Nikita was now inside the palace, writing in her room. It was now pitch black outside, the flickering candle light sparking in the room.
Her quill scratched the parchment, sending shivers down her spine as the screech of the nib sounded. She bit her lip as she pondered about what to write, muttering under her breath words of poetry, whiling away the time as it was too cold outside.
Suddenly there was a scuffling noise from the grounds and as she turned to the window, she knew that there was something wrong. Her ears pricked as someone ran along the pathway and she looked out of the window, leaping back in shock as a face appeared outside.
She didn't know, but it was the younger brother of Kotov, the one who stole the papers. He was being chased by his Pursuer. He pressed his terrified face against the window, pleading to Nikita in a high, hysterical voice.
"Help me! Help me!" He screamed, casting frantic looks behind him. "Agh! They are after me!" The cat sped off, casting panicked cries into the night.
Nikita rushed so fast from the room that she practically skidded from it, drawing her sword as the cold air from outside hit her. Following the shrieks and yells, the young cat sped towards the source of the commotion.
The younger brother fled through trees, panicking as the heavy sound of footsteps roughened the leaves behind him. He kept shooting glances over his shoulder, checking where his chaser was.
Backing away towards a tree, he looked furtively around and let out a piercing scream as a rough, devilish face appeared among the dark shadows.
He hardly had time to turn and run when the dark shadow lifted his paw, in which glinted death: a knife. It was thrown and hit the younger brother square in the chest. His eyes bulged as he slid down the tree, blood seeping from the fatal wound as if he could hardly believe what had happened.
Nikita heard the drawn out cries and rushed towards the scene shouting "stop! Stop!"  As she found the place where the murder had been committed, she noticed the bloody corpse on the ground and placed a paw over her mouth "oh god"
Hearing rustling bushes she kept close to the tree, looking around for the murderer and wondering what to do next.
A heavily scarred, hefty cat leapt from the bushes, brandishing his blade. Nikita leapt back, parrying the thrust quickly. She soon realised that this might be a fight to the death, seeing that spittle was flying from her opponent's mouth as he fought viciously.
Suddenly, missing her footing, Nikita stumbled and fell on her back into a clump of bushes. Reacting in a split second, Nikita kicked away the rivals blade with her foot as he lunged at her. Seeing that his sword was now stuck in the ground some feet away, he leapt upon her and the two cats scrabbled violently in the leaves, the rival trying to close his paws around her throat whilst Nikita fought to thwart his attempts.
Soon there was the sound of dogs barking as the guards ran out from the palace, their voices reverberating in the air. Nikita's rival scrabbled up, a look of alarm on his face as he gazed around frantically for the hounds. Quickly he sped off, away from the palace, looking back as if the dogs were following.
Realising that the danger had gone, Nikita sat up, rubbing her paw over her wet brow and getting to her foot paws. She then hurried back towards the palace, shaken up by the murder she had witnessed.

As she entered the safety of the palace, her faithful servant was waiting for her. As she sat down to tell her tale, he brushed down her fur and cape profusely. Nikita leant back against a pillar, casting her eyes heavenwards whilst Boshkev wiped her face with a damp cloth.
"I just hope Alexander is alright. Who knows what devilish things are going on here?" Sighed Nikita, after she had related her story.

Picture of Nikita getting to the younger brother of Kotov just after the murder. Here she is, next to what is meant to be the dead cat and looking pretty horrified and suspicious. She's keeping a lookout for any movement.
The anatomy is probably wrong but if you like it... More are soon coming. Perhaps Michael in his frilly woman's petticoat.
Bye my muscateers!