Of course the duel is best two out of three. Ptolema set down her knife, while Captain picked two wooden daggers off the table. He sheathed one of them. Ptolema stepped onto the dueling platform boldly, for she had no weapons. Ptolema grinned as she stood straight up and rolled her neck. Her blonde hair in two braids, now, hung low to her ass. The Captain smiled back at her, flipping the daggers in his hand.

She planted her feet into a fighting stance and growled at him. He laughed as he did the same.

"Are you ready to lose?" He asked with a slight weariness in his eyes. "Begin!"

Ptolema held her ground. So did the low life Captain. Neither engaged on one another. Ptolema finally drew in a breath and ran for him. He ducked beneath her punch, but lunged too late to miss her kick to his side. He stumbled backwards with shock written all over his face. Ptolema's smile spread across her face.

The Captain held his anger inside of himself well enough to get back up and steady himself. He swung his arm at Ptolema but she trapped it inside of her kick-jump and twisted him onto his back. She then kicked the wooden dagger from both hands while he was in shock from the blow.

"Are you going to give up, or should I punch the life out of you?" Ptolema scowled into his ear. The Captain quickly put his hands into a surrender. She quickly got off of him and kicked him out of the ring, hard. He fell out with a groan of anger and pain. Ptolema was sure she had broken a bone or two.

Ptolema could not help but laugh while saying, "I won. Now are we done playing your little boring game, or should I stay and beat your little ass again?"

"Take her to her room," the Captain demanded his worthless bodyguard friends. Ptolema left without his bodyguards, she went straight for her room.

When she came up to her room, she slammed the door behind her and jumped on the bed. Ptolema grabbed the closest pillow and screamed into it until her voice was gone. After her voice became a horse, Ptolema walked around her room, poking at everything. She dug her nails into each wooden plank to try and find a way out. She only stopped after her blood was on every inch of the room. She had claimed her room now; if a person dare come in, she would give no mercy.

Blood dropped from her hand and onto the already bloody floor as she walked over to her bed and sat down. The soft mattress cradled her body as she leaned back and rested her eyes.

{|《~》|}

Droian walked to her door silently. He put his ear to the door and listened to Ptolema. She screamed and screamed. He did nothing, just stood and listened. Her voice was harsh and meaningful. She screamed with meaning, not in pain or in vein. She sounded determined to do something.

She stopped the screaming and the banging. Dorian kept his ear to the door. A voice, a beautiful voice started to sing from within her room. Damn, she could sing. Droian wanted the voice to last forever, he wanted the voice to be heard. Ptolema began on the chorus over and over again.

Droian knew he's heard the song before but can not remember where from. He has been to so many parties and orchestras and concerts he cannot even count all of them.

Someone tapped Droian on the shoulder, making him jump and spin around.

"The King would like to see you in his throne room right this very moment," the Captain of the Guard said with a slight smirk.

Droian glared at the Captain as he walked past him and into the throne room. His father sat on top of his black throne proudly. Guards surrounded the entire room, all of them have blanked out faces and no sign of breathing. Droian noticed that he was not breathing either.

"You asked for me, father?" He said to break the silence. The King only laughed.

"My sweet and darling son, how did I create such a vulnerable subject in this world?"  The King said it more of a statement than a question. "Here, son." The King took a big golden ring out of his pocket and handed it to Droian. The King explained that it used to be his father's, and now, he wants Droian to have it. Without a second thought, Droian put the ring on. It made him feel a little dizzy, but he thought it was just because his father is being nice and he is not used to all he niceness.

"Is that all, father?" Droian asked politely.

"Is Ptolema ready to leave by tomorrow morning for her first mission?" The King asked while walking back to his throne.

"My, my. Tomorrow morning seems a bit early, doesn't it?" The Prince asked, turning the ring on his finger.

"I need this man killed immediately! She will be ready by tomorrow or she dies!" The King demanded and motioned for his son to leave.

Damn it! Damn it! Damnnnnn itttttttt! Droian kept thinking to himself. He had to warn the Captain, now. Their plans might have to be earlier then expected.