The rage in Girault's voice was almost tangible. A fury burned in his lungs as he cried out, swinging his sword down over King Joasten. The king's guard wasn't someone on our side, and so he was being held in place. I pulled two more knives from my clothing, almost ready to attack Girault when the end of a spear pierced clean through the neck of the soldier behind Joasten, allowing him to roll to the side.

My eyes met Bricker's as he yanked his weapon free, then I pulled myself around the corpse at our feet, slamming my back against his as I loosed my first knife at one of the soldiers from the back of the room who were now running our way.

"Keep your head on your shoulders!" Bricker shouted over the ruckus in the hall.

"Don't worry about me, newbie," I called after my first knife sank into my target's shoulder. "Worry about your own neck."

It was chaos. Taking out the two charging our way, I spared a moment to toss another dagger toward Rorik, who was yanking his mother's bindings free. He grunted as he caught it, barely sparing a nod while he went back to work on the ropes, now with a blade. For good measure, I tossed two on the floor in front of Mason and Braeton, then turned back to watch the room.

Dirk and Jexa were caught in a scuffle at the doors, the former engaging in a close-hand knife fight with any trying to come through the side doorway and the latter completely barring the largest main doors. With his whole weight on the doors, the soldiers would have to find another way in. My eyes slid to the final entrance to the room, the smaller servants' entrance that I had pretended to be guarding earlier. Already the first person was running in, a lanky youth with a bow.

I surged forward, running at him as his arrow reached the string and he pulled. Dropping down and sliding the last few paces as the arrow loosed from his hands, it was easier than it should have been to shove a knife upward under his ribs. A cough of blood spewed from his mouth and belly, and I thought I was going to be sick as flashes of Davery's last moments screamed through my mind.

Rolling away before the body fell, I found my feet and pushed the thoughts away to focus on the fighting. The quickest of glances over my shoulder told me there were still guards attacking, but the royals were basically freed at this point and the ones who had no ability to fight were now in a corner behind the high table away from the bloodshed while Pettypiece, who had gotten free somehow, was guarding them with his life and a spear he must have taken from one of the dead soldiers. But the thing that stopped my heart wasn't Jexa screaming as he struggled to hold his door, or Bricker who was now helping Dirk at his, but the defenseless Joasten in front of Girault.

I knew my king had a reputation for his spectacular sword-fighting, but that did nothing for him when he was unarmed. His two oldest sons were already occupied with their own foes, and the only thing standing between the king and a beheading by the traitor was now Rorik armed only with the dagger I'd given him at the start.

"No!" I screamed, watching Girault use the advantage of the longer weapon in his hand as he struck at Rorik. Blessedly, the prince had dodged it.

I had to help, I had to do something. Looking at my hand, the final dagger I had on me was Davery's. My eyes flicked back up to the scene, there was no time to run over there, but there was still time to act.

Hefting the weight for a heartbeat, I judged the best throw I could make and let the precious knife fly. I chose a target that didn't move as much as the rest of him, and I watched with bated breath as the blade sank into Girault's thigh over his bad leg.

Girault cursed in pain, but the opening was enough as Rorik pushed forward and sliced at the wrist that held his enemy's sword. Girault was swiftly dealt with after that, a bloody spray sweeping the floor as Rorik left no openings for mercy or escape, slitting the traitor's neck.

Thank the gods.

Bootstpes behind me had me turning and reaching for my hip, realizing all too late that there were no knives left on my person. Ice ran through my chest as panic set in at the first sign of an armored fighter coming through the servants' door. And yet, the back of my neck burned, roaring to life.

'Look up'

My eyes moved, possibly not of my own choosing, and I saw the glint of silver as it fell through a nearly-invisible slit high on the wall. Olianne.

"Bless you!" I cried as I caught my own knife, the one I had left with the princess who must be watching the whole fight, terrified. But Girault was so wrong about her, that one insignificant girl had just participated in this fight, and saved my neck in the process.

Blade in hand, the soldier was upon me, her ax already making a downward sweep over my head. I dodged by the skin of my teeth, and slashed at an opening at the back of my assailant's knee, severing all the bits that allowed her to stand.

I practically rolled away, getting out of range of that ax as she screamed. But the cries were cut short as Mason reached my side with a sword he had found somewhere along the way, and ended her through the heart.

The room had stilled. The stench of blood and sweat would be engrained in this room for a while. Panting, I looked around at what remained of the scene. Braeton had severed Girault's head and was now bringing it to the doors, effectively stopping what fight remained as the unmarked soldiers who were trying so desperately to gain entry into the hall now turned and fled. Pettypiece and king Joasten were backing him up, and a fresh arrival of palace guards who had been trying to reach us from the outside were now able to flood into the hall. Relief filled me, I saw plenty of injuries on all involved, but I saw none of our people on the floor. The surprise attack had done just what it needed to do.

I looked down at my hands. Shaking, awful tremors consumed my arms. My pulse was still high and fast, never in my life had I witnessed so much death in so little time, and I was responsible for a good amount of it.

A hand landed softly on my shoulder, and I looked into Rorik's eyes. Blood spray smeared his cheek, he had taken a few close nicks of the blade on his arm, but he was well enough to stand.

"Thank you," Rorik said, his voice low and his breath short. "You saved all of our lives."

I shook my head, still trembling. "No, no you came in calmly. You had a plan, you were plotting this when you pretended to get caught. You-"

"You were my plan." 

I went numb, cold. "What?"

"You were my plan. I was well and truly out of options, and I put my faith in you." He smiled, that lopsided grin that usually infuriated me but now I was just glad that he was alive and able to put it across his face. "And it seems to have paid off."

The room spun. "I think I'm going to pass out," I said weakly.

"None of that now." Rorik took my elbow and guided me to a chair not sprayed with blood. I took a few breaths trying to calm down as more people came our direction.

"It seems you were gathering people while we were off to war, little brother." Mason approached, unbothered by the state of his clothing or the blood on it. One wrist was still wrapped in rope, but his hands were free as he handed over the dagger I had first give him as well as the two I'd left for Braeton and Mason once the fight started.

The knives, each with their own share of red smeared down the blades, were set on a table next to me. I stared at them, pondering the part they played in this fight, and what would have happened if the princes' didn't have them.

Crying from the corner was loud, and we all turned to see the queen, the crown princess, and little princess Rosalie crying together while a distressed Pettypiece was trying to console them.

"I'd better go see to that," Mason said, but turned to face me one last time. "Thank you, my lady. I look forward to talking knives with you at whatever banquet Father will likely throw in your honor."

I paled. "Wonderful."

Rorik elbowed me. "Oof! I mean, yes your highness."

Mason laughed, a full-bellied sound that reminded me very much of Jexa, and went to console his mother. Rorik sighed as he sank into a chair next to me. "I can't believe how close that sneaky bastard came to achieving his goal."

I winced. "Don't say that, I don't even want to think about it."

Rorik chuckled, and as I glanced his way I saw someone over his shoulder. Lean, scarred, quiet as a mouse, Dirk was letting himself be seen outside of a shadow as he watched me. My face fell, and after seeing my new expression, Rorik turned to see him as well.

"Please, approach," the prince said. "I would like to know the name of one of our saviors."

Dirk nodded gruffly, likely the most sociable movement he had up his sleeve, and moved with caution until he was facing us.

"Do you know our Sly well then, prince?" Dirk asked.

My eyes fell away. This was the thing in the pit of my stomach that kept me up at night. Balancing the life I had with the daggers against the secrets I was keeping for Rorik. And now that they were on the edge of clashing together, I was overwhelmed with that guilt that had been eating me up.

"Salysta has been a valuable companion to me for months. If it weren't for her, we would never have brought down Grethan, nor Girault for that matter. You must be one of her companions, and if I had to wager a guess, you must be Dirk."

My head moved to stare at Rorik as he spoke.

"That I am, highness." Dirk laughed. "Glad to see you were willing to admit to knowing one of us."

Now it was Dirk I was staring hard at. "Why aren't you shocked?"

Dirk reached over to tousle my hair. "I've known, Sly. You think I was going to let you play spies in this city without me knowin' who you were playin' with? Davery would haunt me every year's end if he knew."

"I'm so glad you approve," Rorik mused.

"But, how? No, you'll never tell me. Then, who else knows? Jexa?" My eyes darted around the room to see where the other daggers were.

"Jexa? Absolutely not, he couldn't follow a trail if his life depended on it. And the kid's too new, too fresh. It's just me, but I told them you were fine enough with what you were up to. You worried us, you know."

I was on my feet in a heartbeat, throwing my arms around him. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Dirk. I wanted to tell you but how do you tell someone something like this?"

Dirk wrapped an arm around my shoulders, patting the top of my head as he soothed me. "Shh, all is well, Sly. There's not one dammed thing you could do to make us mad at you. Frustrated to death and back, but not mad. Sometimes I forget you're not the young girl I met all those years ago."

Gasping, I pulled back from Dirk, wincing at the wet patch of tears I left on his tunic. But that wasn't important right now, what was important was- "Olianne!"

Rorik's expression took a serious turn. "You know where she is?"

I nodded, striding toward the doors that would take me up to the hidden passage the quickest. "We found one of your great whatever uncle's passages. Or, I should say she found it well before I did. She's clever, Rorik. I think you two have more in common than you think."

Rorik signaled Mason and Pettypiece to come with us, and they all followed me as I brought them to Oleanne's hiding place. There were no soldiers left wandering the halls, and the path was clear as I pulled back the tapestry to reveal a sobbing Olianne as she threw her arms around Mason's shoulders, the closest of her family members when the passage was revealed.

"I was so frightened," the princess sobbed into her big brother's shoulder. "I thought you were all going to be k-killed."

"And leave you alone? Never, Ollie." Mason rubbed her back and Pettypiece and Rorik explored the tunnel. Once the princess had calmed down enough, Mason took her back down to be with the rest of the family while I waited at the tunnel for Rorik to come out.

"I can't believe this was where it was the whole time," Rorik said. "What stroke of luck brought you and my sister there?"

I offered him an explanation, stopping to answer questions as Pettypiece and Rorik had them. I left out Olianne's usage to avoid needlework and stealing cakes, but the gist of the story remained. At the end, Rorik whistled.

"Arden, feel free to use this passage to your heart's content, but let's keep this a secret, shall we? I'll have a talk with my family to do the same," Rorik said. "Good job, Sly. You really saved the day."

"No, I don't think so. It took every single one of us down there playing our parts, or we never would have made it out alive."

"I agree," Pettypiece said, ruffling his mustache. "This was an ordeal that was well planned out. Girault had planned for too much, even the distraction at the gates was meticulous."

Rorik sighed. "It's over now, at least the old spymaster is gone and we have a fresh slate to work with. Unfortunately, after this ordeal, I believe it's time to come clean to my family exactly what I've been up to lately."

I furrowed my brow. "What do they think you've been doing?"

He shrugged. "Reading Girault's old documents."

I waited for more, but nothing came. "Wait, that's all? They don't know about the office? Your great-something uncle's diary? None of it?"

He grinned. "None of it, but I believe the time is right for me to grasp that position of spymaster."

Rorik reached out to shake hands with the captain. "And you'll be with me?"

"Always, highness," Pettypiece answered.

Rorik moved his hand away, then offered it to me. "And you, Salysta, I know we said until this mess with Girault was finished, but what do you say about sticking around a little longer?"

I stared at the outstretched hand. A glove that probably cost more than my childhood home, dusted in grime and splattered with blood. The prince who was unafraid of putting in the work.

"I'll understand if you wish to stop. You've more than earned it," he said, softer this time.

Looking him in the eye, I grinned. "I have a condition."

"Oh?" He mused. "And what is that, Lady Aylward?"

"Make room in your fancy new budget for the rest of the daggers, and you've got yourself a deal."

He laughed as I clasped my hand with his. "I think that can be arranged. Salysta Aylward, you have yourself a deal."