[Lavinia's POV—On the Road to the Elorian War Camp—Nightfall]
CLANG!!
The night split open with steel. Sparks burst between my blade and the assassin's—too close, too fast. I pivoted, caught his wrist, and—
STAB.
The sword slid in clean, almost too easily. The man's eyes widened before the light went out of them. He hit the ground with a dull THUD, his blood spreading dark against the frost.
My breath clouded in the cold air. The metallic tang of it mixed with iron and smoke.
"Is that all of them?" I asked, wiping my blade against the dead man's cloak.
Sir Haldor's sword dripped crimson as he turned to me, armor streaked red. "No, Your Highness. We've taken care of every last one."
I sheathed my blade with a sharp click. "Good."
I turned slowly, taking in the aftermath: seven bodies, dark shapes sprawled across the snow, their movements stilled. The faint sound of crackling torches echoed across the hills.
