Arth's viewpoint

There are many unmistakable sounds in this world, and those that stand out most clearly are the ones coming from the next. It was not so much the sound of the blade as it was the sound uttered from the king's lips that led me to believe that he was dead in but a moment. Something primal gripped me at that exact instant of knowledge, and it caused me to believe that the Queen was in danger. From whence one sword is plunged, oft another waits. My poor Lady Kisa was likely quite startled by my sudden action, but such was necessary for her safety. My grasp of her arm brought her quickly to standing, and my escort out the throne room was equally hurried. The only things keeping me from breaking into a flat run were the Queen's smaller strides, my own watchfulness, and the need to stay balanced enough to repel any further attack. I considered it best to exit the throne room through the back doors, hoping that the two of us would be able to put more distance between ourselves and a possible subsequent **** attempt before being detained by a zealous guard or a misguided Prince. The Gods know that the Princes are often not the most intelligent pair, whether it be the lazy mischeviousness of Wrobel or the foolish valor of Adler.

Queen Kisa kept pace with me admirably as we hastened through the hallways behind the throne room. She was not accustomed to such exertion, having lived primarily a life luxurious and sedentary. To be fair, she was not to be held entirely at fault for this, for she was required at nearly all times to be in the presence of the King. She followed me through the hallways with long strides, leveraging well her average height and build. I say average, because at a distance she would appear to be constructed much in the way of any other human, but in approaching her, the senses drew in nothing average. I would consider her form to be both life-giving and murderous, for her rounded hips and ample bosom had borne our late King a full collection of children, but they had also been the cause of many a fatal duel before she was wed (and, some say under whispered breath, after as well). Kisa's face looked at me as we ran down that hallway, slight lines of concern creasing the delicate features of her porcelain face, wrinkles upon her finely bridged nose, her small full lips pursed. Her eyes, large and rounded as well and with irises black as ink, displayed clearly her inner turmoil. The black in her eyes was framed by her long and straight black locks, her hair falling to each side of her shoulders in thick braids.

Having momentarily lost myself in admiration of the Queen, I was startled by and stumbled over a large barrier in the corridor. Looking down, I saw that it was one of the royal guards, disarmed, and with a slit throat. I tried to hurry the Queen along and keep her from noticing, but from her reaction, I could tell that my attempt was fruitless. There was no time to comfort her, alas, and we hurried through hallways until reaching a small trapdoor, hidden under some furs. I do not imagine that many know of the existence of this tunnel, and it proved to be a safe escape for the Queen and myself. The tunnel is not overly long, but it is long enough to deposit those taking it under the safe cover of the trees of the forest.