War was messy and bold, filled with unexpected turns and endings cut short and run long. You could never see the end as well as you could feel it, but this didn't feel like the end. Not yet.

The atmosphere was one found on the battlefield when blood coated every limb and breath came out in short, ragged gasps. It was hostile and sharp, turning every eye against the other. Which comrades in arms could you trust and which would stab you in the back at the earliest convenience for a higher post? The sky should have been storming, with thunder and rain, pelting soldiers and knights and making the droplets spill down shining armor onto the muddy, body covered ground. It was not one meant for the middle of a marriage ceremony.

Andrea shifted bitterly, pulling and tugging at her dress's edge. It sat bunched up beneath her backside, barely falling low enough to cover the dagger strapped to her thigh. Her throat felt sticky and her spit thick. If anyone saw it, she was a dead man walking. So be it. To think they'd banned only but a special few to bear weapons was a mockery of the event. Most of the guests attending wouldn't need a weapon if the moment came down to it.

Neither did she, of course. Andrea had mapped out the great hall more than once. There was an abundance of blunt objects or steel poles perfect for ramming up some Elusian's arse should the situation come to that. Although, she already had an eye on a pair of them she was currently fantasizing about using as practice dummies. They stood against a pole on the far right of the aisle, whispering in hushed tones with foreheads practically pressed together. Two smiles had slipped onto their lips as their eyes darted up to King Gavin and a small round of chuckling broke out that they didn't try hard to hide.

Almost boiling over in rage, the girl sent them a death glare from half a pew down. Her face had been shaped into a sharp frown since early morning, and only now did her eyebrows scrunch and eyes narrow to complete the look. The taller of the two boys caught her eyes. His hair was shaggy and poorly combed, and his build was more of a squire's than a knight's. To her dismay, the Elusian only smiled wider. He nudged the boy next to him and then whispered again, both sets of eyes turning to her as another fit of snickering broke out.

With a cruel sneer, she pushed herself from the bench to grab them both by the collars and wring their precious necks. It'd be a lot harder to laugh without vocal chords.

"Hold it." The words came with warm fingers wrapped tight around her wrist. Andrea glanced back, knees half bent in the action of getting up, her back doubled over as to not disturb the crowd.

Casper was watching her with wide eyes. He looked more different than she had ever seen him before; he looked scared. A soft tug was given to her arm that rippled through the rest of her muscles and gave them pause. A heavy breath escaped her. "I'm just going to teach those two a quick lesson in respect," she promised, flashing him a partial grin.

If they had been back in Laesh, he would have been the first to suggest they filled those idiots shoes with leeches. Now, Casper hesitated. He ran his spare hand through his orange curls, teeth sunk into his lip. "Sit back down." It was meant to be a plea not an order, but a harshness escaped at the end of his words. Andrea frowned, her lips pressed tight as she slowly sat and smoothed the fabric of her skirt. Relieved, Casper slid his hold from her wrist to her hand. His palm was sweatier than she'd anticipated, matching the sheen on his brow.

No one in the event was completely calm. Most shifted uneasily, whispering hushed words beneath the ritual. Some gritted their teeth with fists full of fabric, begging it to be over. The only person that looked at ease was Garner, settled in his spot by the King's side as always. He stood and watched attentively, eyes flickering across the crowded masses with a sense of certainty that this was the end of the war. Of course, Shahin likely looked the same. Though, even while straining half out of her seat, Andrea couldn't find where the knight was.

"They're almost done," Casper whispered over to her, taking the movement as restlessness.

Andrea frowned. She turning her eyes to the couple at the top of the steps. Gavin's daughter, a woman by the name of Eve who she had never met, stood as still as a doll made out of glass. She wasn't the weathered royalty that Gavin had become from years of war, though there was something in her eyes that lacked the essence of fear as his did and that elected immediate respect. It was a deadly stare that made enemies want to turn tail and run as it did to the boy before her now.

Johnathan looked feverish. His back was straightened as tall as he could stand, his knuckles drained white and clasped behind his back. The outfit that he wore, adorned with small gems and made from a deep black fabric only made his skin look paler. With a thick swallow and an almost invisible swipe of his tongue over his lips, the Prince gave his best imitation of a smile. It was uneven around the edges, resigned in the fact he knew what the next two words would mean.

Sitting at the edge of the pew, Andrea tensed her shoulders. This was what the war came down to, whether or not it was painful to admit. If he said yes, Elusia would be theirs. Her eyes darted around, passing over the high stone columns holding up the ceiling and over the crowd of shining attire all holding their own bated breath. Hers was held for a miracle. That at any second a hoard of hidden soldiers would burst through the large oak doors at the back of the room and storm in. They'd brandish swords and fire arrows and the ballroom, broken into chaos, would be unable to finish the ceremony.

But playing the scene in her head did nothing to block reality from slipping through as Johnathan's words fell over the silent room. "I do."

Andrea closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it back out. It was over then. She felt betrayed as her eyes found Gavin, half hidden behind the light peck of lips between his daughter and the Elusian - if he was to still be considered one. The satisfied look on the King's face was the twist of the knife already buried in her abdomen. It was wrong, this compromise. They had everything within their grasp, had destroyed their cities, brought the filthy kingdom onto its knees begging not to be annihilated and then what? Let it all go for a few trading posts. She hated politics.

"Andrea." The girl looked up at a slight rib jab, Casper standing over her with a hand held out. A good moment had passed without her noticing. His smile faltered at her blank expression when she turned up to face him. "Come on," he encouraged, flexing his fingers and wiggling them rather unappealingly, "this is a celebration." Sighing, she took his hand and was pulled to her feet.

Ahead of them, there was a small crowd around the newlywed couple. Most congratulated them with brief comments and low bows and curtsies. Behind them, the dance floor sat in wait. Most of the crowd had gravitated there as the music picked up. A harpist played and a violinist strummed and by a column placed beside the musicians, she caught a glimpse of a familiar face.

"Give me a moment, would you?" She told Casper, not really asking her friend before detaching her hand from his and straying away. He would be fine. Dancing was a waste of time, anyhow.

Instead, Andrea weaved between the crowd, careful not to step on anyone else's toes as she moved toward the edge of the dance floor. Cassius was leaning against the stone structure, hand half buried in his thick, black curls. His eyes were intent on a paper in his hands, but it seemed as if he was trying too hard to preoccupy himself, to distract his gaze away from the goings-on around him. It was unusual for the bard to focus on anything that hard that wasn't lyrics or sheet music as far as Andrea was concerned. So, when approaching, she made sure to loop around from behind and lean over his shoulder as best she could to get a glimpse of what was on the parchment. The height difference made it difficult. Pressed on the edge of her tiptoes, the hem of her dress lifted well off the floor, and her elbow propped against the column to stop herself from swaying, Andrea made out only the first word before Cassius caught her looking.

With three quick folds and a gentle thumb run across the crease of the paper, the musician tucked away the paper and stared at her. He attempted a polite smile, more than most other knights, Shahin especially, would have offered her if they caught her snooping. Defeated, Andrea settled back onto the heels of her boots and smiled back. Her mouth felt dry, her smile strained.

"Did you need anything?" Cassius asked. He turned better to face her, hiding the note even more from her sight with his pocket in the back of his pants. It wasn't as if she had magic vision.

"No." Andrea's voice was more of a sigh than a word. Taking a hand through her long, tangled hair, she cocked her head at the knight. His position was still stiff, his limbs without their usual wispy ease that made him move like a piece of silk brought to life. "I thought I'd come to say hello. You seemed a bit off."

The lyricist quirked a dark eyebrow at her. She was surprised to see a spark of mischief left in his eyes after all that had happened. "Disappointed," he answered, a swipe of his tongue over his lips, "they refused to let me perform a ballad of mine."

So it was a song. A smile drew across Andrea's face, not believing for a second that the man was lying to her. It was too easy to fall fool to a man you thought to be one. "A travesty," Andrea agreed. She clasped a hand on his shoulder, sympathetic but only because it drew her mind away from other things. It was a welcome distraction from the shameless events that were still unraveling on the other side of the hall. "Can you not perform it anyway? Leap atop the table like you did the first night at the banquet."

The suggestion was met with a pity of a laugh, a half chuckle and then it died in Cassius's throat. He looked about to say something, hand raised in a gesture before the bellow of King Gavin's voice caught them both short. Andrea let her eyes dart to him, outfit as red as blood as he stood on the top step of the room. There wasn't a single crease or speck of mud, and his bread was finely combed through. A warm smile graced his face for the first time she had seen since the war began. Gavin was a different man the moment his victory had been secured. He looked less threatening, less rigid.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he called, eyes surveying the small crowd before him. He swept out a hand to the left, and as he did, he plucked a large goblet off a silver platter beside him. The wine was poured to the very lip, the red surface glinting beneath the sunlight through the large pane windows. He raised it high, prompting his guests to grab their own glasses. "If you would," he kindly ordered.

But Andrea didn't grab a glass. The King's speech feel to the back of her mind. Her eyes were not focused on him or the trays passing around them, but the servant who had handed Gavin's wine to him. He'd retreated to the sidelines now, shaggy, blonde hair hidden beneath an archways shadow. Again the boy took to the side of his companion. This time their laughs were hidden behind thin smiles, and a pouch no bigger than her fist was slipped between them. It disappeared into the shorter boy's pocket. Then, with a swift nod between them, the second boy left and fell out of her view through a side passageway.

Something was wrong. It was a certainty deep in her gut as she turned and grab ahold of Cassius. The wine in his hand almost spilled over, a few droplets dribbling down the side. "Did you see that?" she hissed. He turned to face her, and she caught it, the way his eyes had been following the same movement of hers. "You did." She could hardly breathe when their eyes met. He didn't look scared but certain, resigned in the way his shoulders slumped forward, finding himself for the first time since she had met him at a lack of words.

"I'd like to thank you all for attending." Andrea spun around, Gavin's words echoing around the lofty ceilings. His glass raised to the full extent of his arm, and without thinking, she started moving. "To celebrate-"

"Andrea, wait," Cassius called out to her, his words an octave above a whisper. His fingers caught on the edge of her arm but found no place to sink in as she ripped away herself away with a death glare flashed over her shoulder.

"-the union of my own beautiful daughter-" Each word burdened her shoulders as she struggled forward. The crowd was thick, and Andrea elbowed her way through the densest part, unable to turn back. She couldn't retreat and run into Cassius or be stopped by any of the guards. Logic said to just call out, but her mouth was glued shut in a blind panic. "-and to the new addition to Adrigole and to my own personal family-"

No. Andrea's blood rushed through cold. Thrusting through a pair of women in golden dresses, she caught the briefest glance of Gavin and reached the front edge of the crowd. He pulled the glass back to his lips, eyes full of triumph. But he didn't know. "-Prince Johnathan." The wine touched his lips.

She froze, helpless as her body finally reached the very front of the crowd. Every muscle was coiled and strained. Her horror was hidden behind a numb mask. "Stop," Andrea whispered, the word too late, the sound drowned as cheers broke out. They thought Adrigole had won the war, and they were wrong. Each glass was turned up, the liquid downed in celebration. Only one cup brought a man to his knees.

A fit of coughing broke out. The King had stumbled down, his body caving in against his will. The goblet fell from his hands and rolled away, a clatter ringing out as it fell down the stairs before him. Red spilled down and weaved through Gavin's beard. Not wine but blood. Knights and guards rushed forward. Her eyes caught Garner as he kneeled down by Gavin's side, face pale for the first time. His calm was gone.

This wasn't the way it was supposed to end. This wasn't the way she would let it end. Andrea scanned the room and found her gaze locked on Johnathan. His eyes were wide, his body on the verge of trembling. He'd taken several steps away from the chaos, falling a few feet away from the edge of the circle crowding the King. None of the guards watched him and Eve had fallen beside her father, white dress rippling around her as onlookers crowded her in.

If one monarch was to die, so would another. Andrea could hear the anger ringing through her ears, that after all of this, after her King had been so merciful as to spare him and his kingdom, the Elusian would pull something such as this. Her vision narrowed, the sounds of screams falling deaf on her ears. Hiking up her dress, Andrea retrieved the dagger strapped to her thigh. The metal was warm to the touch, the sharp point pricking her fingers.

Acting as silent and quick as she could, the knight slipped through the crowd, all of which were pushing the opposite way. They wanted to see a King die but faked as if to help. She could care less. There was no reverse for it now, only revenge. Johnathan appeared alone before her. He looked as shaken as the rest, if not more so, but it was only an act. It had to be.

This time, Andrea did not hesitate and wait to be seen by someone willing to stop her. She approached from behind and drove the dagger straight through the Prince's back. Blood trickled down slower than she thought. The moment seemed to pause. His last breath was taken in a sharp, painful gasp. The way his body lurched at the impact was delayed. It wavered, still standing for a moment after. Then, just as the King's had, his knees gave out and Johnathan plummeted to the ground. He hit with a heavy thud.

The girl looked out into the room. Sunlight streamed through uninterrupted, capturing the glint of light and spreading it across the red carpet below the steps. The hall was smaller than she remembered, more intimate. The ceiling felt closer. Most faces blurred together. She could no longer find Cassius either. The knight had disappeared from his post by the band, so had the poisoner. As her eyes raked for the bard, she found Shahin instead. He stood extremely still, watching the chaos with a tightly pulled frown. His gaze met hers for a split second. It was filled with a bitter resentment until it flickered down, noting the blood that was leaking toward her feet.

Andrea was kept from seeing his reaction. She was yanked backward roughly, nails digging tight into her skin and raking until it felt like blood would run out. A bitten back scream choked her throat. Her body slammed into the ground, shoulders breaking in pain. Andrea tried to roll away and scramble to her feet, but an arm pinned her down across the chest. Blonde hair tumbled into her vision, falling as a thick curtain around her. Her body was pinned between a pair of legs, arms wedged in tight. The cold tip of metal traced the edge of her neck.

Adeline hovered above her, expression twisted in rage. It was almost funny to think Andrea had forgotten about her. She hadn't noticed how close the woman had been standing, always by her Prince's side. A moment of distraction had grabbed her like the rest of the crowd, unfortunately, and now she was forced to suffer the price.

"You scum." The words were hissed with warm breath fanning Andrea's cheek. Spit flecked her skin as the knight above her clamped down her teeth into a snarl. Adeline's dagger pressed close to her throat, but he hand was trembling, the blade wavering enough to knick a sliver of Andrea's neck. Sticky blood pooled at the opening. "Do you know what you've done?"

"Gotten retribution," Andrea responded fiercely, feeling the trickle of the warm liquid curve down to her collarbone. She dared the Elusian to slice her down with a keen look. The challenge was met with a toothy smile, and pain bit deep into the girl's flesh. A strangled gasp of air escaped her lips, but it was a blessing. This was what the end should have felt like. This was the rage of war.

But the moment ended as swift as it had begun. A cold breeze swept around her throat, and Andrea blinked as the weight of Adeline lessened and gave her room to breathe. The world swam as magic buzzed around her. The pain in her body died to dull aches, and cuts sealed as her hands, now free from Adeline's restrictive hold, trailed over them.

Sound came rushing back in full. Not only Adeline's ragged breath but screams bouncing around the great hall as new eyes fell on the deadly fray before them. It was not a sound she missed. Andrea's eyes focused above her. Adeline sat on her stomach still, but a hand was wrapped firmly around her shoulder, restricting her from moving. Garner loomed over her. His eyes were dark with a shocked state of grief, but that made him no less intimidating. Andrea almost smiled.

"We'll handle this civilly," he told Adeline, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt a little tighter.

The knight looked stunned. A bitter laugh twisted her throat. For someone who Andrea had always told was calm and collected, she seemed broken now, rash and disjointed. The danger bubbling beneath her surface only rose at the mage's suggestion. "Civilly?" she repeated, the word mocking on her tongue. "They're both dead, and you expect me to do nothing?"

Garner sighed. He released his hold on her and slid his hand up to rub over his temple. "I expect you to have reason. Eve is very much alive." Andrea had all but forgotten about Gavin's daughter in the chaos. It was a relief that gave her clarity. Adrigole had a ruler, still, and it would certainly not be Johnathan. "We'll have a trial over this," he continued, dark gaze flickering to Andrea's. A deadly promise. "But more senseless attacks will lead to a massacre, if we're not careful." The inflection of his tone hinted that he too had thought to perform a "senseless act," even if the look he gave Andrea was meant to be disapproving.

Adeline stood up slow, pushing herself to her feet. Her eyes met Andrea's bitterly as she reached down and grabbed the girl to roughly yank her to her feet. The knight was spun around, arms pinned painfully from behind her back.

For the first time, she caught the reactions spread throughout faces in the crowd. Some were thrilled, others terrified. They watched the puddle of the Prince's blood soak into the carpet as they left Gavin's unmoving body behind. It felt good. Better than she could say. All of this ugly nasty war, but finally it had ended right. Adrigole had won; she had won. And she had done more than just sit on the sidelines and watch the blood run, she had caused the final blow. This was the way war was meant to be. And now, it was over.