The King's death hit hard to everyone's heart. Dione had never met the king himself but Iris's father spoke highly of him and Dione could only imagine the kindness and majesty he had. Dione had attended the funeral with Linos, her cousin whom she enjoyed spending time with him- even if it was mostly in silence as they both read their own books.

With all the sadness Dione needed to get away; perhaps romanticize? Yes that sounded smart, she felt accomplished for that feeling and wished to share it with her knowledge loving cousin. So she insisted on them going and reading to chase the spirits of death and sadness away. It took some convincing to get Linos out to the cliff sides but eventually he caved and together they went. Dione found a soft patch of grass to lounge in and read her poetry whilst Linos sat and studied what ever philosophy he had most recently been reading.

Dione read poems about love, how lovers meet, their bond, how they looked at each other. The woman so wanted that in her life. She wanted a strong man who could protect her. Soon Dione was no longer reading but once again fantasizing about a man. The movement of Linos standing brought her back quickly as she noticed how low the sun had gotten. With the help of her cousin she stood and brushed herself off while Linos gathered his belongings.

Together they set off and made their way back home. But along the way Linos said he had to go to the palace to get some things and Dione obliged, it was only the kind thing to do as she had only a few hours earlier begged him to go to the cliff sides. So through the streets they went to the palace. Dione didn't know her way around most of the palace and was surprised to see how large it actually was.

Linos's study was somewhat lack luster in Dione's eyes. It needed a woman's touch! The walls were totally windowless giving Dione some frame of reference that they were along the inner walls of the large building. Dione trailed along the books pulling out and reading the titles of those that caught her interest. Most all of them were books that Linos tended to read, and there were almost no poetry books.

The scuffle of foot steps caused Dione to pause. Linos was totally absorbed in finding what ever he had come to get when a loud crash pulled him out of his search. Dione scampered to her cousin basically pushing him to the door as the sounds of metal hit. A man yelled and Dione froze, her ocean eyes wide with fear. The closing of the large door caused her to jump and she frantically looked around.

There was no way out of the room, there were no windows, there was no other door. They were trapped. "Linos whats happening? What are those screams!?" She whispered her voice full of terror. Dione pulled her wrap around her body closer as she slowly sank to the floor. 'We're going to die here.' She thought, the thought clearly written on her face, 'Iris will find me dead here!'

The day had seemed to drag on and on and ooon! From the first announcement of the King's passing on into the Underworld, to the long proceedings of the funeral ceremony and onward to everyone departing solemnly back to their own residences to mourn their deceased beloved king even more. Alehandros would have been in a lost stupor of what to do next, after the burning pyre had released his beloved uncle's body from the confines of the mortal world, if he had not had his weeping wife and softly crying daughters to worry and attend to. With the help of his trusty friend and retainer, Perikles, Alehandros was able to round up his flock of Antonis women and get them ushered off home to their Archontiko. He sent Perikles ahead of the family carriage transporting Alehandros's daughters back to the estate. Alehandros had given him a message to tell the Antonis servants: to get the evening meal going as all of the Antonis's extended family members would be eating there tonight. It wasn't every day both Antonis households slept under the same roof.

This had let Alehandros hold Sotiria tightly in his embrace as they waited for the crowds to thin so they could return to their horses. While he held his wife, his chin resting on the top of her head, he conversed with Lacides of Antonis about various things. In time, Alehandros and Sotiria had returned to their residence, Ale having made sure to give Persephone and Emilia his deepest condolences at some point that day. Reassuring that if they ever needed a shoulder to lean on, he would be there if they saw fit to call upon him. They were still family, even after the last senate meeting, politics would never stop Alehandros from loving his family, no matter how distant, unconditionally. Even if the other Antonis did not understand this, it was just who he was.

That evening, a feast was prepared to feed the members of House Antonis, but sadly, not many had enjoyed the meal like they should have. The funeral seemed to have stolen everyone's appetites... Even Alehandros had eaten lightly that evening. Which was saying something, considering he always had extra little helpings of the sweeter entrees, but he hadn't that night. Going to bed seemed like an obligation more than a relief that night. So much was now to change and be implemented after the passing of Minas, one's mind just could not let go to allow a restful sleep to happen. And just when Ale was actually starting to snore as he finally found deeper sleep, he awoke sharply to the unsettled rustling of Sotiria getting out of bed.

And so Alehandros was then up off and on, whenever his poor wife was getting rid of sick from all the pent up nerves of the day. It had been very stressful, he knew, on his wife to attend a funeral of a man that had left his daughters behind to fend for themselves in the world. The scenario mimicked Sotiria's in many ways and Alehandros was reminded of the many hours of their youth after first meeting her, the teenage girl sobbing in his arms over the loss of her own father. He held her similarly tonight, consoling her that it was fine, softly telling her she'd be fine and by morning she would be calm enough to keep breakfast down. It was when he was dozing off again, his head drooping on top of hers when a knock rang out from their bedroom door.

This was not a welcomed interruption. It was young Hyla of Nikolaos, Alehandros's youngest retainer, reporting that he'd received news from Lacides or Stelios, the boy wasn't sure which had given the order to wake his master. He was to inform Alehandros that witnesses had noticed suspicious activity and seen a dense amount of heavily armed and unidentifiable men gathering outside the Palati's walls. It was suspected a siege may be in the works. Instantly, this got the Head of Antonis on his feet in sheer panicked worry.

Was there an actual attack planned on the palace? The new monarch? So soon? Was it only at the palace or were other Dynasteia being targeted within the city's Inner Circle? There wasn't a single family that wasn't residing in their Archontiko residence that evening, at least that Alehandros knew. So it would be disastrously perfect to target all important families while attacking the crown itself, whomever these attackers were. If they were smart enough to get so close to the palace without sounding a city-wide alarm... who knew what they were capable of!?

"Wake my daughters. Get Perikles for me immediately! I need servants for messengers, too." Alehandros dismissed the boy in a flurry, "Sotiria, come on. We can't take risks. This could mean dangers for all the royal families." He pulled her to her feet and off the bed. "We don't know details, but it's better to be safe than sorry. Give our daughters your strength; I'm sending you and them with Lysta and Vasia out of here immediately. To our closest province. I need to find Lacides, too. Damn it!" Alehandros was in a flustered bother, grabbing up clothes to put on quickly.

"PERIKLES!" He roared and was pleased for the instant reply, as Ale hadn't noticed the man just appearing at the door.
"Yes, M'lord."
"Where are the messengers? Where's Elara? ELARA!!" His voiced boomed, unnaturally of him, out into the echoing spacious halls of the home.
"Hyla is getting the messengers now. The girls have been awoken, sir."
"Good. Sotiria. Tend to them. Explain what is to happen. Everyone needs to stay calm. This could just be a fluke, but if the source is credible enough that this has captured the attentions of either Stelios or Lacides..." He trailed off as he took Sotiria in a quick embrace and kissed her, "Precautions of safety are never a waste, my love. Be my shining Northern Star tonight, and I will find you when the coast is clear. I must go to Lacides now." He kissed her one more time before ushering her off to Elara as the retainer finally appeared.

"Come Perikles, I need those messengers." With that Alehandros and Perikles departed to find Lacides of Antonis. The pounding thrum of adrenaline in him from the minute Hyla had announced the probable bad news to when Ale had finally caught up with Lacides to have the words confirmed made the rush of panic feel hours long instead of mere moments. Immediately, Alehandros sent messengers out to both House Marikas and House (temporarily former house) Stravos, to warn them of the disaster facing the Royal Palati and that it was unknown as of yet if any other Royal families were being besieged. He added that what Antonis military forces remained in the capitol were being rallied to help the guards of the Palace, suggesting any available soldiers stand with them in defending the palace. the messenger bound for House Marikas was given additional instruction to tell his mother and sisters to be safe. Alehandros, understanding the urgency of the situation with the potential for attacks to be launched on all the Royal houses, would have harsh consequences for any messenger that did not get to the other Archontikos in a hurry.

Like the true, loyal soldiers that they were to the kingdom and crown; Lacides, Mateos, and Stelios had readied what small, elite forces of guards and remaining Antonis military soldiers were available in efficient time. Unaccustomed to donning armor of any kind, Alehandros had suited up very snugly in a light set of armor he'd used only on one other occasion. He was ready to join his Antonis brethren in aiding to hopefully save the crown. Amidst the hectic preparations, Alehandros made sure to quickly say goodbye to the womenfolk of his family. As plans had it, Patros would be sent with a few hand-picked trusty guards and servants trained by the sword. They were to escort the ladies and remaining personnel beneath Antonis roof out of the city and to their closest province residence. It was a hard choice to not go with them, but Alehandros felt it was his duty, for the first real chance, to take up arms beside his uncle and cousins and fight. Alehandros actually fighting in a battle... that was a new idea.

Alehandros hurried with the Antonis troops and lords at the side gate where the sounds of battle were already raging. So the suspicions had been correct... the palace was under attack! As a lad, it honestly took a bit of encouragement from Perikles for Alehandros to step forth and swing his sword against an enemy. Today, he'd show the world that he had true Antonis blood coursing through his veins. Family meant everything to him, and right now, two young women of his family were in danger, and with no father there to protect them. He couldn't have stayed away and live with himself for doing nothing. Furthermore, they bore the crowns of the monarch, and that above all, needed to be defended. Persephone and Emilia needed to be reached. They would figure out who these perpetrators were after the Queen and Princess were safe. It was his worry and concern for his cousins that held Alehandros's hand steady as he entered into the throng of combat and sliced the tip of his sword across a man's throat for the very first time, the man's blood splattering across his visage.

They could see that the raiders were already beyond the courtyard and storming the palace. Wielding a blade in a constant battle to death, Alehandros prayed to Ares for the first time for his own sake, as he slew another. This new carnal high he was experiencing was far greater than any he'd experienced in combat practices, and it seemed to heighten his awareness of the world around him as he fought. He stayed close to Lacides and Stelios, as they were the far superior fighters than he, yet he wasn't doing too bad for a rookie soldier, either. It really felt more natural to him than he would've ever believed.

"Stelios!" He shouted over the din of clashing swords, shields, and screams of war and pain. "We need to get in there!" Alehandros pointed towards the palace entrance from the front gates they were fighting to gain control of from the raiders. His eyes widened as he watched Stelios skewer a man to the ground with a spear. Partially horrified, partially intrigued. Could he do that, too? "AAH!" Alehandros roared, more in shock than actual pain, adrenaline dulled the main pain, as a raider caught him off-guard. The man's blade grazed skin as it slipped beneath the seam of Alehandros's shoulder armor. Before he himself could retaliate, Lacides took care of the offender in one swift movement with a snarling roar that would have curdled milk into cheese.

Lacides barked orders at a few soldiers to help Stelios and Ale to either break through or find a hole in the resistance at the gate. The general had added some comment of him and Mateos catching up with them later. So with that, Alehandros helped in concentrating on strategizing to fight their way through the weakest spots at the door to gain entry. In the back of his mind, numb to the clash of swords and din of war cries, Alehandros prayed to the gods they weren't too late for Queen Persephone and Princess Emilia's sake.

It had been a long day full of mourning and grieving for Athenia, and the one thing Rodas had wanted to do was get a full night’s rest. It was one of those nights, however, where his mind wouldn’t quiet and allow him to pass into sleep. So he was awake. And restless.

Ordinarily, in Illoclis, when Rodas could not sleep and was not otherwise occupied with a drunken Mateos, he would be wide awake tinkering the wee hours of the night away until Apollo started to pull the sun over the horizon. He had no tools or schematics here, no work station -- and there would certainly be no fraternization with Lord Mateos this evening. To linger about the Antonis Archontiko’s courtyard whcking stuffed dummies or wandering around would be rude, as he was but a guest in their home.

So it was that the sleepless Spears of Cerberus Captain found himself roaming the streets of Athenia’s Inner Circle in the middle of the night. It seemed that with the kingdom in a state of mourning, many of the guardsmen were not on patrol this evening -- or at least, that is what Rodas assumed. He saw no other reason for so few guardsmen to be patrolling the streets of the kingdom’s upper echelon.

It was because the streets were so empty and quiet this evening that Rodas had noticed the unexpected movement near the palati. He ducked into the shadows, much the same as the men he observed gathering near a gate on the palati’s side. They were armed, but there was no sigil or crest to be found on their armor or weapons as far as Rodas could see.

He could not stay and wait to see what they were up to. The numbers were growing steady, just a few at a time, and each man seemed prepared for combat. He had to tell someone. Someone who would believe his word and not wait for the attack to be launched -- by then it would be too late for the Queen and Princess who were inside the palace walls unawares to the events transpiring outside while they slept.

Rodas stealthily moved away from his hiding place and hurried back toward the Antonis Archontiko as fast as his legs could carry him. He was out of breath when he returned but the news he brought with him was both grave and urgent.

He, like many of the military men among the ranks of the Antonis armies, was held to a high standard by the Lords of the Antonis Dynasteia. Rodas was also one of the highest ranking soldiers that had remained in the capitol once the funerary ceremonies had concluded.

While his Lords were not pleased to be disturbed in the middle of the night, they were aware such a thing would not be done unless there was an emergency. Rodas was right to alert them to the threat that was posed to the new monarch, not just because it was the right thing to do, but because he knew they respected him enough to take what he witnessed seriously.

Immediately, all within the Archontiko were being pulled from their beds in a flurry. Messengers were called for and sent to the Barracks of the Athenian Guard, the Marikas Archontiko, and the residence of those belonging to the Former House Stravos. Horses and carriages were prepared to send the Antonis women, Lord Patros, and their escorts into the next province as a safety precaution. Men ran about the yards strapping on armor and collecting weapons.

Soon enough they would be headed for the palace, the sounds of battle echoing through the rather empty streets of the Inner Circle. Rodas couldn’t say he was pleased to see his suspicions were proven correct, but he did feel validated that this wasn’t all a waste of time for House Antonis. Of course, that meant they would be braving a danger that would sent some within their ranks headed for Hades’s underworld.

Like any good Athenian soldier, Rodas was prepared to lay down his life in service to the crown. Though he prayed to Athena that would not be required of him… nor for his commander with whom he raced into the palati’s courtyard alongside.

Rodas led their forces in through the side gate he had spotted the raiders near earlier, noting even as he used his spear to pierce through the armor of an unsuspecting insurgent, that such an entry into the protective walls surrounding the palace would require mutiny. Someone betrayed the kingdom. Someone inside the palace.

But though his mind calculated the circumstances that must have led to such an easy infiltration, he had to keep his focus on the present clashing of swords and shields. He ripped his spear out of one man, plunging it into another and kicking a potential assailant far from striking range -- probably knocked the wind out of that one, he mused with a slight smile on his blood-splattered face.

Men were screaming in pain or shrieking their battlecries, and yet Rodas was still able to make out the voices of Lord Alehandros, Commander Mateos, and General Lacides over the noise.

Alehandros exclaimed he and Stelios needed to clear a path into the palace -- Rodas mentally agreed. The raiders were already inside, Antonis needed men to get in there if there was ever going to be a chance of rescuing the royals. Mateos’s voice sounded from nearby, and Rodas’s brow furrowed spotting one of the unknown warriors lift their blade to strike Mateos from behind while he was recovering from an earlier blow.

“GRAWHHH!!” Rodas grunted in rage, filling the throw of his spear with all his strength of force as it flew through the air.

Straight through the man’s face, his limp corpse and sword both falling to the ground. Battle was both a gory and brutal endeavor, but with Mateos’s attention, Rodas had improved his skills greatly over the years. Rodas ducked behind his shield to guard him from another attacker, knocking their legs out from under them, and pulling a weapon free from the nearest dead body.

Survival was instinctual, but this was a bit more than survival. Fires had been set strategically, and Rodas knew the reinforcements that had been requested would have no way to help if they couldn’t find a way into the courtyard. They needed to gain control of the main gate -- something Lacides must have thought so as well, since he ordered the soldiers and guardsman near him to “Get that damn gate open!!

“I’ll help the General!” Rodas asserted to his Commander, helping him to his feet. “They need you at the door!”

Their forces would need to secure both before they could reclaim the palati from the insurgents. Who knew what chaos ensued from within…

Rodas darted away from Mateos. He would get that gate open if it was the last thing he did.

Sleep had eluded her. Eight hours was not a long time, yet to Emilia it had felt simultaneously like an age, and no time at all. The day had passed by in a blur, as if she was in a dream. But as much as the young princess hoped she was in a dream, there was no denying that she was, essentially, now considered an orphan. The image of her father being burnt to a crisp, his body a lifeless vessal upon the burning pile. She could no longer have the luxury of popping into a room just a few doors away from her to visit her father, or listen to his words of advice for her, left to nothing but a figment of her memories.

The smell of acrid smoke had lingered on her chiton as she had returned, and her maids were quick to freshen her up, in hopes that perhaps, a fresh new gown and a floral bath would help in her spirits. It had never failed before, Emilia had always been able to have her mood lifted with a new gown.

But then again, she's never actually had to suffer through the loss of a parent before.

So in the end, her retainers had decided to put her to bed early. Emilia had not wanted to disturb her sister, and had excused herself to her rooms upon their return from the funeral. Perhaps the only smile she had cracked after, had been when her puppy clambered on her lap, showering her faces with licks as she sat still, whilst her maids brushed her wet hair after her bath. Eschewing with a proper chiton, the young princess had instead chose a simple day frock, for she no longer intended to entertain anyone else for the day. An early night had not been in her books, for she did not think she could sleep. Yet sometimes, for the seventeen year old, people knew better then she did.

It took awhile of coaxing, and Emilia spent a long time staring in to the darkness before sleep finally claimed her. The only comfort she had was the warmth of Labros on her toes. The black puppy was fast asleep, its size bigger then when Nicholai had brought him just a week or so ago, but not yet at its full size.

Funny, and ironic, that it was due to him that she had fallen asleep. But it was also because of Labros, that she woke up.

The first thing Emilia noticed, was that her feet no longer had the familiar weight on them. Only after that, did she notice her young puppy baring his teeth, snarling at the door. Filtered through the wooden, ornate doors, the princess finally realized the odd, uncharacteristics sounds coming through them.

The sound of steel clashing steel, a sound she had only heard in training fields, but never in earnest. Of shouts and screams, all foreign to the ears of a royal princess who had been sheltered and protected all her life. Her mind flashed momentary panic - what was going on? Was her father safe? The brief moment was dulled out by the memory and reminder that her father was now at his safest, possibly reunited with Lucille in the Underworld.

But what was she to do now?

Gingerly laying a hand on Labros so the puppy calmed down, Emilia pushed her sheets away, allowing the sheer white material to float to her ankles as she crept slowly to the door. She knew the protocol - Persephone had ingrained it in her. Whenever something happened in the palace, whatever she did, Emilia was not to leave the safety and sanctity of her rooms until her own personal guards came to get her. And even then, said guards had to carry either her father or sister's seal, before Emilia was to follow them away.

Her curious soul however, also reminded her that today was not simply like any other day. Today had been the day her father had died, and her sister was to be crowned Queen, a law that Athenia had never seen before, and a motion that had angered many other royal and noble houses in their kingdom. Angered the Athenians against her own sister. It was no common day.

So her footsteps brought her to the door, and with one arm cradling Labros's alert and tense body, the other hand cranked open the door.

And her eyes were met with horror.

What she saw was apparently the first line of defense that had crumbled, but whatever it was, it was clear that the palace guards were insufficient to these insurgents. Grunts, shouts, and the screams of death echoed. And while it may be a common sight to many, who would give nary a blink at the sight of death and destruction, it was a whole new world for young Emilia, who had been raised in a cacoon of protection and safety. And the last straw was when, as she poked her head out of her doors, a large body was fell right in front of her, a sword jutting out from its back, lifeless glassy eyes staring at her, a sight that would haunt her nightmares, and brought back the same death and destruction she had first witnessed in Taengea, repressed memories she had tried to forget, all bubbled to surface again.

She screamed.

Persephone hadn't slept the previous night. She had sat up with her father in his final moments and stayed with him as he passed into the Underworld. She hadn't slept after, removing herself from his rooms, allowing the physicians to conduct the necessary processes over the body and had simple stayed in her own rooms. It had taken her nearly two hours to wash her hands, frightened to wash away the feeling of his last touch. She had just sat there on her own, in the dark, having dismissed her maids and unable to process or think until the sun came up. Then had been the rest of the day.

The plans for the funeral, the ceremony itself, the paperwork and proceedings required to turn her from Princess Persephone to Queen Persephone. The engagement paperwork between herself had been finalised in order to have her legitimately ascend. And suddenly there had been parchment before her details plans for the coronation...

It had all been too much. She hadn't been able to process, grieve or even speak with her sister properly. Her and Emilia had caught a brief moment after the funeral in which she had held the curl close, assured her in a low voice that everything would be okay but duty had called her elsewhere almost immediately. She had left Emilia in the care of Aimias and Nicholai, hoping her new pet would at least distract her somewhat. It wouldn't be even a tenth of what was needed to dissuade her mind from the fact that her father had just passed but her elder sister had hoped that it might distract or at least take the edge off while Persephone saw to her duties.

By the time Persephone was able to extract herself from the senators, scribes and advisors she had been surrounded by all day, it had been long past sundown. She had made her way to her sister's rooms and sat with her for a moment. When Emilia had been unable to sleep, she had laid down next to her, atop the blankets and curled into her frame, an arm over her waist and the other stroking her curls from her forehead as their mother had once done for Perse.

It was only when she was certain that Emilia was asleep that Persephone had detached herself from her sister's sleeping repose and headed to her own rooms.

There, she had undressed, donned a simple chiton without shape or tie and fallen into her bed without care or consideration for anything of her person besides removing the royal crown from her head and the jewels from her body.

Whilst she had feared she would not sleep at all, over forty-eight hours being awake - and such a forty-eight hours they were - took their toll and Persephone fell into a dreamless sleep quickly.

With her room facing the east, Persephone was awoken at a particular time every morning, and her body had adjusted well. She was always awake at the breaking of dawn, regardless of the day or night previous. Until then, however, she was a heavy sleeper, trapped by Hypnos until those first rays came over the horizon. Many a maid had failed to wake her easily whenever she was required to be awake before dawn.

It was in this manner that she was roughly woken.

Blinking awake, shocked and immediately frightened that the hand that shook her was far from the slim and feminine grip of Dianthe or Kleio - but a man's hand, large and dominating - Persephone panicked and scrambled amongst her sheets. It was pitch dark and she could not see he who disturbed her sleep; only a large and frightening shape that, for a moment, she mistook for another. Another figure whom had loomed over her not so long ago.

With a choked noise and a hastened retreat across her mattress, Persephone's eyes bulged as she tried to take in the limited light within the room. There were glimmers of it beneath the doors and a dark but interrupted shroud at the windows were the fires and stars of the outside world could be seen.

Quickly, the outline of a man she knew came into focus.

"Lord Iason!" She gasped in surprise as she pulled the covers closer to her, her gaze darting about to find the two of them alone. Panic set her chest alight. "What are you-?" It was only as her brain was then assuredly awake from sleep that she heard his demands and protestations - that they needed to leave!

As in on cue, the noise of clashing weapons and angry voices could be heard through the doors to Persephone's chambers and she felt her breath hitch in fright.

The palace of under attack?!

With a bold motion that allowed her no time to be concerned for the length of leg she revealed doing it, Persephone pulled back her sheets and quickly untangled herself to get upright. With tie or fastening, the chiton around her swamped her frame and threatened to trip her, but years of practice moving in long gowns had her hurrying to the other side of the room without falling face first.

Without hesitation, some kind of protocol that had been drilled into her since she was a child came back to her and Persephone carried out the steps perfectly, her fear causing her to verbalise them as she went.

"The crown..." She commented to herself and grabbed the heavy headpiece. She punched her hand through the crown and had it resting in the crook of her arm. She wasn't about to risk losing it or her life by having to walk sedately to keep it on her head.

As Iason took her arm to hurry her to the doors of her chambers, Persephone wrenched herself free - "Wait!" - before rushing into the main study of her quarters and heading for the desk.

Quickly, and with only a singular glance to the closed doorframe directly in front of her, Persephone opened the hatch in the desk, pulled a box from its cupboard and placed it on the desk. The box was latched with a thick chain that was secured to the stones in the floor, the links far too thick to break. Removing a small key on its chain from around her neck, Persephone opened the box, her hands attempting to fumble as she went for the lock, but her mind keeping them firm as she opened it smoothly.

Looking around herself for some means the carry the papers within, Persephone waved her hand at the shawl draped over one of the chairs beside Iason.

"Hand me that!" She called to him waving a hand in his directly, and shaking her head against his protestations. She would wrap up the pieces in the cloth. She just needed to hurry, for the noises of fighting were coming ever closer...

The sound of fear and her immediate reaction of terror hurt him, but there was no time for comfort or hesitation now, they had to get out before the attackers found them. Putting a finger to his lips to signal for silence as she asked her questions, he held out a hand to help her up and kept his eyes away as she slipped from the bed in disarray. This was as undone as he had ever seen her but now was not the time to focus on that. Iason turned to the door, hand now on the hilt of his sword as he heard the sounds of battle come closer. They had to get out and they had to go now

Whirling back to find her he gave an exasperated look as she seemed intent on fiddling with something that to his eyes was not important. He reached for her, deciding then that he would carry or drag her to safety if the was what it took. His grip on her arm was shrugged off and he hurried after her as she slipped away.

”There is no time for this, we have to get out before they find you.” His voice was a hiss in the darkness, his gaze darting back to the door before returning to her and he shook his head at the sight of her shuffling through papers. ”Persephone, now.” The order she tossed at him was the last straw.

Iason stepped away to grab the shawl, tossing it over to her quickly and shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously, trying to gauge from sounds outside when it would be too late for them to leave through the hallway. His hand still danced on the hilt of his sword before he reached for her waist, dragging her toward the door though without fully lifting her yet. ”Forgive me for this, we can’t wait any longer.” Keeping a tight grip on her, Iason tugged his cloak around her so she was mostly shielded from view and held close to his side, opening the door and glancing out at the hallway which was still empty though the torchlight down the way was growing closer with the sounds of death.

”Run.”