Something is wrong.  Something is definitely wrong.

You see the clock strike 9 in the castle and nothing, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary has happened.  You step under the Queen’s balcony in the room and scan through the guests while you finish your glass of water. 

Just by their faces and the ways their eyes flicker with unrest, you have 8 suspects.

You eye the exits, thinking of the quickest way to let everybody out just in case anything happens.  Trailing at the staircases, the chandelier, and the huge door at the other end of the room, you nod to yourself in confirmation.

And then, setting down your glass without a sound, you look up at the Queen and find her meeting your eyes.  You give her a polite bow and your eyes go to the person sitting beside her.

Oh.

With an amused smirk on your face, you turn at your heel and consciously touch your black bag.  Slipping into the crowd, you pass behind your suspects and catch phrases of their conversation.

“.....package still isn’t in.....”

“.....too slow of a work.....”

“.....Kingdom’s security.....”

“Not everyday do we try to take the two packages, you know,”

At the sentence you bump onto the speaker and note his unusual surprise. 

“I’m sorry, I was a bit light headed.  Too much of those drinks,” You give a light, flirty giggle and pretend to crouch to take something you dropped, exposing your leg in the process.

“That’s..fine, miss,” The handsome young man eyes you up and down, then offers his hand for you.  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,”

“I, as well,” You take his hand and respond to his smile.  “Have a good night, sir,”

As if confirming your suspicion, the man does not give you his name.  But he made the mistake of shaking your hand, because that was enough for you to see the mark on the inside of his wrist.  And that mark made your smile disappear.

A crown with a sword through it.

The Rebellion.

Just as it dawns on you, you jump at the clock’s gongs, 10 times, indicating the hour of the night.

Restless, you grit your teeth and wander into the corridors, eyeing the doors flanking it.

Those gongs were too loud, too long. 

Something happened.

In one of the rooms you find safe, dark in the shadows, you swiftly discard your dress and pull on the suit in your black bag.  You tuck the dress into the biggest pocket you have on your belt and strap on your silver knives under your arms.  Keeping the wig for less recognition, you walk deeper into the castle, mounting the stairs until you’re at the Queen’s ballroom balcony level and come upon what seems as a large window, right across the balcony, looking out at the castle’s backyard.

Noticing the windy environment, you smile at the darkly dressed men, 3, to be exact, and speak up.

“Good evening, gentlemen,”

A moment of tension passes and they come at you, razor sharp daggers in their hands.

Hey, you’ve handled 3 on 1, anyway.

Catching the first man by his wrist, you notice his Rebellion mark.  You keep him in place and kick at the second, catching his weapon midair.  Slamming the first on his back, you avoid the third man’s dagger.

Left, right, right, left.

“Up,” You jump at his low swipe and while holding his hand, push a clean stab onto him.

You kill the other two swiftly, carrying and setting them down somewhere in the corridor. 

Noticing a flutter in the curtains right behind the Queen, you curse yourself.

“No, no,” You grit your teeth as you run and gasp in pain as someone grabs your hair.

“Tsk, tsk, little girl,” The familiar voice whispers at your ear, a pair of hands locking your arms behind your back.