The birds welcomed the night from the branches outside the Inn. The sun sunk over the hills bathing the valley in a sweet golden light. Laureline stirred, awaking William from his makeshift bed on the floor (Laureline had insisted on saving money as they were still running on the change she had found in her saddlebags). The two newfound business partners rode through the night and had spent the day sleeping in a quaint Inn on the outskirts of Acton, a small village known by tourists for its mead. The two checked out of the Inn and made their way across the small town and knocked on a wooden door. What the tourist books did not tell you, however, was that in it, lived the most infamous blacksmith known to the dark side of Estreal.

The man who opened the door had to lean out of the house to even see outside. His hair was wild, long and unkempt. A bushy beard started at his kin and ended somewhere at his hip.

"Who are ye?" he asked in a deep, husky voice.

"We're here for business," William said, completely disregarding his question.

"I'm retired, whatever it is I can't help yer." The man shuffled back in the house and began to close the door.

"Does the name Laureline ring a bell?"

He opened the door just enough for them to slip through and motioned them to come inside. Standing next to him was the next best thing to standing next to a giant - he stood as tall as two men balancing on one another's shoulders. Tattoos snaked up his chunky, muscular arms and littered amongst them were scars, each one telling a story.

" It has been a lang time since we last meet. Ah remember ye runnin' around th' forge still a wee bairn an' 'en th' council decided to make their own weapons. " Shaking his head his eyes glazed over, his memories transporting him elsewhere.

"Adeline is dead, the village is a pile of ashes-"

"Th' council had it comin' for a lang time...Aam surprised they lasted as lang as they did. Actions become patterns an' without it-"

"HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT! YOU LOVED HER!" Laureline screamed. The room stood silent, the fire crackling in the background.

"I was there when it happened. She killed her and it's all my fault because I stashed myself away like a coward for so long. She deserves to die." Tears swam in her eyes, running down her cheeks like rain.

"I can't hide away forever- but I can fight to live. I can fight for all the lives she snuffed out." She studied his dark eyes, unsure of the storm brewing behind them.

"Ah cannot help ye. Ye better go before someone realizes where ye are." He got up, ushering them to the door.

"I yearn for the sound the rain falling on the wooden roof and nights spend curled up beside the fireplace during storms. I recall: running through the forest, chasing after the wind, the hiss of molten metal being submerged in water and wielding a sword that I, alone, had created. I saw how you looked at her. I miss her too, but this is no time to mourn days past, Datheus. Many a day is wasted lingering in the past, it is best to move forth utilizing our past experiences to weld our futures." Laureline turned back. Datheus stared into the fire, his eyes twinkling in its light.

"Will you help an old friend? For old times' sake?"

After some time, she turned to leave once more.

"-They say 'at th' prince an' th' duchess ur courtin'. In three nights he is to pass through Thistleby an' meet 'er highness."

"Do you happen to know where they are meeting?"

There was a pause.

"Narwar's Manor."

"Well then," she said whirling around once more, "Do you have a sword I can borrow?"

***

The Narwar's Manor took Estreal's title of best vineyard. Its fields stretched out for miles, decorating the landscape on the west banks of the Wren River. Not just any peasant could get in there by only the nobles and those who could afford to tip the guards if they had to. Laureline had neither money nor status enough to even kiss the guard's polished black leather boots- instead she made her way in stuffed into a barrel supposedly carrying mead from Acton for tasting, loaded onto the back of a wagon.

"Halt." came the monotonous voice of a guard. Laureline could hear some inaudible chatter and then William protesting loudly.

"The prince would not want his mead tampered with."

"Strange, I have orders from the prince himself, to test everything that enters this vineyard." the guard snapped.

"There's no need for that"

"Actually, there is. His Majesty: Prince Nicholas, will be coronated at the full moon and after all, a dead King is not a useful one," another voice piped up, she was guessing the taste tester.

William could not argue with this. There was some shuffling and the sound of a bung being opened and the contents of the barrel pouring out. This continued until they stood the barrel next to Laureline's. There was the gushing sound and the pause and then the shuffle- There came no shuffle. Instead, there came the moans of pleasure of the taster.

"Some... mmore please?" the drunken words escaped his lips.

"You've had quite enough," William objected he then whispered to the guard, "I'm not sure he's quite ready for another sip."

"Well, who else is to ensure the Prince's health?"

"You, perhaps?"

"Me? You think I could do it?"

"How hard can it be? You have few swings and you let the drinks through." The guard was starting to look quite proud of his promotion when William added: "But what if the poison only shows up later. "

The guard gulped.

"I think you'd do much better if you judged whether the person would be capable of such an inexplicable thing."

"And how would I do that?"

"Do I look like a murderer to you?"

"No."

"Well, then let me through."

Strangely the guard found himself doing just that. The wagon pulled aside in the off-loading zone. Laureline swiftly jumped out of her barrel and nodded at William before disappearing into the doors of the main house.

Lamps lit the stone halls, the finest woods carpeting the floors. Datheus had provided her with a map but walking around, the corridors twisted and turned right, left then up a staircase and then down another. Just as she thought she was lost she heard music filling the corridors with sound. Rounding a corner, she could hear the chatter grew louder. Then she saw it, oak doors standing open, two guards on either side and then, the queue, stretching down the hall like a snake with no end in sight. One anxious lady desperately begged one guard to be let in as he called security. Luckily, they had prepared for this and had put together a servant's outfit. Laureline strode past the guards will ease and filtered into the crowd.

The Prince and the Duchess had a small clearing of friends around them. She saw the duchess whisper into his ear and the two of them parted from the crowd, moving into a different part of the main house. Laureline grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses from another servant girl and followed after them. The walked down a long passage and then using a key, open the door to (what Laureline assumed) was their suite before closing the door behind them. The sound of laughter and giggling erupted from within. "Two unmarried royals in a private chamber together, how scandalous!" she thought, imagining the gossip columns the next morning, that is if they weren't filled with that of the Duchess' untimely death. Placing her outstretched hand on the doorknob she was about to turn it when a woman's voice interrupted her.

"Sorry about this, but I'm afraid I have to visit the ladies' parlour for a few moments," a woman's voice said. Laureline hid behind a suit of armour just in time to see the long golden locks of the Duchess' hair fly past. Sliding out from behind the armour into the suite's doorway she was about to pursue her target and then-

"That is a strange place to deliver wine from." a voice rumbled from behind her. Laureline whip around only to realise that the door stood wide open and sprawled out in an armchair was none other than the prince himself.

"I was just admiring the armour, it was weld for the Battle of Arachne for the knights who fought. It's a very good fake..." Laureline spun-off a tale explaining her unusual mannerisms from the top of her head.

"Fake?"

"Yes, there are only eleven genuine suits left in Estreal."

"Well I don't know anything about welding nor rare artefacts, but I can tell you that you are lying."

"I would never-"

"Please, spare me another story. I've had nannies and tutor's baby me from the moment I exited my mother's womb. I want some truth in my life - what are you really here for?"

The Prince's hazel eyes met her blue ones and a certain understanding, like an electric current passed between them.

"Fine, can you at least leave the wine and tell me your name?"

She placed the bottle and glasses on the table. The distant muffle of heels against carpet could be heard coming down the passage and although every fibre in her body told her not to she whispered that unforgivable word.

"My name is Laureline."

She drew back from the table and began to walk out when-

"Sorry I took so long, I-"

The Duchess' hard icy blue eyes met Laureline's gentle ocean blue.

"Oh, you poor darling, you must have gotten lost. Nicholas, I'll just help the girl out back to the ballroom." The Duchess said in a sickly-sweet voice. Her eyes neither blinking nor parting from Laureline's.

"You must be exhausted from all of the guests badgering you, I will take her. " The Prince offered.

"That is absolutely ridiculous, I can manage on my own"

"Don't be silly, I insist. Let me have my last bit of freedom before the coronation."

"Very well then..."

The Prince escorted Laureline down the corridor in silence. Laureline stared down at the Persian carpeting trying to figure her way out of her impending death when the Prince's polished shoes came to halt outside the ballroom doors. She looked up once more into the wild hazel eyes of the Prince.

"Farewell, Laureline. I wish you all the best in your future endeavours." He said almost a whispered. She nodded and with that the doors to her death had been opened.

The ballroom was a mass of expensive gowns and polished jewels meant to capture your attention. Laureline looked past all of this and instead focused on the two guards already searching the room, looking for her. The larger one was pointing over in her direction and talking to the other one. Laureline saw her opportunity and took it- breaking out into a sprint she raced across the room and made a hard push on the (now closed) doors of the ballroom. The doors whipped open, the long line of people flushed into the ballroom, delaying the two guards who had been hot on her heels. The stone walls flew by and then, just as she thought she had escaped, everything came to a standstill- two guards had positioned themselves so that they blocked the exit. Their eyes rolled back in their heads, revealing the bloodshot whites. You could see the blood pumping through their veins in a sort of ominous black colour. Their skin was translucent. Together they spoke in unison:

"Halt, the Duchess requires your presence. If you do not comply- "

"-I'll die a painful death? Sorry boys, I think that might happen anyway."

With one swift move, she pulled out the dagger from her skirts a slit both of their necks. Leaving both of them on the bleeding out floor she skipped down the corridor filled with the adrenaline after a kill.

William was waiting anxiously outside when she finally made her way out. He worriedly watched her climb onto the back of the wagon, pulling out a crossbow from behind a left-over barrel. They left the Manor with an arrow in the backs of both the guard and the taster at the gate and blood gushing from the translucent skins of Laureline's first kill.