Studying the Prince for a long moment before bowing at the waist to a polite degree. [color=SlateBlue]"No evidence, no survivors."[/color] The soft voice agreed as she lifted the hood and mask back into place. [color=SlateBlue]"It shall be as you command, Your Highness."[/color] There was nothing more to be said as she slid the pins that held her hood in place into her braided coronet braid. Turning on her heel, the drow stalked from the War room, once more a wraith cloaked in the darkness of cloth. Keeping pace with Faira, she spoke in her quiet tone once more. An almost nervousness to her words. [color=SlateBlue]"You will keep what you saw within that room to yourself, yes? There are reasons I am so hidden, even from the Prince's Guard. It would be appreciated. I shall meet you at the Western Gate."[/color] Though those reasons were not necessarily geared towards the Prince's best interest. [i][color=SlateBlue]But I am not acting against him or this Empire of Man. There is no reason to unless my orders change and with the Prince the heir to the throne that is unlikely. Thus my job is to make sure the Prince ascends the throne when the time comes and keep him there until I am recalled.[/color][/i] The thought was a comforting one as she strode from Faira and out of the Keep. She was more than ready to go and scout, but there had been some benefits to being kept from the wall. She would not need the time to gather her kit as Faira might.

So, Zatana flowed up onto the gabled roofs of the houses as soon as she could duck into the shadows. Roof walking was a skill she enjoyed, and it cleared her mind and centered her spirit. Crouched as she was, she spider walked across the shingles, careful not to make noise as she slipped down onto a slightly lower roof. Her mare was at the West Gate in case a sally might be needed, had been since the bells and fighting noise had clamored. It was one of the tricks Zatana had encouraged in the mare. Find her when there was trouble unless she was stated to do otherwise. A signal of reins on the ground to stay. Which the wicked beast had not been given and so had sought out the way she had seen her rider go.

The wicked drow on the wicked mare. Well, that would be another thing for the soldiers of Burgkoff to talk about. As if they did not have enough. It was a worry they had found out so soon and she did not like to think of the consequences of it, though Zatana knew it was something she would need to consider. Pausing as she heard voices below, she silently slid to perch on the ledge of one of the roofs to peer below. The feminine voice was unfamiliar, but there was a sickening sweetness to it that reminded Zatana of the young dark elf girls who were playing their dangerous games of favors with a young man foolish enough to be naive to fall for it. Dangling a foot over the edge she tapped the paper familiar and gestured. Breathing slightly. [color=SlateBlue]"Record this."[/color] She encouraged the record keeper with a grin behind her dark mask. Lowering herself, she tucked herself into a slight nook under the eaves of a roof to study the scene for a few minutes before continuing on her way. It would be hard enough to see her, with her dark clothing in even darker shadow? She was a wraith for good reason.