She was dead, of that there could be no doubt. The delicate slit across her throat was a clue, but the dagger buried nearly to the hilt between her breasts left no room for misunderstanding. The dagger was his of course. It's twin was still lying on the pile of their clothes.
He had brought her to his bed in the early hours before dawn. The mating had been passionate and fevered, just as all the other times. They exhausted each other and he had watched as she had fallen asleep. Her deep rhythmic breathing was the last thing he heard before finding sleep himself. He looked at her now, surprised at how beautiful she remained. Even death could not rob her of her beauty. Leaning over to kiss her, feeling strangely emotionless and detached, he yanked the dagger free from her chest.
He twisted himself up in the bed, wiping the blood from the dagger with the coarse sheets. Her assassin had been elven. Few others could have entered and did the work with no disturbance. Now he need to figure out who and why. Who could have wanted her dead" Who even could have known she was here in his bed" These questions snapped at him as he roused himself fully awake.
He felt the footsteps before he heard them, keen elven senses felt the vibration of many feet and they were coming closer. It became clear then. They were coming for him. A flicker of a smile crossed his lips as he shook his head. How stupid he had been. Surely they had planned this for some time. He had played right into their hands. They would find her dead in his bed and he would be imprisoned and executed. They would care not that she was dead but they would care that she was human. That alone carried a death sentence.
He quickly dressed, slipping a dagger into each boot and grabbing his traveling cloak from it's hook. He stood just as they arrived at his door. Scrambling up the stairs, he perched on the window sill and turned to watch them come through the door. There were many, just as he knew there would be. Dressed in black, some with bows and others with daggers and clubs, they poured through the small doorway. He grimaced a bit as they roughly dragged her from the bed and tossed her to the floor like a rag doll. Where is he? The first drow growled as he spun on one directly behind him. You assured us he would be here. Even from a distance he could sense the fear in the second elf. He...he was here commander, I swear it. I followed them here myself. I watched... The sentence was never finished as the dagger took the subordinate drow just under the chin. Let this be a lesson, the drow captain glared at those gathered before him. I will not tolerate incompetence. He gestured at the naked woman on the floor. Get that trash out of my sight.
With silent and fluid motion, he leapt from the window onto the lower roof and then to the ground. It was child's play to silence the drow guarding the horses. The same dagger that he had just moments ago pulled from his lover's breast, was shoved through the back of the guard's neck. Cutting the leather thong holding it to the post, he slipped on the back of the dark pony and guided it into the night. Questions answered, he who would be Prince had become a fugitive.
He had brought her to his bed in the early hours before dawn. The mating had been passionate and fevered, just as all the other times. They exhausted each other and he had watched as she had fallen asleep. Her deep rhythmic breathing was the last thing he heard before finding sleep himself. He looked at her now, surprised at how beautiful she remained. Even death could not rob her of her beauty. Leaning over to kiss her, feeling strangely emotionless and detached, he yanked the dagger free from her chest.
He twisted himself up in the bed, wiping the blood from the dagger with the coarse sheets. Her assassin had been elven. Few others could have entered and did the work with no disturbance. Now he need to figure out who and why. Who could have wanted her dead" Who even could have known she was here in his bed" These questions snapped at him as he roused himself fully awake.
He felt the footsteps before he heard them, keen elven senses felt the vibration of many feet and they were coming closer. It became clear then. They were coming for him. A flicker of a smile crossed his lips as he shook his head. How stupid he had been. Surely they had planned this for some time. He had played right into their hands. They would find her dead in his bed and he would be imprisoned and executed. They would care not that she was dead but they would care that she was human. That alone carried a death sentence.
He quickly dressed, slipping a dagger into each boot and grabbing his traveling cloak from it's hook. He stood just as they arrived at his door. Scrambling up the stairs, he perched on the window sill and turned to watch them come through the door. There were many, just as he knew there would be. Dressed in black, some with bows and others with daggers and clubs, they poured through the small doorway. He grimaced a bit as they roughly dragged her from the bed and tossed her to the floor like a rag doll. Where is he? The first drow growled as he spun on one directly behind him. You assured us he would be here. Even from a distance he could sense the fear in the second elf. He...he was here commander, I swear it. I followed them here myself. I watched... The sentence was never finished as the dagger took the subordinate drow just under the chin. Let this be a lesson, the drow captain glared at those gathered before him. I will not tolerate incompetence. He gestured at the naked woman on the floor. Get that trash out of my sight.
With silent and fluid motion, he leapt from the window onto the lower roof and then to the ground. It was child's play to silence the drow guarding the horses. The same dagger that he had just moments ago pulled from his lover's breast, was shoved through the back of the guard's neck. Cutting the leather thong holding it to the post, he slipped on the back of the dark pony and guided it into the night. Questions answered, he who would be Prince had become a fugitive.