse [/b][/centre] --- When Daedhel woke her first reaction was to jump into a crouch, knife in hand. A sharp pain shot through her shoulder drawing a wince from her lips. Eventually the night before came back to her and she realised where she was. Ah. Lowering her arm she went to collect the weapons she had removed the night before and glanced over herself appraisingly. She was certainly not in the best state but she was quite sure she was more than able to leave now. However it would be dangerous. She was quite sure they would still be searching for her, at least if she crossed paths with one of the order of St Melitas she would be arrested. She didn't particularly want to take that risk. Eyes like ice darting around her location they quickly zoned in on some of the occupants, namely Lucius and the girl that had been with him the night before. She was curious as to what had caused the wounds from the night before. Of course, there could be many reasons. And she was quite sure he was already recovering. She approached the two, face wearing nothing more than a displeased frown. "What brings you back to Voltas, Lucius?" She tilted her head, a slight glare flashed in Ona's direction. Her trust in this person had certainly not increased overnight; there hadn't exactly been any reason for that to happen. "Starting a revolution? Are you going to try to sort everything out?" Her tone was surprisingly neutral. "I'm more than happy to aid in the... untimely death of certain high placed people. Although that will happen in due time anyway." The sudden change was noticeable while before she had been passive and now everything about her was aggressive, the flash to her blue eyes, the slight upwards curve to her lips, the graceful way she stood and the hand that brushed across her knife as her gaze once again flashed to the Prince's companion. "Who is she?" --- [centre][b]Mid-Morning - Commoner's District - Voltas[/b][/centre] --- A thick cloud of grief hung over the air, broken only by the ringing of metal and stifling heat. The reduced number in the room was impossible to ignore. The pressure with one missing was not the biggest worry. The night before had been one of the worst. The riots had caused so many deaths... Everyone had lost someone. The shop itself had came out surprisingly unscathed. But one apprentice had not. Though Corisande was sad for the loss of Dion, who had been her friend and fellow apprentice, she was glad she remained alive. If she was not an apprentice in this place then she doubted she would have survived the night living on the streets as she once had. Shaking her head slightly she blinked away the tears that had been trying to escape her eyes since she had woken early. There was no use in crying. She felt physically and mentally drained, with her workload only increasing. It was only made worse with the thought of the dinner she had been invited to on the horizon. She did not understand the reason she had received this invite and did not want to enter into the dangerous world of the politics of the nobility. And she was quite sure it had something to do with that. As she finally finished what she had been working on, stretching out her back and taking a short break she heard her name being called. Her gaze flickered over to where the shop owner stood beckoning her over. She put down her tools, biting her lip as she approached him. "We need to get you ready for tonight," he spoke in a gruff voice. "Don't want you turning up all covered in sweat and grime. And you're going to have to change into something smarter. You're going to bath, and change. But don't think that's you got a break till the evening. You're going to man the front until you have to leave. Understood?" "Yes, sir," Corisande replied quietly. "Good." He led her through the back, into the attachment that had been turned into a living quarters for those that needed it. While he was often harsh, and worked them hard, Corisande would be eternally grateful for him. He had given her job, and a place to stay, and was letting her fulfil her dream. "Everything's in there." He indicated to a doorway leading into a smaller room. "Don't take too long, don't waste water and come out as soon as you're done." She nodded, heading past him into the room. Soon she was scrubbing herself down, removing as much dirt as possible from her light golden skin. It was difficult, as so much had seeped in from long months of minimal cleaning, but she did a good enough job. Her jet black hair was no easier to wash and eventually she gave, allowing the short strands to remain as scruffy as they always were. She quickly dressed in the clothes that had been left for her. They were far from fancy, a simple tunic and trousers. They were nicer than her normal clothes, more colourful, and hung loosely off her thin frame. It was obvious they were made for someone with more muscle on them and slightly taller. But she did not have any other options. She received a grin from the blacksmith as she headed out into the shop. "Much better, almost acceptable for the company of nobles. You almost look like a girl when cleaned up." Corisande gave a nervous smile. She only hoped that statement was merely an offhand comment rather than a suspicion. She wasn't sure what would happen if that secret got out.