No doubt there had been screams from whoever of the crowd had remained, but it took a few moments before Chris could be sure she was hearing things properly again. Beneath her, the assassin had already gone still, eyes sightless and chest unmoving. She left her dagger buried in the body, rolled off, and sat up.

Salome was at her side immediately, face grim and eyes dark with widened pupils. "Lady Chris! Are you all right?"

"See to Lilly," she croaked, waving him off. "I'm fine." The hand she'd waved was crimson, she noted absently, and turned to look at Lilly.

Her friend was clutching her shoulder and very pale. Salome knelt by the woman's side and gently lifted her hand from the injured shoulder to study the wound.

Ignoring him, Lilly's blue eyes met her own, wide and staring.

"He's dead," Chris said. It came out more harshly than intended.

"Good," Lilly snarled. She inhaled, her lower lip trembling, then continued in a vicious, if shaky, voice, "He ruined my dress."

A sudden blast of ice through her veins told Chris the anti-magic field had lifted; True Water was reasserting itself. Its forceful indignance at being silenced by a lesser rune's spell made her sway fractionally before she pulled herself together. Lilly would need healing, and the assassin might have poisoned his blade.

She took a deep breath, meaning to compose herself to reach for the Rune's magic, but almost immediately another blue glow surrounded herself and Lilly. The faintest flicker of an afterimage around his right hand told Chris her strategist had used his own water rune.

"I'm not hurt," she told him, a reassurance rather than a complaint, and glanced around. "We need to set up a perimeter, he might have allies -"

"I gave the orders a moment ago," Salome said. "While you were occupied with the assassin."

Chris grimaced. "Battle blinders. My apologies."

"None needed." He took one more look at Lilly's injuries, nodded in satisfaction, and stood. A moment later he offered her a hand up; Lilly swatted it away and rose to her feet, unsteady but under her own effort. Salome stepped away from her, towards his captain.

Chris slowly climbed to her own feet, her mind running through the orders she would need to give, to gather information, to secure the hall in case the assassin had not been alone. "Make sure the guards are organized, then have Percival and Leo help you with questioning the crowd," she said, straightening her back. Percival was good with drawing people out. Leo less so, but the bigger man was intimidating, which they'd need to keep the impatient crowd in check. She raised her voice, pitching it to carry. "No one leaves here until they've been questioned. Percival, Leo, you're with Salome. Borus, pick five men and guard Lilly - we're not moving from this spot until I know the area is secure. And someone find me a sword!"

Borus would need some time to get Lilly's guard together, but Percival and Leo were already shouldering their way through the crowd. Salome turned to them and began issuing his own orders.

Confident that her second-in-command would quickly take crowd control in hand, Chris went to stand by Lilly. "We'll go home as soon as I'm certain we can do so safely," she said quietly to her friend, looking down at her gloves. The left had a few spots of blood, but the right was soaked stiff. She grimaced, but she didn't dare remove them in public - not with True Water branded so clearly on her hand.

"Good. I'm filthy. I want a bath," Lilly complained, looking down at her own stained dress and gloves."Besides, your Zexen merchantfolk lack backbone. I'm weary of them. In Tinto we wouldn't let a little thing like a dead assassin spoil a party like this." Her disdainful voice was pitched just a hair too high, her words came just slightly too fast. and Chris put her cleaner left hand on her friend's arm and gave her a quick squeeze.

Leo approached them, long enough to hand over the ceremonial sword he'd worn. "Knew there was a reason I brought this thing," he mumbled, offering the sword, sheath, and belt in both hands. "Just had the blade sharpened."

"Thank you." She let Lilly help her buckle it on, more to give her friend something to do than for need of assistance. The familiar weight at her hip was reassuring.

Borus arrived just as Leo departed. He was trailed by three men in the purple brocade of on-duty guards and two more in dress uniform, whom he'd apparently already given orders to, because they took up positions encircling the two women without so much as a gesture from Borus.

The knight himself addressed both women with a bow. "Lady Chris! Lady Lilly." His gaze lingered on Chris's face a moment, his expression pained. Then he steeled it. "We're at your service. I've called for a carriage."

Chris nodded. "Thank you. Salome will tell us when it's safe to depart."

Even as she said it, she felt impatient. She wasn't much use as a guard wearing a gown, even if she was properly armed now, and the idea of useless inactivity galled her. Her eyes traveled across the floor.

"I'm going to search the body," she told the others.

Lilly grimaced, then rounded on Borus. "If we're waiting on your strategist's judgment, we'll be here all night. Get me a chair!"

Chris knelt down beside the still form of the would-be assassin, positioning herself so that Borus's guards were at her back. She brushed her skirts back so she wouldn't trip if she needed to stand suddenly, and placed Leo's sword by her side so she wouldn't have to take the time to draw it. Not that she really needed to worry about that - this wasn't the Grasslands, where Nash had taught her a few spy's tricks for searching bodies and where they were at constant risk of attack. Funny how she was using those skills here, in civilization, so shortly after he'd shown up...

She shook off the thought. Using her cleaner left hand, she went through the outer pockets of his coat. There was an Escape Scroll in one of them, along with some more mundane items - a few potch-pieces of different denominations, a candle end, and a handkerchief. She handled the last with care despite her glove - it could've been soaked in a sleeping agent or poison - and then unbuttoned his coat.

Footfalls approached, and she looked up sharply, hand going to the hilt of the sword. She relaxed when she saw the familiar cheerful expression of her squire.

"Anything I can do to help, Lady Chris?" Louis asked, then looked at the body, his lips curling in disgust. "Er, I'll just stand guard for you…"

Chris thanked him, returning her attention to the body. The assassin had worn a fine linen shirt over the armor she'd struck earlier, the white cloth soaked crimson near his neck. The shirt had no front pockets of its own, and neither did the trousers, but there were inner pockets of the coat to go through. One was completely empty, but the other contained two papers - an invitation to the ball, and a handwritten list.

Names, Chris saw, reading over the list as she held the paper carefully by the corners. Zexen- or Tinto-style names, not Grasslander. A few looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place them.

"Bring this to Salome," she ordered her squire. "Tell him it was on the assassin's body."

Louis took the list. "Lord Heinze? He's a Free Merchants supporter. So's Lady Dunst, at least according to my brothers. And she was in a bad mood when I announced her. I'll tell Lord Salome right away." He bowed and took off at a trot.

Chris continued her search, patting the assassin's sides, arms, and legs for anything else concealed beneath his clothes and running her hands along the seams for secret pockets. She found a knife up one sleeve - a match for the one he'd used on Lilly - and an empty sheath in the other, but nothing else. Turning him over and repeating the process on his back was similarly fruitless.

In the background, she heard a familiar, indignant voice issuing demands - "I asked for a chair! And sherry, for my shattered nerves! Honestly, none of you ill-bred louts seem to know how to treat a lady who's been through a traumatic experience. It would serve you all right if I fainted right here on the spot!"

Chris glanced up to see a perfectly steady-on-her-feet Lilly shaking a finger at one of her hapless guards. Borus intervened, looking distinctly irritated as he tried to reason with her. She smiled despite her unpleasant task - Lilly was clearly feeling better.

There was really nothing much left besides the shoes - ordinary dancing slippers, containing ordinary feet - and gloves. She peeled these off and then inspected the bared hands.

"Any runes on our assassin?" Salome asked as he approached. He came to stand by her side.

"A haziness rune and this." Chris showed him the assassin's other hand, and the blue droplet-and-ring mark on its palm. "I suppose the Silent Lake spell could've been his." She sat back on her heels and took a final look at the body before her. Between the wreck of his neck, her knife still hilt-deep, and the disarray of his clothes, it wasn't a pretty sight, and despite her care, she'd left spots of blood all along the hem and sides of his jacket. Her left glove, once relatively clean, was now almost as filthy as its mate.

Exhaling between her teeth in a sigh of distaste, she moved to stand. Salome offered her a hand up; she took it and grimaced in apology when she saw her bloody glove had dirtied his own. He gave an open-handed shrug in return, and stripped off both his gloves, tucking them in his pocket.

Her face itched. When she reached up automatically to rub it, she felt something smear unpleasantly on her skin.

"There's blood on your face. Here." Her strategist had pulled out a clean handkerchief, which he offered her.

Chris smiled crookedly and held up both filthy hands in reply. "It will have to wait, I think."

He shook his head. "Spit," he commanded, holding up the handkerchief in front of her face.

She obeyed, then closed her eyes and stood patiently as her second-in-command gently dabbed, and then more briskly scrubbed, her cheek, forehead and beside her eye. When the pressure of fabric against her face withdrew, she opened her eyes. Salome had pulled his hand back, but his eyes were still on her face, his mouth relaxed into a small, reflective frown.

"All done?" she asked him, meeting his gaze. He blinked.

"It will have to do," he told her, pocketing the dirtied square of linen. His tone was businesslike. "The carriage should be ready shortly. I presume you'll want to take Lilly home yourself?"

She nodded; even if Lilly weren't her friend, it was her duty to see to her guest's well-being personally. "I'll take Borus and his men as guards. Can you arrange for another shift for later tonight?"

"How many?"

Chris thought, considering the layout of the Lightfellow residence. It was eerily familiar, having to consider the place from a tactical perspective - where she'd need guards posted, or want eyes watching the street.. Her right hand felt cold and clammy in its filthy glove; when she glanced down, she thought she saw the faintest flicker of blue. Ah. It made sense: this would not be the first time a Captain Lightfellow had to watch for assassins.

"Lady Chris?"

She shook herself. "Five should do."

"Ah, yes. Of course." His expression flickered, and she wondered if he'd made the same belated connection she had. "I'll remain here to oversee the investigation, then."

"Agreed. Report to me when it's complete." She thought a moment, then added. "In the morning will be fine, unless it's urgent."

Salome inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"Lady Chris! Lady Lilly! Your chariot awaits." Louis's cheerful voice broke in as he strode up.

Chris glanced over at Lilly, who was drumming her fingers on the arm of a chair - the only one of her demands fulfilled, it seemed, since her hands were empty of sherry glasses.

"About time!" Lilly said, rising stiffly to her feet.

The mood in the carriage during the ride was subdued. Borus, officially charged with Lilly Pendragon's guard, insisted on taking a less obvious route, and Chris agreed, although it added nerve-wracking minutes to their travel. They were further slowed by the need of their escort, four knights on foot, to keep apace. Every unexpected noise over the clatter of the carriage, or change in pitch of the reverberations of wheels on cobblestones, made everyone tense or shift warily in their seats. Lilly's mouth was a thin line, and Chris felt a similarly grim expression on her own face.

Lilly sat wedged awkwardly between Chris and Louis, who had clung like a limpet to their party since he'd brought them word the carriage was ready. Chris hadn't bothered to send him away; it was good to have someone shielding Lilly from both sides during the ride. Borus sat opposite, jaw set as he leaned forward, watchful and wary.

"I don't suppose any of you could be bothered to tell me who the hell these Free Merchants are and why they'd want to kill me?" Lilly's voice broke the group's silence.

"A Zexen group agitating for free trade," Chris said, peering out the window. It was hard to see much; the streets were barely illuminated by the rows of greenish gas-lamps. "They want no tariffs and fewer restrictions on opening new businesses. Which doesn't explain why they'd choose you as their hostage, I realize."

"No, it doesn't," Lilly agreed, her voice tight.

"The assassin really seemed to hate women," Louis said slowly. "Maybe that was it?"

Borus shook his head. "The man was a hothead and a fool, not an assassin. A crowded ballroom is just asking for trouble. A real assassin would've killed his target in the cloakroom, or on the way to the ball." He seemed to realize belatedly that the assassin's target was sitting across from him in a bloodstained gown, and winced. "I"m sorry, Lady Lilly, I spoke without thinking."

"Pff, don't be, you're absolutely right," Lilly said, waving her hand and almost smacking Chris in the face in the close confines of the carriage. "I was in the war too, you know! This is hardly the first time someone's tried to kill me. Hmmph, the idea to take a hostage probably struck him after one too many glasses of wine and I was the first dainty young thing he saw."

Borus shook his head, whether dismissing Lilly's suggestion that it was an impulse decision or her description of herself as dainty. If it was the former, Chris had to agree; the mail shirt beneath his finery was proof enough of advance planning, and there were the runes and the escape scroll besides. So why Lilly as the hostage?

"Almost any other lady there would have been a safer choice. Safer for him, I mean," she said slowly. "But he knew you were from Tinto."

"I announced that when you came in," Louis reminded them. "And you two came in together. So he knew you'd want to protect her and would want to negotiate, Lady Chris."

Chris shook her head, then remembered that he couldn't see it. "I couldn't actually meet any of his demands, Captain of the Knights or not. Only the Council can make decisions about trade and taxes."

"But you said you had authority-" Lilly began, sounding surprised.

"I was buying time, mostly," Chris explained. "If necessary I suppose I would've taken his demands to the Council, I suppose, but mostly I was hoping for an opening for one of us to act, or for his Silent Lake spell to expire. Unless he planned to use the escape scroll and flee with you as his hostage before then..." No, that didn't seem quite right, either.

"I'm not here as an ambassador. While certainly my father would be furious if anything happened to me on Zexen soil… would your Council actually grant that good-for-nothing's requests? I can't remember what they were exactly, but they were probably pretty extreme."

"They're merchants. It depends on how much it would hurt their wallets," Borus replied tersely. "I know some have their trade routes by sea or overland elsewhere, so Tinto closing its borders to Zexen trade and caravans wouldn't hurt them personally. Might even drive prices up on the goods they sell."

"What I don't understand is where you got the second knife, Lady Chris," Louis said suddenly. "Did you take it off the assassin?"

Awkward silence followed his question. Lilly covered her mouth with a hand, probably to hide a smile. Borus shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Ah, that is…"

"I had it down the front of my dress," Chris said as calmly as she could, glad the dim light hid her face. It was a wonder that her voice didn't come out strangled. "Inside my stays. I had some difficulty drawing it," she added with frustration.

"Well, that's one way to put it," Lilly muttered.

"I'm sorry," Chris told her. "If I'd been able to get it out sooner…"

Louis's face was hidden from her, but from his tone she could imagine his wide-eyed expression. "Oh." He paused, then continued in innocent tones. "Do you normally wear a knife down the front of your dress like that, Lady Chris? Or shirt?"

"Louis!" Borus was outraged. "You- you - how dare you ask a question like that!"

"I certainly will be next time I attend a ball," Chris told her squire dryly. "If only to have an answer to the vulgar questions of busybodies." Her stern look was rather lost in the darkness, and Louis just laughed in reply.

The carriage rolled to a bumpy, swaying halt. They'd arrived.

Getting Lilly from the carriage to the house was a painstaking process. Borus had to verify the grounds were secure, then speak with Chris's butler, then be admitted to the residence and verify that was secure; then Lilly needed to have her person surrounded as closely as possible while moving as quickly as possible in case of a sniper. It was a wonder they made it inside with no one tripping in the darkness on the uneven ground.

Even with Borus's advance warning, her servants were shocked at the sight of the two women in bloody ballgowns. The normally imperturbable Andrew gasped audibly, while Molly's hands went to her mouth and she stared, wide-eyed and shaking.

"Lilly's been healed and I'm unhurt," Chris assured them both, a little taken aback by the strength of their reactions. But then again, the staff at Brass Castle were all used to seeing the knights return bloodied and worse from the battlefield; Molly and Andrew weren't. "None of the blood's mine. See to Lilly first."

"Y-you'll be wanting a bath, milady." Molly ventured, stepping forward towards Lilly. "I began drawing it up as soon as I heard the carriage arrive, although I never guessed-"

"Just lead the way," Lilly told her wearily.

They retreated upstairs swiftly. Chris stayed behind, giving Andrew instructions on how to handle deliveries - the morning milk would have to be turned away until they had more information, and any letters or parcels would need to be handled with care in case of poison - and then discussing the guards' positions and shifts with Borus. It wasn't until she'd finished both her conferences that she realized Louis was still there, standing patiently at parade rest.

"You should really go home," Chris told her squire. The alertness she'd maintained since the assassin first took Lilly hostage had vanished in the familiar surroundings of her home, leaving her tired and not inclined to mince words. "Your parents will be worried and we've got enough guards."

Louis shook his head. "My place is by your side, milady," he insisted. "And you and Lord Borus forgot a post."

She frowned at her squire.

"Er." He fidgeted under her gaze. "There's none outside Lady Lilly's door. What if an assassin makes it into the house past the other guards? There should be a last line of defense!"

Chris sighed and shook her head in weary disbelief. "If you really want to stand on guard for the next four hours, so be it."

"Thank you, Lady Chris!"

He looked entirely too happy for someone who was going to be spending half the night on his feet, Chris thought, trudging up the stairs ahead of him. She pointed out Lilly's room to him before entering her own.

It was a great relief to finally remove her gloves, which had gone cold and stiff. She was tempted to chuck them in the fireplace - really, they were ruined - but the fire was down to coals and Molly would probably scold her. She draped them over the fireplace screen instead.

The pitcher at her washstand was full of water and warm to the touch. She filled the basin and submerged her red-laced hands in the warm water, which soon swirled with diffusing, scarlet-brown threads. It reminded her of the blood slowly seeping through the assassin's shirt; swallowing thickly, she shoved away the comparison.

Her hands were much cleaner after she scrubbed them with a cloth and dried them, although her fingernails were still ringed with dark stains. By the time she'd washed her face and neck, scrubbing away blood and cosmetics with another rare sliver of rose soap, the water was pinkish and murky.

There was a knock at the door; Chris opened it to see Molly with another pitcher of water and a bucket.

Her maid was silent as she emptied the wash-basin into the bucket and placed the fresh pitcher on the stand. Then she turned to Chris, wringing her hands.

"Oh, milady." With just the four syllables somehow Molly managed to convey dismay, sympathy, and horror. "It must have been awful." Heedless of propriety and the filthy state of Chris's dress, she put her arms around her mistress.

Chris took a deep breath and wound up with a lungful of the sweet, cloying smells of lemon and laundry soap. It seemed to reach past her nostrils down to her gut.

Molly was solid against her chest, too solid. Chris remembered (or imagined) the assassin's last raspy gasp for air, the splash of hot blood against the bare skin of her face. Moments like these sometimes came to her after a battle, where her body rebelled against what her mind recalled with too-sharp clarity. They would pass, but she needed air, space, a moment to master herself. Chris tried to pull out of Molly's embrace.

Unaware of or mistaking her mistress's distress, Molly held fast. "Oh, milady, when I saw you covered in blood I feared - "

Her stomach turned. Chris shoved her maid away and made a break for her wash basin. She reached it, retched once without bringing anything up besides a burn in the back of her throat. Clamping her jaw shut, she braced herself against the wooden washstand and breathed through her teeth, slowly, until the feeling subsided.

Once she was sure the nausea was past, she rinsed her mouth, spat, and then turned around. Molly was still on the floor, staring at her.

Chris knelt down beside the woman, who flinched. "I'm sorry," she said, as gently as she could. "I forgot myself. Did I hurt you?"

Molly shook her head wordlessly and, still looking dazed, accepted Chris's hand to help her to her feet. Her legs almost immediately buckled; Chris caught her just in time.

"Milady, forgive me," Molly protested weakly.

Chris shook her head, holding the woman up for a moment as she looked around, awkwardly, for a place for her to sit. She wound up hooking a foot around the leg of a chair to drag it closer.

"Here. Catch your breath." Chris eased the older woman into the chair, then crouched down by her side. "Where does it hurt?"

Molly drew her knees aside and away. "I'm fine, milady. I stumbled. That's all. Please don't trouble yourself over me."

Chris had feigned being unhurt out of pride enough times to recognize when someone else was doing the same, and to sympathize. "Take a moment to catch your breath, then."

She removed Leo's sword and her jewelry herself, taking her time. The earrings she put away, but there were browning stains on the ribbon band of the choker. She shoved away a pang of regret; it was too late to worry whether she'd ruined it or not.

"I'll see what I can do about that, and the dress, milady." Molly had risen. "But you'll be wanting your hair down first."

"Thank you." Chris took a seat at the dressing table, facing the mirror.

Molly worked in silence as she unpinned Chris's hair. Chris winced once at almost-sore feeling along her scalp as her hair came down from the unfamiliar arrangement, and in the mirror she saw Molly's flinch; afterward that Chris kept herself as still as possible.

"Help me out of my dress, please," she said when the last pins were removed and her hair hung loose and tangled, itchy against the back of her neck and the bare parts of her shoulders. Molly complied without speaking, working her way down the row of buttons along the back of the dress. She worked swiftly, but even without seeing her Chris could feel her fumble once or twice. Unlacing her stays took so long that Chris was unsurprised at the tremor in the older woman's hands as she hung up the garment to air.

Seeing Molly's grip on the hairbrush go white-knuckled as the older woman came closer decided her. "Thank you, Molly. That will be all," she said. "I think I want to be alone now."

"Very well, milady." Molly's voice was too polite, her movements too careful as she placed the brush back on the dressing table. Without a word, she took the choker and much-worse-for-wear dress and left the room, her steps slow until the last one, just barely visible as the door closed behind her.

There was nothing she could do about Molly right now, Chris thought, and took up the hairbrush with a sigh. She felt almost too drained to bother brushing her hair out before braiding it for bed, but she'd regret it in the morning, and Molly would scold-

She tugged the brush roughly through a tangle of hair, then again, using her free hand to guide the brush. Her hair was waxy and still fragrant from the pomade, and the waft of nostalgic scent reminded of her mother. This had been her parents' room at one point, and Molly had been her mother's maid before she was Chris's, so almost certainly Anna had stood wearily here after a ball, while Molly helped take down her hair and climb out of her finery. Although I'm sure she never had to wash blood off her afterwards, Chris thought as she tied off her braid. That thought didn't bother her much, but the one that followed did. Or hurt Molly.

Really, she should not be so tired; had the ball not been interrupted she'd have been up for another few hours at least. And so many of her knights were on duty now, guarding her home or conducting the investigation, and would be awake long into the night.

After trading her shift for a nightdress, she washed her hands and face once again using the new pitch of water. It was hard not to feel guilty, taking rest when others were working on her behalf. Exhausting yourself only to assuage your conscience is worse than pointless, she scolded herself, Or do you want to collapse tomorrow like you did that time on the way to see the Council? And she'd need her mind clear and sharp in the morning to sort through what Salome, Percival, and Leo had learned, to make connections they might have overlooked in their own weariness.

Why had the assassin targeted Lilly, why-

Stop that,she thought firmly, climbing beneath the covers. The bed groaned quietly as she settled in. There will be time enough for that in the morning. It's time to sleep now.

Sleep did not come easily. Chris had never realized how noisy her home could be until that night. The walls creaked as the old house settled on its foundation, and shutters rattled in the occasional whistling gust of wind. The echo of footfalls in the hallway - a familiar enough sound at Brass Castle - jolted her from near-sleep more than once, until her racing mind realized it was just Borus making the rounds.

Lilly's room shared a wall with her own. At the first sounds from her friend's quarters, Chris came awake. Moments later, she was out of bed, sword in hand, and rushing out the door.

Louis, at his post outside Lilly's room, seemed surprised to see her. Chris gaped at his apparent irresponsibility, but before she said anything, her mind caught up to processing what her ears were hearing, and the young man's awkward posture.

Chris cleared her throat as they both heard another, muffled, sob.

"I'll bring her a hot drink and talk to her," she told him, and her squire's expression cleared in relief.

She returned a few minutes later, this time with a dressing gown on and without her sword, carrying a tray with two cups and a steaming pot of cocoa. Louis gave it a longing glance.

"You're relieved of this post, squire," she told him formally, suppressing an urge to smile. Louis had a sweet tooth; he also had a habit of listening at doors. She might as well use one to solve the problem of the other. "Bring hot drinks to the other sentries, and spell anyone who needs to use the privy. Knock on the door to let me know when you return."

She watched him disappear down the stairs before rapping softly on the door. "Lilly? Are you awake?"

The sobs quieted, replaced by the creak of mattress and then of floorboards. A moment later the door opened onto Lilly's face, made paler by the dim light.

"I couldn't sleep," Chris said quietly, and lifted the tray. "I thought you might be in a similar position."

"I'm not surprised. Your beds aren't very comfortable," Lilly groused with half-hearted bravado, opening the door further to admit her. "Your servants need to take more care when they turn out the beds."

Chris placed the tray on the dressing table, lit the lamp there, and proceeded to pour out cocoa for both of them. Lilly sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped tight in her lap. When she lifted them to take her cup from Chris, they trembled.

Wordlessly, Chris sank into the only other seat in the room, a chair beside the dressing table, and waited.

"You probably think I'm a coward," Lilly said at last, staring down into the teacup she held in both hands. "Sobbing to myself like a...a child."

"Someone tried to kill you today," Chris told her plainly. "That's a good reason to be upset."

"Yes, but it's not like it's the first time that's happened," Lilly said glumly. "But this time I froze! I didn't even go for my knife, didn't even remember I had it!" She exhaled, then added softly, "Chris, I was just so afraid."

"Fear is a good thing. It means you're paying attention." The words came out without a thought; only a moment later did Chris realize that they sounded patronizing. "At least, that's what my knight-master always told me."

"You weren't afraid," Lilly said, challengingly. Accusingly. "You were cool as anything, When you tried to negotiate with him. When he called you... and when you stabbed him. And after, searching the body." She shuddered – a real one, not the kind she affected when she was complaining. "You know, back during the war, I always hated it when you or Hugo or Geddoe searched corpses."

Lilly wouldn't want to hear that keeping a cool head was part of a knight's training, fear held at bay by discipline and habit - she'd just see it as a reminder of what she lacked. The latter, though, Chris could address. "I'm sorry. I'd have left it to someone else if I knew it bothered you."

"I don't want to be coddled," Lilly snapped. "I already know that compared to you I'm nothing more than a little girl playing warrior with my sword."

Chris couldn't miss the echo of her own, earlier sentiment, although that afternoon's preparation for the ball seemed like it had happened months ago. She set down her cocoa and crossed to her friend's side. She took Lilly's right hand in her own and turned it palm up so the calluses were clear, or would be if the light were better. "Look at your hands. You are definitely a swordswoman."

Lilly balled her hand into a fist, pulling it away. "I got cut. You didn't take a scratch."

Chris exhaled. "I was lucky. Very lucky. Taking someone to the ground in a knife fight was not the smartest thing I could've done. And the assassin had the knife on you. What's the first rule of combat with edged weapons?" She hoped this much was universal.

"Expect to get cut," Lilly recited automatically. "Oh." She sat up straighter.

"With his knife at your neck, I all I could do was keep him talking and hope you'd take any opening he gave you." Chris turned to look at Lilly. "Which you did."

"I guess I did. But... you're still the one who killed him. I should have-"

"Well, I was hardly going to let him go after you once you were away." Chris rolled her eyes. "Unless next time you want me to leave all the glory for you?"

"No thank you!" Lilly said hastily.

"It's fine to analyze a battle afterwards and learn from it. But it's not good to I-should-have yourself to death." Chris stared into the far corner of the room, as if studying the outlines of furniture in the lamp's small light. "And as for keeping a cool head, well, that only carries so far. I nearly threw up once we got home."

"Oh."

They sat in silence a while longer. There was a soft rap at the door. They both looked up, but neither of them flinched - progress, Chris thought, before saying aloud, "That will be Louis returning to his post. We should both try to get some sleep."

"Definitely. I'm all worn out from dancing, you know." Lilly drained her cup. "I do trust your servants know better than to wake us early the morning after a ball?" She sounded almost like her usual self.

"They do." Chris collected the cocoa things and left. Lilly extinguished the light as she left the room.