Feigning sleep was difficult enough without the overwhelming excitement coursing through Tahni's veins as she struggled to hold back a grin. The two attendants fussing around wrapped her up in a scratchy blanket and whispered in worried tones as if she weren't there at all, but the surprising part was that they weren't even talking about her. From what Tahni had gathered, the two women were rather miffed at potentially missing out on some of the heavy hitters giving their speeches back in the Queen's receiving room. Important names even she recognized were flung around casually, and so a crazy contestant claiming to have been rendered bleeding by a king's ghost was inconsequential by comparison, even if in Tahni's own estimation the attention paid to the other boring and predictable girls was certainly overvalued.

But nothing was about to put a dent in her spirits. She was soaring so high that she had to hold back giggling as well, and briefly considered whether the fake blood capsules might have contained some other substance beside wrong-colored gelatinous goo. Of course, that was not very likely; the fact was that it had just dawned on her where she was and what she was about to do.

The gossiping attendants couldn't leave fast enough, but Tahni was in luck since they both appeared eager to get back to the good stuff downstairs. She might have been tempted herself, were she not convinced that they would all be talking and doing nothing else of interest whatsoever. Wouldn't it have been grand, if they were just made to fight it out while wearing those intricate outfits, beaded hair ornaments swaying before their bloodied faces as they swung delicate punches left and right, then tripped over their own dresses? If anyone had any sense for what people actually wanted to see, they'd make the trials far more exciting and straightforward.

Sighing, Tahni opened her eyes at last. She was alone, stretched out on a narrow cot in a small room that must have served as a storage annex before being hastily converted into a bedroom for underprivileged guests. There was a plain dresser in one corner and a crooked window frame on the wall opposite the door. Squinting at the window, Tahni judged it just the right size to squeeze through, and she grinned as the blood rushed to her tense limbs, every part of her longing for action.

She stood up, quickly discarding the stiff blanket, then walked over to the corner where Ederra had deposited the bags before excusing herself from the room under the pretense of fetching Tahni's personal physician - an entirely hypothetical individual who would have soon expired from stress otherwise. Rifling through the black bag, she retrieved her dark suit and mask, and smiled warmly at her trusted rope and grappling hooks. Even the bags themselves had been chosen for their sturdy quality, perfect for setting off into the night with newly acquired items that hadn't legally entered into her possession.

Breathing slowly to better offset her growing anticipation, Tahni set about undoing Ederra's careful work by yanking at the hidden laces of her dress, then giving up and moving to her hair instead. The tight coils pulled painfully at her scalp and she gritted her teeth, refusing to be beaten by hair accessories. She pulled out one nettlesome pin after another, placing them back onto the mattress. Their unfortunate shape did not lend itself well to lock picking, and so their sole value remained in the unique yellow pearls glued at the ends.

Tahni wanted to shout in triumph when she fished out the last of the pins and felt her hair loosen up, dropping to her nape, but her sigh of relief froze on her lips when one second later, a shrill scream erupted from right outside her door. She immediately whirled around and put all rational thought on hold - including her initial plan to lock the door and escape via the window - as she threw herself at the door. She pushed it open abruptly, head turning fast, scanning the length of the corridor. She had expected a commotion, but all that greeted her was a muted groan and a sudden resistance, halting her progress.

Blinking in confusion, she peeked behind the door.

A quietly crying palace attendant - the one who had been sent to accompany her out of the Queen's receiving chamber - stood quivering beside the slumped body of a black-clad figure, wearing a costume not unlike Tahni's own. Her eyes immediately snagged onto the naked blade held in the masked man's right hand, then back to his face as he began keening and writhing on the floor.

The attendant shrieked and backed away against the wall, but Tahni didn't hesitate. Striding over to one of the heavy brazier lining the corridor, she dragged it to the fallen interloper and lifted it just enough to let it crash back down on top of him. He immediately stilled and Tahni raised her eyes to look at the other girl.

She was frozen in shock, staring back at her, and so Tahni felt obliged to salvage the increasingly awkward situation.

"So," she began slowly, then cleared her throat. "Do you know this guy?"

The girl shook her head slightly, eyes still glued unblinkingly to a point near the center of Tahni's forehead.

"And," she continued, "why is there no one else around?"

The attendant wet her lips, then spoke so quietly, Tahni had to bend over to make out the words. She was convinced the girl would have flinched away if she could, but she was backed up against the wall with nowhere else to run.

"P-private quarters. Everybody brings their own retinue."

Tahni nodded. It made sense, of course, especially if they'd brought her in an outlying wing, but there still should have been someone within shouting distance. She pointed her chin at the crumpled figure between them.

"What did he want?"

"He asked me if I knew where Ek-, I mean, the King is."

Tahni's eyebrows shot up, and she looked back down at the man she had initially taken for a mere burglar.

"You'd think he would have been better prepared," she muttered. Then she glanced intently back at the frightened girl. "What's your name?"

Her eyes widened, and she started shivering again, but she found the strength to stammer something out.

"Susa?" repeated Tahni, and the girl nodded. "Well, Susa, please go and find the nearest guards, or soldiers, or whoever is supposed to keep the King safe, and inform them that there's been a malicious break-in."

Susa didn't budge, her frightened gaze torn between the man and Tahni.

"Look, I don't know where the guards are and time is of the essence. I'll tie him up, so don't worry about me. Or him."

The girl still hesitated, so she adopted a desperate tone and raised her voice.

"For Channa's sake, woman, there could be more of them! Hurry!"

That sent her scurrying so fast, she almost tripped within three steps. Watching her disappear around the corner, Tahni wondered at the lax standards of security in the palace and whether they might extend to the treasury. But she quickly shook off that train of thought, as unnecessary risks were very unappealing given what had already transpired. Glancing at the body by her feet, she realized she hardly had time to improvise. She darted back into the room and emerged with the rope, made quick work of tying the man up, and hurried to change out of her dress, tearing heedlessly at the stubborn laces. Her hair was an outright mess, but that hardly mattered since she wrapped it in a long black scarf and donned a mask that covered most of her face. Poor Susa, Channa bless her troubled heart, wasn't likely to have noticed either.

Next, she stashed the dress in Ederra's red bag, and after only a brief hesitation, put the hairpins in her own black one. She pushed the red bag under the bed, picked up the other, and then she was off.

As soon as she emerged into the corridor again, she heard approaching footsteps, accompanied by metallic scrapings, heavy panting and cursing. Casting one final disapproving look at the tied up idiot on the floor, she darted in the opposite direction, away from the guards. As she crept about the hallways, approaching that section of the palace with the locked corridor, she wondered about the unexpected appearance of the black-clad man, who was stupid enough to walk around in the palace with an exposed blade, not to mention wearing a dead-giveaway disguise. And while he had offered her a good excuse to get away, sparing her the trouble of climbing out the window - she still didn't know whether she was more relieved or disappointed at having missed the opportunity -, he might have also triggered an alarm that would soon see every other corridor filled to the brim with guards determined to make up for their previous failures, on the lookout for suspicious individuals.

Naturally, Tahni had never considered herself suspicious, but she knew her current attire and conduct could hardly inspire any trust. In her mad dash along the mostly silent corridors, she had a couple of close calls, once darting instantly behind the corner while two servants emerged ahead, and another time having to squeeze through a narrow opening between two statues while a harried-sounding contingent of guards trotted past.

Despite having never stepped foot in this part of the palace before, she knew instinctively which general direction to follow back to the Queen's wing, where the secret storage was located. Growing ever more careful as she neared the targeted area, she slowed down, slinking along the shadows. When she reached a convenient cone of shadow, she drifted closer to a plain mullioned window, peeking carefully outside.

It was well and truly night now, and she thought she saw the trembling reflection of the moon where one of the ponds must have been, surrounded by dark and silent gardens with overgrown hedges and no shortage of hidden pathways. But Tahni knew she would have been at a disadvantage there, since she was not aware of the layout, while regular royal denizens were bound to take their leisurely strolls there every day. Scowling, she turned her gaze back towards the palace and spotted a well-lit chamber with generous proportions, including a fairly high ceiling, on the ground floor somewhere to her right. She had to crane her neck, but she glimpsed an ornate purple gown and the drifting silhouette of a palace attendant.

She grinned, knowing now to be close. She turned right and continued down the hallway until she reached a long gallery lined with high stained glass windows on one side and heavy tapestries on the other. Before she had time to enjoy her triumph however, she noticed the headlong approach of a group of shouting guards near the other end of the gallery and a cold wave of terror washed over her. She should have turned on her heels and run like Lenga back the way she'd come, but something pulled her inexorably ahead.

She couldn't tell whether it was instinct or luck, but as soon as she spotted the terrifying crowned figure atop a battle destrier with shiny green orbs for eyes, she heaved the fabric aside and pushed behind it, until she crashed panting into the small alcove with the metal door at her back.

Approximately half an hour later, she had filled her bag past the recommended limit and had only managed to rifle through a couple of crates in the first locked room. The various knick-knacks she'd pinched included some hideous decorative statuettes - and there was a surprisingly demanding market for those -, gaudy jewelry pieces with a decades-old patina that hadn't fooled her, and a tableware set - not nearly as valuable as the ivory one that Steppo had looted, but still a respectable acquisition. She'd shied away from the more fragile items, since she hadn't brought any additional wrappings and the ones she had selected clanged against each other something fierce. She ended up grabbing stacks of old papers from another crate and shoving them in the sack as well, in an attempt to muffle the noises.

At length, she was forced to admit that she'd reached the pinnacle of the evening and would have to make do with what she'd taken so far. The more she waited, the higher the chances of discovery, so she tied off the bag and hoisted it onto her back, then locked all doors on her way out, including the metal gate that led to the stairs on the other end of the corridor.

Her heart was pounding as if it wanted nothing less than to break out of her chest. She almost stumbled on her way down, and had to hold on tight to the railing, lest she toppled over.

Taking a moment to regroup, she lowered herself onto the steps and sat down, breathing in slowly. She closed her eyes, mentally mapping her escape plan, which hadn't changed. There hadn't been much to it in the first place, since she hadn't had time for proper research, instead choosing to rely on her spur-of-the moment responses. She could dodge guards if she were careful and listened to their approach, choosing a path where she wouldn't be cornered, but her close call back in the tapestry gallery had shaken her out of composure. She'd pulled through, but she had to admit it had been mostly due to luck. She could not allow such mistakes from this point forward.

She braced her hands on her knees and stood up purposefully, cracking a smile when her impromptu backpack didn't jingle to give away her position. She'd remember to bring more fabric next time, but for now, the papers worked well enough. Still, she had to be careful not to jostle her load too much.

She crept down the stairs and emerged onto the lower level, taking the opposite direction than the one leading to the Queen's receiving room, where the crowds were thick and the trial hadn't ended yet. She spared a thought for Ederra, hoping that the girl had managed to retrieve the other bag and make up an excuse on her behalf, but that really seemed to be one of her strong suits, so she had little cause for worry on that front.

Pushing ahead silently, she came dangerously close to the servants' wing, and hastily took another staircase leading even further down when she heard people approaching. They weren't guards, but she could hardly allow herself to be seen.

When she'd first approached the Main Gate earlier that evening, she had expected to find dozens of the armed fiends at every intersection, poking out of every room lining the hallways and inspecting every passerby with a critical eye. But that hadn't proven to be the case at all.

For one, the palace was huge, and Tahni was willing to bet that more than half the rooms were kept in a perpetual state of disuse. Then there was the personnel positioning; guards seemed to be stationed only at entrances and exits, or around the main passageways leading from one wing to the next. The closer she got to the ground floor, the more she had to prick her ears and be on the lookout. She might also run into the odd patrol when she finally emerged onto the grounds, but if she stuck to the hedgerow and advanced carefully, she should make it to the nearby Channa temple just fine. She already knew which wing she'd have to skirt to get there, and all she had to do now was find a convenient window or unguarded doorway and slip outside.

Sudden loud voices brought her up short just as she neared the end of the staircase and she searched desperately for a way out. There was none. Only a door on swinging hinges stood between her and the fast approaching women, so she hurried to the side and was mercifully hidden out of sight when the two entered the stair shaft. Quickly, she scurried behind them and stepped out onto the corridor on the other side, the door swinging shut behind her.

And then her luck ran out.

The din of voices sounded from both ends of the hallway, including from some of the rooms. There was also a row of windows on the other side, but none was pried open and Tahni knew a moment of true terror before her eyes landed on a dark wardrobe opposite the door, strangely out of place between two potted ferns.

She scrambled to it, tried the door and found it locked, but she was already reaching for her pocket knife. Shoving the blade into the narrow space between the doors, she was surprised to find a wooden latch instead of a classic locking mechanism, as if the thing had somehow been locked from the inside.

Still, she angled the blade and half pushed, half sliced through, then flung one door open and clambered inside. Crouching down, both hands holding on to the broken latch to keep the doors in place, she counted her panting breaths as she tried to calm herself down. It was due to the panic that she failed to immediately notice the peculiarities of the wardrobe.

For one, there was light - flickering and dim, but her eyes widened as she registered it at last. Fixing her gaze onto the broken latch, she realized the thing had indeed been closed from within. Then, as the rushing in her ears subsided, giving way to silent dread, she picked out a separate set of labored breaths aside from her own.

And just like that, her iron-clad control slipped for just a fraction of a second, plenty of time to do something incredibly stupid if a pair of stubborn arms hadn't coiled around her from behind.