She refuses to fall

Unarmed, ****, and deep in enemy territory. It was almost funny how much danger she was in, but such risk was exactly what she lived for. Her heart thumped wildly, threatening to escape her chest with its erratic beating, all the while her entire body felt like it was undergoing a slow paralysis. Alice knew she only had maybe a minute or two before she was completely and utterly helpless, and she knew had to do something, anything. Fortunately, it seems that the arch-bishop has already counted her out, and was already gazing at his prize. His eyes swept her up and down like a slab of meat, one hand on her arm and creeping ever closer towards her chest.

"Apologies, I may need your help to get back..." Alice mumbled quietly, feigning weakness. She really didn't have to pretend that hard, since she really did feel that powerless, but it was enough to draw Currell in, and that was when she struck. Biting down on her tongue hard enough to draw blood, using the pain to shock her nerves awake, she lunged forward as the metallic taste of her own blood filled her mouth. She wasn't strong, but Currell was a frail old man in his seventies who was caught by surprise, and he didn't stand a chance.

The top of her head slammed into his chin and he roared sharply in pain, only for it to be cut off when her hand grasped his neck tightly, **** out any sound that escape him into a tiny gasp. With her other hand, she held onto the table, desperately making sure she didn't fall pathetically when her adrenaline wore off.

Still holding tightly onto his neck, Alice dragged him towards her, forcing him to look in her eyes that were ignited by fury. "Fool!" She hissed, trying to ignore how the background was swirling back and forth. If her hand wasn't clutching onto him, there was a very real chance she wouldn't be standing right now.

"You live because I deem it necessary," she growled. A **** investigation would destroy her chances at the throne, especially when the victim was the arch-bishop, but that doesn't mean she was going to tolerate his existence forever. He will die by her hand, she'll see to it personally. "But know this: when I am queen, I will tear this cathedral apart brick by brick and bury you alive in the rubble."

Using brute **** in a game of subterfuge is usually considered a loss, but sometimes, Alice knew that such acts were inevitable. And when she saw the look of abject terror in the arch-bishop's eyes, she knew she had made the right choice.

"Finley, to my side!" She called out, letting go of the arch-bishop, who crumples to the ground, gasping for air. When her knight arrives, the sight of Currell makes him gasp out loud, but that surprise is quickly overshadowed by Alice, who grabs onto his arm and leans against him, her entire body weight pressed to his side. "Go. Now. We're leaving."