Despite the wash of clear silvery light that spilled from the face of the full moon, the night air hung muggy and warm, punctuated with the chirping of many nightly insects. Within the royal chambers of the King and Queen of the kingdom of Lethvia, the Lady Ismari stirred restlessly beneath the covers within the four poster bed, an almost silent sigh passing through her lips as she stared at the canopy overhead and listened to the gently rumbling snores of the King laying close by. She often found herself coping with troubles sleeping, So it was not surprising in the least when she came to the conclusion that sleep would continue to be an elusive companion until she had had the opportunity to relax more fully. Which meant only one thing: a walk in her private garden.

Quietly as she could manage, the young woman slid out from between the sheets and rose from the downy mattress, fingers reaching instantly for a dressing gown she kept hanging from a peg nearby for just such an occasion. Stepping into a pair of silk slippers, Queen Ismari gathered her golden tresses back into a loose ponytail that trailed down one of her shoulders before she quietly slipped through The door in the bedroom, slowly closing it behind her, and headed towards a pair of rose colored glass doors that faced out onto the immaculate palace gardens awash in moonlight. Almost as soon as she stepped out into the close night air, a soft smile of contentment spread across her lips as her gaze swept around the flowers and bushes, Immediately lingering on some of her favorites. Gathering her robe close to her body, the queen began to move among the carefully tended flora on silent slippered feet, her fingers trailing over the petals of blossoms, the leaves of The foliage.

She never saw the figure that slowly stepped up behind her.

The shadow reached out with both arms carefully, the left hand glinting with the reflection of the moon's light off a blade they gripped in a gloved hand. As the queen bent over a blooming rose to sniff at its distinctive fragrance, the stranger closed strong fingers tightly around her mouth and chin, the blade of the knife sliding across her exposed throat, The skin parting easily and spilling Crimson over her neck and chest, droplets falling among the rosebush.  The queen gave a small jerk of surprise at the contact, fingers flying fruitlessly to scrabble at the hand clutching her face, a muffled scream managing to escape. But her useless struggles quickly began to slow, Her body growing limp, and the black garbed figure quietly released their hold and allowed the dying woman to crumple to the ground, not making a sound as they watched her choking and writhing limply at their feet. As she finally grew still, eyes glazing over, the figure’s hold on the knife was released, dropping the blood spattered weapon onto the ground near the corpse of the queen. Without a word, the assassin turned away from the quickly cooling body, slipping back into the shadows and disappearing back into the night once more.

They found her body after several hours had passed, dawn light beginning to touch the world as the sun rose over the mountains. One of the palace gardeners, a diligent man who always appeared first thing in the morning to attend the queen's favorite plants, discovered the body soon after he began trimming the rosebushes, immediately sending up the alarm. Guardsmen swiftly gathered to investigate, the king notified, and the investigations commenced. But after one of the Younger recruits inspected the bloody knife that had been discovered by the body, instant recognition blossomed across his face and a look of true terror lit his eyes. It was shortly after this that the pounding on the captain's door began...

Despite the fact that she had the morning off, the second in command overseeing dawn rotations, force of a long formed habit had driven Edith Vandilla, Captain of the Queen’s personal guard, from the warmth of her bed. She had dressed in a simple pair of breaches and tunic, done her chestnut colored hair back into a long braid that traced her spine, and had just finished tugging on her boots when the hammering started on her chamber door.

“What is going on?” Edith muttered to herself as she finished lacing up her boots quickly and hurried into the front room of her chambers.

She had hardly made her way halfway across the room when the door was slammed with such an outward force, that the wood splintered around the handle and lock, forcing the door open to slam against the wall. Edith’s entire body froze with shock for a split second before she instinctively reached for the sword at her belt that wasn’t there. Head whipping around to locate her scabbard, she froze once more as a dozen armor clad soldiers hurried forward into the room, quickly spreading out before her. Blue eyes sweeping over the figures, Edith was surprised to note that, Though the majority of the soldiers were of the palace guard, four were clad in the gold and white armor of her own Queen’s guard. What’s more, her second in command was present, though he ought to be overseeing other duties. Their eyes met and there was nothing friendly in the look on the other‘s face.

“What is the meaning of this?“ Edith demanded in a steely voice that, though not raised, caused the other queens guard to shift uncomfortably.

Her second, Lionel Millgrant, was the one to answer her question, stepping forward. “Traitor to the Palace and her throne, we have come to arrest you for the murder of her highness Queen Ismarie Nandier. As Proof of your Heynis crimes, your own ceremonial dagger was discovered near her body.“

Edith felt as if the world were slipping out from beneath her feet, her head spinning. Her queen was dead? She had failed? Falling numbly to her knees, the Captain barely registered any further words, her head buzzing with questions and shock. She didn’t fight the restraints placed upon her wrists nor the guiding hands clamped tight on her upper arms. She found she couldn’t answer any questions posed to her, though the interrogation seemed to go on For endless hours, and was eventually locked away in a cell beneath the palace, left alone with a musty cot and her wild thoughts.

[I]’I have failed.‘[/I]