[Inner Circle]

Ariadne had been reluctant to leave Persephone behind at their home while they traveled to the capital, but her friend had assured her that she would be all right. Ariadne could not stay behind for she knew the palati better than anyone else in her party and was needed to retrieve some things inside. That was, if they were able to get inside. She had heard nothing good from the capital as of late, but that didn’t mean she might not be able to get inside the palati.

The young woman felt more at ease, knowing her twin and uncle were still away, and that her father would be accompanying her on this trip. She never doubted his ability to protect them, even if he might be worried about the current situation. However, it was worse than she feared, feeling some of the tension in the air as the three companions made their way throughout the city. Ari glanced at Chrysanthe, wondering what the other lady’s maid was thinking. She had never been to the capital as far as Ariadne knew, but she had moved about in similar spaces before. Ariadne wondered if Chrysanthe felt just as scared as she did deep down.

She didn’t get too far in her thoughts before she heard the voice of Lord Rafail of Marikas. His voice was not unfamiliar, but it certainly wasn’t much liked, not by her nor the crowd around them. Ariadne had always tried to think the best of most people, but Lord Rafail had long since soured her opinion of him when he had treated Persephone horribly. Nothing since that time a few years ago had done anything to change her opinion. She had not seen much kindness in him and his words now told her that that was still true. Ariadne couldn’t even claim to be shocked by what he was saying, but it made her angry. How dare he talk to the people like that? Most people seemed to feel the same, as more shouts filled the air. As much as Ariadne wanted to join them, she knew it would not be safe for them here much longer.

Before they could get too far, Hector spotted Demi in the crowd, moving their trio towards her and the two Antonis ladies she was with. Ariadne had no idea what had been happening between her and her father lately, but was grateful to see a familiar face in what was becoming a hostile environment. She reached out and squeezed Demi’s arm affectionately, not having much time for anything else before they started to move.

Suddenly, a crowd began to surge forward, the sounds of a stampede filling the air. Ariadne felt a panic rising in her chest as people began moving in their direction. She reached out for her father and Demi, attempting not to separate herself from them. In her panic, she sought to reach for the others as well, but Chrysanthe was ripped away, pulled by the crowd.


The true terror set into her bones when she saw two figures being hoisted by the crowd, passing over their heads in some unknown direction. As they moved closer to the three of them, Ariadne recognized them to be Danae of Stravos and Sofia of Marikas. The crowd was so close now, nearly suffocating, as they passed the two girls above Ariadne’s head. She felt her vicelike grip on her father and Demi, demonstrating her true terror. What were they to do?

Ariadne could hardly bring herself to speak, not trusting her voice not to betray her. “Papa, what do we do?!” They had to escape, but they couldn’t leave their friends behind. Their original mission was lost to her now, there would be no connecting with others or going to the palati. They simply needed to escape with their lives.

(Inner Circle)

As the crowds surged around them. Chrysanthe felt them push against them, jostling them tighter and then suddenly, it was no longer pushing them closer together, but surrounding her entirely. She was being jostled and pushed from all sides. The crowds drawing closer together, they were squishing her. She spun trying to find a way out. She could still spot Hector through the crowds, or at least she thought she could, but she was being dragged ever further away, and there was no way to fight her way back.

Then her foot caught on something and she was falling. It almost didn’t seem real, with everyone around her, the fall was slower than it otherwise might have been, but it also meant that suddenly things were pressing around her face and she struggled to breathe. Then almost as suddenly as it began, it was over. Well, that is, she could breathe again, but being below the press of bodies presented its own new set of challenges. It was a tangle of knees and legs and feet, all seeming to kick out against her body.

She took a hard knee to the nose as she went down. She was certain she heard something snap and suddenly it was hard to breathe out of her nose again. She barely had time to think of that as she found herself on the ground, feet all around her. She curled tight into a ball trying to avoid the steps and the kicks that just kept coming. One blow to her ribs, another to her head, causing her vision to black and everything to feel fuzzy.

How long that lasted, Chrysanthe couldn’t say, but her thoughts cleared again. At least enough for her to know that she needed to find a way out of here if she wanted to live. A moment later, there was a gap in the crowd, long enough that she could scramble to her feet, but then she had to keep moving. She fought all the aches and pains where she had been kicked as she tried to keep up with the pace of those moving around her. Her chiton was torn, her nose bleeding profusely and almost certainly broken. Her hair was a tangled mess. It was then that she saw yet another person moving along with her in this crowd who she knew. Well…that she had met before, Hector had not had time to introduce Hebe before they had all been pulled apart by the rioting crowds.

Chrysanthe instinctively grabbed for her hand. “I’b Chrysanthe...a friend of Hector's. We’re safer together.” Her voice sounded weird to her with the breathing through her nose obstructed. She could only hope that the woman might still recognize her.

Danae thought that she knew what it was like to be violated. To be grabbed, to be tossed about, to be treated more like a sack of meat than an actual human. That was what had happened to her when she had her run-in with the pirate that had ruined her life. However, that did not even begin to compare to what it was like when the angry mob swarmed through the open doorway and into the tight living quarters for Stravos servants. She thought she knew what it would feel like when their grubby hands latched onto her. She thought that she knew, but she did not.

This was worse.

Oh, this was so much worse.

The mob descended on the girls like a pack of hungry wolves, almost instantly tearing them apart. It didn’t matter that the two of them were gripping to the other one with such strength that it felt like their bones would snap beneath each other’s fear. Two noble girls who had spent their pampered lives behind the human meat shields of guards and older brothers did not have the physical aptitude to fend off a swarm of angry peasants. In an instant there were so many hands-on Danae, pulling at her arms, trying to drag her out of the relative safety of her own home. Those that couldn’t reach the stringy limbs that were covered in claw marks and the healing scar of a dog bite instead found a purpose in trying to rip Danae’s dress right off of her. She could feel them all pulling at the fabric, trying to find enough of the pale blue fabric to sell for scraps. There were also fingers in her hair, pulling the strands in all sorts of different directions, almost as if they were trying to jerk her around so much that they were going to snap her neck right then and there. Danae tried to dig her heels into the ground as they pulled her forward like some sort of stubborn cattle that didn’t want to go to market, but she had no muscles to boast off. All it took was a few angry peasants to get her out the door.

Not that Danae made it easy for them as she screamed bloody murder. “Get off of me! Let me go!” The words were almost incomprehensible in between the shrill shrieks that came from the girl’s mouth. It was an ear-splitting noise, something that she had perfected as a little girl to annoy her siblings. It seemed to work for a moment as a few of the hands dropped off of Danae to try and cover their own ears. As Danae was pulling against the mob so fiercely, this gave her a chance to step back a couple of paces as she tried to turn around. Her hope was that she could run somewhere deeper into the house. Where? She had no idea. The mob had her home surrounded and Danae was fairly certain that there wasn’t a single lock in this building that could keep out the angry populace, but anywhere was better than here.

However, she wasn’t going to get that chance as almost as soon as the grip on her had been loosened, it had tightened again due to new hands eager to seek vengeance against the girl that couldn’t do a damn thing about their plight. A part of Danae wished that she hadn’t been able to turn around in the first place as she had no more traction facing backward and if that wasn’t bad enough… turning around gave her a front-row view of the murder of the man who was Danae’s protector. One of the stronger peasants had found a large rock in the gardens and Danae could clearly see through the chaos and the confusion that peasant bringing the stone down upon the shaved head of Taureas. His normally white uniform was quickly staining red with the blood that was splattering all over the walls. The ceiling looked like someone had flicked a paint brush loaded with red pigment; almost as if it was the first stroke of a new mural. But it wasn’t. That was Taureas’s blood and that was Taureas there, dead on the ground. He wasn’t moving, but the peasant kept hitting and hitting and hitting. His head was crumpled and yet the peasant did not stop, taking out his rage on the guard whose only crime had been being a slave to the Stravos family. A man who had done nothing, but protect Danae. He had actually done more than that given all the secrets he kept for her, secrets that he now carried into his grave. An animalistic howl left Danae as she watched this happen, a new drive to escape the rabble that grasped her fueled her. “LEAVE HIM ALONE! GET OFF!” Taureas had been her protector ever since she was old enough to leave the Stravos manor on her own. He had been by her side for years, he was practically a second father to her in an odd sort of way.

And now he was dead.

Danae was surely about to join him too as the peasants pulled the noble girl who was thrashing about wildly out of the servants’ quarters and out into the open air. Her scream’s power was greatly diminished once the girl was outside, making it possible for more hands to descend on her. Danae had no idea where Sofia was, but she could only hope that she had not met the same fate as her bodyguard as more grubby hands pawed at her dress and every bit of flesh she had, almost as if they were going to tear it off of her to throw into a cooking pot. It didn’t matter how much Danae squirmed, how many hands she shook off of her. There was always more to replace them. Her dress was in tatters. Small chunks of her hair, her precious hair that had taken her so long to reclaim, had been pulled out. This crowd was going to tear her limb from limb. Danae was certain that Taureas was not going to traverse the Styx alone and she openly wept at the thought of this was how she was going to die. Good gods, this couldn’t really be it, could it? After everything she had already gone through, this was what did her in?

Unable to form any words, just terrible shrieks, Danae silently prayed to @hades that at the very least he would have the mercy to allow her and Taureas passage over the Styx without having the coins to pay the fee. After all, not only was this crowd not going to take care to leave the necessary gold pieces in their eyes, but Danae wasn’t certain that they were going to be enough of her left to do that. It didn’t seem like there was going to be with how eager this crowd was to get their fill of blood. However, it seemed to be that there was a bit of reprieve for the noble girls, though it was not one that was welcomed. Not by a long shot.

Danae didn’t know who had started the chant, demanding that the girls be turned into a sacrifice, but that didn’t matter when the call for her blood was ringing in her ears. It was practically deafening and her own trick to get people to leave her alone was turned against her as the sheer shock of the call had her pause in her struggling just long enough for the stronger peasants haul her up above their heads in order to use the large crowd to move them to the palati. Looking wildly back and forth, searching for some way out as she uselessly punched and kicked those lifting her up, she could see Sofia also struggling against the crowd that was now so intent on stringing them up on the gates for Elias to see. Danae had no words to convey how dreadfully sorry she was for getting Sofia into this mess. If she hadn’t invited the Marikas girl over, she wouldn’t be in this situation that was hopelessly inescapable. The girls were not strong enough to fight back. They were not going to escape this on their own.

They were going to need some sort of help and fast.

Though, that was unlikely to come as the crowd continued their horrible chant, calling for the girl's death. Danae didn’t know that they were passing over the heads of some potential rescuers as she was fairly certain that there was no one in this crowd that was going to take pity on the two girls who were just pawns in their big brother’s games. For all Danae knew, there was no one who would even think about helping her. For all she knew, the only person who could save her from being murdered outside the palati gates was herself and she was not strong enough to accomplish that. She was going to die. There was no other way that this was going to end.

But that didn’t stop Danae from at least trying to do something. After all, she had never been the sort of girl to sit quietly and take things as they were -- especially as others thought that they could decide her fate. That was why she continued to scream, begging for help that she didn’t know if anyone would listen to now that Taureas, the one man who was supposed to protect her at all costs, was now dead. “Help us! Please! Someone! Don’t let them kill us!!!”

Unlike Lesley, Emilia shifted uncomfortably, the growing angry noises and frustrated shouts of the unhappy people of Athenia grating at her. While it didn't show on her face (at least not very obviously, but someone who knew her would be able to identify it), Labros padded anxiously next to her, picking up every emotion his mistress felt, whining the whole time.

The young princess had honestly expected Lesley to do... something, anything that could help her feel better, make this whole situation better. Perhaps it was a tall order, but honestly Lesley had been Emilia's only anchor the tumultuous last few months that somehow along the way, he had seemed almost superhero-like, capable of doing anything.

But perhaps she would be mistaken today?

Her bodyguard's words while not said in a gruff, angry tone, neverthless brought a lump to her throat, as she pondered the depth behind his words, her eyes never once leaving the rioting masses outside of her window. Her grip tightened on the sill... yet she could have no reply for Lesley. What did she say that could make... any of this any better? Or help the situation at all?

"What would you do if you were in my shoes, Lesley?" she asked again, a soft voice that wavered in the last few syllabus, showing the tenuous control that Emilia had over her emotions slowly losing its grip. "As someone whose never had the training to lead a kingdom, as someone who never even wanted-" her voice cracked, the lump in her throat threathening to overflow that Emilia paused the growing crescendo of her words, to finish off in the softest of whispers.

"Who never wanted any of this."

It was precisely what he had been afraid of occurring, and as Cicero listened to the noise of the gathered commonfolk in the street his anger toward the boy in the palati hardened and grew into something more solid. Whatever Elias thought his end game was, however, he thought he was winning by allowing things to deteriorate as they had; it had to stop.

The master informer was not a man given to the sway of emotion. He went about his business as precisely that, business. A cool head upon his shoulders, a disinterest in the speculating the circumstances, he was built of facts and reason and consequence. But as his mind processed how he was going to keep his family safe from this madness, there was a very personal level of investment, and some worry broke through his usual calm. Barely enough to be noticeable, it was still there in the tension that drew tight around his eyes, the thinned lips and the way in which he moved, tinged with restless energy.

He trusted Elysia and Iris to do as he had instructed and had moved to collect some folded parchment and a coin purse from a small chest upon a shelf when the rock came sailing through the shuttered windows, knocking over a vase and sending glass shattering like a fractured gem across the stone floor.

‘Come out and face us! Or we’ll burn you out!’

His hands hurried to press the parchment inside his chiton where it would be safe and then weighed the coin purse in his hands consideringly. For now, it was tucked away. They had less time than he had hoped, and Elysia’s reappearance without having changed didn’t surprise him in the least. He flattened himself back against the wall, away from the window and jerked his head toward the kitchen.

“Go,” he said, unnecessarily as she had already snatched up Rastus and was hurrying toward the back of the house. Cicero motioned for Iris to follow, leaving no room for dissent. He was trying to decide if there was anything that he needed to retrieve from his study. The lick of torchlight upon the walls left little doubt as to what would become of their home, and he had hoped to have longer. But even he could not predict the behaviour of an entire city, and something had set a spark to the dry kindling of discontent in the city this day.

There was a sharp whistle from the back of the house, a sign from Cicero’s man, and he glanced uneasily up the stairway. His most important things already existed in multiple locations, and after all, the spymasters most precious asset was his mind, but it was a terrible waste to think of what could be lost to a fire. @athena forgive him for not having foreseen this.

He hurried through the house, and once he reached the kitchen, shouted for the servants to come and help drag the heavy table in front of the door. It might buy them the extra minutes they needed to get away.

Hebe gazed up at the kidnapper warily, but he was the least of her concerns. Agony tore through her scalp as some tattered old hag grabbed both Antonis girls by the hair. “Let me go, moron!” Her shout was drowned out by the ancient crone’s cry. Fresh meat? Did they plan to eat the young nobles? There was no time to consider that notion as the two sisters were pulled into the crowd, where they were kicked and punched repeatedly by the angry mob, who apparently intended to tenderize their meat before consuming it.

That was the last humorous thought she had. Excruciating pain flooded through her body and mind as she was pummeled by fists and feet. Hebe covered her face to protect it. A moment later, she felt like she was being choked by her own necklace and she struggled for breath until it finally broke against her neck. Fingers dug into her arms to remove her bracelets and she felt her rings sliding off her hands. And then they went for her chiton, pulling off the fibulae and ripping the cloth from her body as others continued to beat her now bare flesh.

Suddenly somebody threw her to the ground and landed on top of her. From the scent of her perfume, she knew it was Marietta. Her sister was taking the blows meant for her, trying to keep her safe. But there was no safety here, and if they beat Marietta to death, they would push her body aside and kill Hebe too. She understood that her sister wanted to protect her, but how would she be able to live with herself if Marietta died for her? Hebe winced every time she felt her sister twitch. I can’t let her sacrifice her life for mine. I need to get up so we can both escape.

She didn’t notice that the fall had pinned her arms above her until some moron started pulling at her hands. Another … or two … grabbed her feet and pulled in the opposite direction. At first she liked the stretch but after only a moment, her entire body began to ache. All of Marietta’s bravery was for nothing. The peasants were going to tear her in two! The pain became nearly unbearable and she felt an agonizing pop in her left arm. Her shoulder had been dislocated, though she had no idea what that even meant. Multicolored dots flashed in front of her eyes and darkness encroached on the edge of her vision.. I can’t pass out. We’ll both die if I faint!

Marietta twisted on top of her and Hebe was finally able to kick the grips on her feet away. She freed her right arm, but her left one didn’t work anymore. Nothing happened when she tried to move it but did feel the pain shoot through it. Rolling out from under her sister, Hebe pulled her left hand away with her right one. Grabbing a dirty piece of fabric she found lying on the ground, she wrapped it around herself as best as she could. She maneuvered herself into a standing position but before she could help Marietta, her sister pushed her into a gap in the crowd and then curled into a ball while the peasants kept hitting her.

I have to save her! Holding her limp arm close to her body with her good hand, she stumbled along with the mob. Blood ran down Hebe’s face and she could see bruises forming on her skin. Her hair felt all matted and she was wrapped in a filthy cloth. She no longer looked like a noble anymore and none of the commoners noticed her. Every moment that passed put Marietta in more danger. She needed to get back to her sister and get her to safety.

Someone grabbed her hand and she shrieked as her injured arm fell by her side. Hebe turned around and prepared to kick her captor in the shins, but it was one of the women who had been with the kidnapper and she looked like she’d already been kicked more than enough times already. The woman rasped out her name and claimed they would be safer together.

“We need to save my sister!” Panic filled her young voice. “They’re killing her!”