Jax Marchant opened his hard blue eyes upon completion of the morning's meditation. Loving the relaxed-yet-ready-for-anything feeling that followed his morning practice of sword forms and meditation, he looked deliberately around his spacious quarters to take note that everything was exactly as it had been when he had closed his eyes. Not that anything was likely to have been moved, as nobody else was in his quarters at the moment. That he knew of, anyway - you could hardly ever be too sure in his line of work.

Some thought his practice a little odd, but only because they'd never tried it. Sitting on the ground instead of in a proper chair, with one's eyes closed, remaining perfectly motionless for ten to twenty minutes, focusing on nothing but one's own breath, seemed a little quirky at best, and at worst a great waste of time. Jax found however, that learning to observe and ignore the unimportant sensations and thoughts that arose during such practice, and focusing entirely on a thing taken so utterly for granted, lent him a superior ability to focus on the important things, and the details that were so often overlooked.

A crucial ability, when the responsibility of keeping a queen safe rested on your shoulders.

Standing up, Jax Marchant, Captain of the Queen's Guard, was careful to straighten his gold-embroidered, white collared shirt into his cleanly pressed white trousers, and sat in the chair at his desk to tug his boots on, maneuvering his sword-belt so as to not catch it in the chair back. It was mid-morning, and he was in no rush; he still had a few papers on his desk to go over before the morning's report was expected. It would be given by Joatham this morning, the newest member of the Guard, who had been given charge over the queen's safety on the midnight-to-mid morning shift. Some thought it was a difficult shift due to the obvious tendency to be sleepy, but Jax felt it was the easiest shift - the queen wasn't interacting with anyone in her sleep. No need to look closely for hidden weapons on anyone, no need to watch their hands intently as they approached Ismari, just stand outside her door until she woke up. The only other way into her room was through her private gardens just outside the royal quarters, but of course those had high walls and locked gates with their own contingent of the Queen's Guard to watch them. Nobody was going to fall out of the sky into her gardens with a sudden murderous intent on the Queen. The only way to be more sure of her safety while she slept would be to stand at the foot of her bed, but that was unnecessary. Though sometimes, he almost wished that were standard protocol. It was actually, during times of war or otherwise obviously sensitive times for the Queen's safety, but these were not such times.

The captain turned in his chair to address the papers on his desk and tensed immediately when someone started knocking - pounding, really - at the door to his quarters. Either someone was a rude idiot, Joatham was here to give his report half an hour early, or something was urgent. In the royal palace, it was unlikely to be either of the first two options.

Springing from his chair, he made his way quickly from his study to the front room of his quarters.  Halfway through the front room however, the pounding stopped and the door flew inward off it's hinges with a loud crunch. Jax's sword was out of it's scabbard and in a high ready-guard position before the door hit the floor, and instead of freezing timidly as an untrained man would do, he rushed forward ready to give a bold and violent surprise to whoever had the nerve... 

...if the queen had been harmed...

...Jax froze, ten feet away from the now door-less doorway, looking past his sword at about two-dozen of his own men, Joatham at their lead. Their swords weren't bared, but seeing him with his out and ready caused every man's hand to reach for his own. Jax did the calculations without thinking and in the blink of an eye; his chances would be decent if this were a group of untrained thugs, but it wasn't. He had seen to the training of each one of these men. He may be able to kill four, six at most before he was overwhelmed. He could see them do the same calculation in the same moment. The ones in front knew they would die, but the looks on their faces were not of fear. They looked like men ready to die doing their job. They were good men.

Jax lowered his sword to a low ready-guard, but remained tense. Not to mention livid.

"What is the meaning of this!?!" He yelled.

Joatham answered, obviously nervous but resolute, "we found the queen's body in her gardens, sir." Jax's heart dropped into his stomach, his sword dropping completely to the floor as the tension in his arms melted entirely. Her body? "And this was found on the ground nearby" said Joatham quietly as he raised his left hand, right hand still on his sword, to reveal a bloody knife. The ornamental knife of the Captain of the Queen's guard.

Jax's heart went from his stomach to the floor as he fell to his knees. He had failed. How? How had someone gotten to the queen in her own gardens? How had anyone been able to pass the sentries? Who would do this? Why? Why was he being framed? How could his own men possibly believe he could be responsible? How had he failed? How?

How?

His mind filled with questions, for once in his life Jax was speechless as his own men escorted him to the palace prison for an interrogation. Unable to respond to questioning, completely absorbed with the questioning he was giving himself in his own mind, the Queen's Guard shut their own Captain in a cell under the palace for the murder of the queen. As they left, they told him they would return the next day to resume the questioning and they would get answers the hard way if they had to. He would be put to death if he couldn't convince them he didn't kill the woman he was honor-bound to protect.

Alone, Jax sat on the floor of his cell, closed his eyes, and started to meditate. He was going to figure this out.

And someone - some murderous coward - was going to pay.