The Assassin's Court

Chapter 1

Outside of the ballroom doors, stands Vivian Raven.
The wind brushes cold air against her face, making a few strands of hair escaping the high-held bun worn elegantly upright. She twists them behind her ears, hoping to somewhat stylize it once more.
Her long, midnight purple gown flows down to her heels, creating a dramatic effect. Silver jewels are worn on her neck, as well as on her wrists, showcasing her wealth.
As she stares at the stars, forever wishing that she could simply leave this wretched ball and instead run across the hills, and enter the depths of nature, the moon shines bright, making a perfect spotlight to see the people below.
Men and women alike are dressed in expensive outfits, each one clearly costing a fortune. Especially since most of them consist of Silver Fleks—the rarest type of feather, gathered from Fleks. They're truly beautiful creatures that soar through the clouds with wide, open wings. Such a shame to see them killed simply for one's own outfit. She sighs, thinking of the poor things falling from the sky, shot down by a person who will never actually own the feathers. But instead, will sell them to the highest bidder. She's seen it done before. Too many times to count.
Her palms stretch out once more, contracting muscles with each strain. Until now, she did not realize that she's been curling her hands into fists, making her knuckles bone-white. Oh, how she would love to just slash someone right now. Particular those obnoxious boys that stood at the entrance a few minutes ago, whispering not-so-quite remarks about her figure.
Figuring she should go inside, she straightens her gown once more and put on the best damn smile she can muster. Tonight, she will be a wonderful actress.

When the grand doors open, no one notices the assassin. After all, why is another young woman searching for a hand, worth examining?
The chatter of voices echoes throughout the room as a symphony plays a series of songs. A few hushed laughs, as well as some very unpleasant ones, can be heard. Many people dance with a partner in hand, as they swoop down low, exposing their cleavage, purposefully. Most women are dressed in long evening gowns that are almost all bright colors, as men wear neat black suits with dapper ties.
Though, there is this one man who looks different from the rest. Instead of wearing the classic black suit, he wears a dark grey one, with a deep red tie. And unlike the men that surround him, his black hair isn't styled for perfection. No, it is wild. As if a woman has been running her hands through it all night. Seems likely. After all, he is evidently attractive.

•

The dull noblemen that surround Damon Kingsley are speaking of nonsense. First, it is of the kingdom's wealth, and then of the fine ladies that scatter throughout the ballroom. None are worth noting, at least for him. They look all the same. Radiant yellow and pink gowns with much makeup caked onto their faces. It's hard to tell exactly what they look like under all the powder.
But, this one woman. Well, she is interesting. He noticed her out of the corner of his eye, lingering on the balcony outside of the glass doors. Does she know that all can see her?
Though, not that they look. They don't care. They only see what's right in front of them, and not what is mysteriously waiting in the shadows.
She wears a color that most wouldn't dare think of choice since it is quite dark. But, with her silky black hair framed across her face, she looks elegantly beautiful. And somewhat bold, in a way.
Yes, something is definitely unordinary about that woman.
As she walks down the steps, picking up the ends of her gown, he cannot help but stare. He didn't suspect that there would be many distractions tonight. It's something he cannot afford. So, he shakes the thoughts of the mysterious woman out of his mind and turns back to the noblemen, who didn't even see that he was no longer listening. Stupid, ignorant old men.
Damon interrupts their meaninglessness conversation, mid-sentence. "So, Duke Iverson, what is your duty within the kingdom of Cadeon?"
His smile falters. "Let us not speak of such things at a ball."
Damon brings his hand to rest on his chin and puts his index finger over his lips. "But it would be such an honor to hear the glorious accomplishments of yours!"
His smile returns, accept this time filled with utter pride. The people of this kingdom are so easy to manipulate.
"Well, if you insist." A grin. "My duty as a Duke is to rule the small independent lands of Cadeon."
"Magnificent! And what lands do you rule?"
"Levinstine and Klandon. The two most prestigious provinces."
"Are they full of wealth and resourceful goods?"
He straightens his posture, once more. "Why, yes."
"What about the gates? Are they well guarded? I mean they have to be since the lands are so valuable, correct?"
"Valuable indeed. But you must not worry about security. Trust me, it is well guarded."
He slips his hands in the insides of his pockets. "Very well. Good night, sir."
He nods his head, approvingly, no doubt feeling triumphant.