The man in black armor wasted no time. He grabbed the collar of my dress and threw me into the guardhouse. I landed on the stone floor and let out a pained groan. The woman glanced at me with bored disinterest. "Who is this?" she asked.

"Found her outside spying on you," the man replied. "Looked like she was planning to run off and tell."

The woman knelt in front of me. "You wouldn't happen to know where High King Ciaran is, would you?" she said. Her expression was kind and inviting, but a light in her eyes told me that her friendly demeanor was a thin veil to something terrifying. I knew that a wrong answer would probably be my last. I closed my fist tightly around Ciaran's ring and hoped feverishly that neither of them noticed. A series of panicked shouts echoed outside the guardhouse followed by the sound of people running about. The woman looked up at the man. "It seems your handiwork has been discovered."

"At least I did my job," he said. My mind raced to connect their statements. The man in black armor was obviously Princess Helene's murderer. And if this woman's turn was next… she was here to kill Ciaran! More shouting outside. The entire tournament was in a panic.

"I'd be delighted to do my job," the woman said. "But no one seems to have any idea where he might be." I bit my lip. She noticed. "Oh, but this one seems to be hiding something." She examined me with a critical eye. "Red hair. House Ars, then." She ran a finger along my jawline slowly, lightly. It would have been a comforting touch if not for the silver gauntlet that dug into my skin. "Where is your master?" She pressed the tip of her gauntlet into my neck. "We really are in a terrible hurry." A sudden blast of cold filled the room, and a flurry of ice and snow wrapped around her, pushing her away from me. I felt the ice against my skin and recognized it's chill immediately. Ciaran's Dragongift.

"I heard you were looking for me." As the snowflakes settled to the ground, I made out his form standing in the doorway. His eyes glowed a brilliant blue. "Assassins, are you? Who sent you?"

The woman stood and smiled. Another inviting smile that covered a killer intent with the thinnest of veneer. "Hello, High King Ciaran," she cooed.

"Future," he corrected on reflex.

"More like never," she retorted. She and the man in black armor drew their swords simultaneously and lunged for my brother.