Leona entered the steaming bathroom, and undid the lace holding the bath robe loosely around her slim figure. "By the Graces, Claire, are you trying to boil me like a lobster?" she asked in a playful tone. "I'd hoped it would warm you up after your little walk outside, your majesty," Claire responded, moving behind Leona and pulling the loosened robe from her shoulders. "Ah, of course. You're always so thoughtful, Claire. I don't know what I would do without you," Leona said, giving her servant a warm smile.
Claire blushed, and bowed deeply. "Th-thank you, your majesty," she said humbly, feeling the blood rushing to her face. As she left the bathroom, closing the door behind her, she immediately used her fingers to comb back the few strands of hair that had fallen in front of her face. With a brief shake of her head, she grabbed the empty bottle and tray of food, proceeding out of the royal chamber.
That's strange. Normally, there's a guard or two posted around here doing his rounds, she thought, glancing around the main hall as she proceeded toward the kitchen.
What uneasy feeling is this? Are the followers of Mideia back? She thought, noting the unease in her gut.
Cautiously, she stepped into the kitchen, which had already closed down for the night. Setting the tray down quietly, and picking up a large chef's knife, she held it closely to her as she moved back toward the hall. She heard a soft rustling noise followed by light, quick footsteps behind her. With a skill none would have assumed she had, she spun on her heel and pointed the knife in the direction of the sounds with a panicked screech.
"Oh, fuck off!" she said, tilting her head and lowering the blade at the sight of the mouse coming out of the open bag of flour. "Gods above and below! Nearly gave me a heart attack, you did!" she said, picking the miniscule creature in her thick hands, dwarfing it entirely. She popped open the window above the kitchen sink, and let the mouse go outside.
This bag of flour is ruined now. I need to throw that out lest her majesty get sick from some corrupted toast, she thought as she tied the fresh hole in the bag shut.
She carried the bag through the back door and toward the dumpster where she knew it would be picked up in the morning. Off in the distance, she could just see the front gate of the palace. Squinting her eyes through the snowflakes that now fell in much larger quantities, she could just barely make out the lifeless bodies of the two guardsmen with a light coating of snow.
What the…? How the…? The-... they're dead? I need to warn someone! If this is anything like that night with those freaks from the Church, I need to keep quiet. Thorsen. I need to find Thorsen. He'll know what to do, she thought in her panic, trying her best to keep from screaming.
Quietly moving back inside, the weight of her predicament closed in around her.
There are no guardsmen around. At least none that are still alive. Whoever is doing this has likely silenced all possible alarms and is likely on the lookout for anything that could pose a threat. With my figure, I don't think I pose much of one, but I have to be careful. I won't get a second chance at running away. Not this time, she thought, putting her finger to her chin.
I don't have a lot of time. If the last time something like this happened was any indication, they'd be going for Leona. Shit! Leona! She panicked, grabbing the knife on her way back into the main hall.
Just as she opened the door, she saw Gwili ripping his sword out of something that confused her eyes. The impaled figure shimmered, though the blood spurt made it evident that this was, in fact, a person. Putting a hand to her mouth to stifle a scream, she nearly dropped the knife in the process.
Gwili, noticing her, put one finger to his lips in a shushing movement, shaking his head slowly. Nodding her compliance, Gwili motioned for her to follow him toward the stairway leading up to the royal bedchamber.
As quietly as she could, she moved over to him, tiptoeing her way across the vast, stone hall. "What are you doing here?" he whispered. "I was just bringing down her majesty's food tray when I noticed something was amiss," she whispered back. "Fuck. We need to get up there, now! Where the fuck is Thorsen?" he hissed as they moved up the stairs.
Claire shook her head. "I don't know either, I was about to go look for him and tell him about the two guards who died at the front gate," she whispered. Gwili's eyes widened briefly, then narrowed. "These sons of pig-fucking whores," he muttered. "No time. Catch up when you can, and if you see Thorsen, send him to the royal chamber," he said, his eyes solidified with mana as he dashed up the stairs at break-neck speed.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! Don't be late. Not this time, Gwili thought, leaning his head forward and picking up as much speed as he could in the tight corridors.
He turned down the final hall that led to the royal bedroom, and noticed the door was ever so slightly ajar. He heard a blood-curdling scream come from the bedroom, his stomach both churning and sinking in response.
No! Not again, he thought, giving himself a final burst of speed aimed at the crack in the door.
Bursting through the bedchamber, he reached the bathroom door, only to find a completely nude Leona struggling against a figure that was difficult to see, but not impossible with the steam that swirled around it. Without hesitation whatsoever, he dashed in behind the queen, slashing at the only portion he could see.
His sword cut multiple, clean slices through flesh and the cloak that seemed to distort the very air around it. Both Leona and whoever was holding her fell to the ground at the same time, only one was gasping for air, while the second now lay in a pile of twitching chunks of flesh.
"G-Gwili!" Leona coughed, not bothering to hide her nakedness as she pointed beside him. He lifted his sword up just in time to catch a curved blade barely visible through the steam. "You're both fast and extremely skilled if you could kill Jesra in what looked like a single blow," the baritone voice said, aiming another rapid sequence of strikes at the disgraced elf.
Shit, not only is he fast, but he's extremely hard to react to, even with the steam giving away his posi-... ow! Gwili's thoughts were cut off as multiple slashes suddenly appeared on his forearms.
"Who the fuck are you?" Gwili asked, grunting through the pain, blocking another incoming blow and getting in close enough to peer into Nizaam's eyes. "Why should I tell you who I am, Gwili Gwynn? I do find it quite ironic to ask a masked, nearly invisible person who they are," Nizaam taunted before landing another blow to Gwili's leg, forcing him to kneel before catching another slash aimed for his neck on his sword.
The elf allowed the slash to flow off the edge of his sword, and used his pommel to strike the figure in the groin. Doubling over momentarily, Nizaam sent his knee straight into Gwili's nose, breaking it and forcing his eyes to water. He caught himself before falling to the bathroom floor, and used what little momentum he had to swipe at the figure's midsection, forcing him back momentarily.
Gwili got into a guard on his knees, as he glanced over at where Leona had been just a few moments ago, only finding a slight shimmer in the mist instead. A smile dared to tug at the corner of his mouth, but it was quickly wiped away as yet another flurry of incoming blows sought his life. With their movements being as fast as they were, the steam began to dissipate.
Shit, I can hardly follow him even while having my senses enhanced with mana, he thought as he cut downward, hoping to strike his opponent.
Having cut nothing but air, he did get a chance to reposition himself between where he thought Leona was and her attacker. "You're going to lose this fight, elf. You don't have the might to stand against us," Nizaam said, now just barely visible. Gwili chuckled in response, eliciting a tilted head from the shimmering figure. "You laugh in the face of death? Perhaps I was wrong about you. You're not as cowardly as your history suggests," Nizam said, lifting his nose.
Gwili laughed even more defiantly as he felt a distant pulse of familiar mana. "Oh, no, no, no. I'm not that brave. I'm laughing because I didn't know death was nearly three meters tall with a thick beard and glowing eyes," he said, grinning maliciously. Within the confused heartbeat that followed, Nizam was flung out of the bathroom at a speed that could've rivaled the lightning god's and flew straight into the fireplace opposite the massive bed with an explosive crash.
"Thanks for holding him off. I'll take it from here," Thorsen said, tossing the torn cloak aside. "Not fair! I was just warming up! How the hell did you get here so fast? Did Claire find you?" the elf spat a mouthful of blood onto the tile floor and rolled his shoulder. "She did, but where's her majesty?" Thorsen asked. "I'm right here," she said, reappearing from behind the bathtub with blackened irises and sclera replacing her former blue ones.
Thorsen raised an eyebrow in response to her stealthiness. "A trick I learned from Gwili with this cloak, and by the Graces am I glad I did," she said, releasing her connection to the Ethereal as she was now wrapped in a cloak and armed with a small dagger she'd left just beside the tub.
"I couldn't react in time while I was in the bath, but thanks to him, I'll live to fight another day," she said, giving Gwili a grateful smile. Thorsen, however, was taken aback momentarily. "Is that the…? No, never mind, we'll talk later. For now, I'm glad you're alive," Thorsen said, returning his full focus onto the enemy before him.