I knocked on the door.

"Just a minute," came a faint reply from inside. Even though I was nervous a heck, I waited patiently outside, letting him finish whatever he was doing. A moment later, he pulled open the door, dressed in a casual shirt and trousers. His hair was slightly wet and so was his face.

"I have to tell you something," I whispered, glancing a quick look at the stairs.

He frowned. "Um, sure..." He pulled back the door further and let me in. "What is it?"

Hesitantly, I trotted into his room. I noticed that there was a bowl of water and a flannel next to it on his bedside table. He probably used it to clean himself. The rest of his room was dark and only a small candle which was about to die out sat in a wax filled silver plate on the floor.

He flopped down on his bed and waited for me to start talking, giving me a questionable look. I took a deep, shaky breath to gather my brains before I spoke.

"It's about the people downstairs. They... They… We should ask them to leave."

He tilted his head, puzzled. "What? Why?"

I raked a hand through my hair, not sure how to tell him. Should I tell him in the first place? But if I do, he'll ask how I know, and then I'll have to explain about the whole episode at the ball. He'll burst. I know he will.

"They… They're bad people!" I whispered, casting a quick glance behind me. I'd heard that assassins were used to being quick on their feet and good at masking their presence; I wouldn't know if one of them was right behind me.

Sven frowned. "Bad people? In what sense?"

I put my hands to my face and dragged them down, groaning. "Just- I know you'll fret a lot when I say it, so I don't want to say it."

He narrowed his eyes. "What? Tell me."

I bit my bottom lips, my eyes searching the floor for help. But the floor gave no answers, no aid whatsoever. Sighing, I looked up at Sven who was giving me a worried look now.

"Assassins!" I whispered, in case my voice floated downstairs.

"What?"

"They're assassins!"

"Huh?"

"ASSASSINS!" I hissed, looking worriedly at the door. "They're assassins, Sven, murderers! There are murderers in our house!"

He frowned. "Um, you didn't drink at the ball, did you? I didn't smell anything on you earlier, though."

I threw my hands up in the air. "I'm not drunk!"

He folded his arms. "Then why are you blurting out such far-fetched hogwash? Look, I know they may seem intimidating, what with the black clothes and the scars and all, but there's no way these people could be assassins. Mama's known Uncle Sidmund for ages! And so have I. He's not a bad guy."

I scoffed. "How does that make him not an assassin? If he ever took on such a job, he surely wouldn't go around telling everybody, would he?"

Sven shook his head. "Why are you even blaming them for being assassins in the first place? You just met them, and they haven't done anything suspicious as of yet. Then why? What's the trigger?"

I turned around and put my forehead against the wall.

"Tell me!" Sven said behind me. "I believe you have your reasons. You're not stupid enough to go around blaming people of such offensive tripe without having one."

I groaned. My head had begun to hurt, the pain much worse now. I tried to think straight, contemplating whether I should tell him about the events at the ball or not. Eventually, I turned around.

"You remember the Marquess, don't you?"

He nodded. "That blonde guy?"

"Yes, that one. Apparently, he killed his brother for the title of future duke. Pretty messed up, I know."

"Wait, really?" Sven leaned forward, suddenly interested. "But he acted no less than a cheeky noble man."

I shrugged. "The people of Sovia want him dead for that very reason, calling him unfit for the possession of the duchy. The only thing left for him to take over his father's title was marriage, and since there was no way the people in Sovia would've allowed him to do so in his own country, he decided to do it here, in Wisteria."

"But why a Selection ball, then?" Sven interrupted. "Couldn't he have just found a girl to have a private ceremony with?"

"Tradition, most likely." I shrugged. "I heard someone raise the same question at the ball."

"Is that so?" he muttered as thoughts ran through his mind. He frowned as he looked up to me. "So the people sent assassins after him? How do you know all this? And how do you know the assassins were the same as the people downstairs?"

I took a deep breath and patted at the sweat forming on my forehead. "They were there, at the ball." Sven's eyes widened in alarm. "They shattered the windows and everything… and they have hand cannons, too. I heard them call each other by the names Sid and Klyn, and they were wearing black clothes. too. "

Sven looked at the floor, trying to digest this information. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he put 2 and 2 together. Soon, a look of utter shock passed his face.

"Wait, why didn't you tell me earlier?" he hissed. "You said everything went okay at the ball!"

"I lied, okay?" I threw my hands in the air again. "I knew you'd fret, just like you are now."

He looked at me as if I had gone crazy. "Yes, shouldn't I? You don't just hide such important information from people! Did anybody get hurt?"

I shook my head. "No, thankfully not."

He stood up and paced the floor, his hand on his chin in thought. "That's a relief," he murmured. "But why would Uncle Sidmund… No, I can't believe it! I didn't think- I haven't-" Then he looked at me. "Are you serious?"

I nodded. "I am. I'm certain it's them, Sven."

"Who's them?"

The door creaked open and two of the black dressed men stood in the doorway. I noticed Klyn at the back, and near the front was the man who had been sitting beside Sidmund at the table.

I looked back at Sven and he gave me a nervous shrug. Dang, we were both in a pickle here.

.

.

.

"My name's Ben," said the man next to Klyn.

"Uhh..." Sven faltered. "Do you need help with something?"

Ben glanced back at Klyn, then shrugged. "Nah, we were just looking at the rooms. Seems that you've cleaned them well, eh, Sven?"

He chuckled awkwardly, then nudged me. I stood, stiff as a board, not knowing what to do or how to react. Cautiously, my eyes wandered down to Ben's pocket and the angular bulge in there could have very well been a hand cannon. He could kill us in a second if he felt like it, I thought, sweating profusely.

I nudged Sven back. He didn't react.

"Why don't you kids come downstairs?" Ben asked, putting his hands on his hips in an animated way, the expression on his face amused. "Take part in the discussions and all, isn't that right, Klyn?"

Klyn plainly nodded.

"Uh, we appreciate it, Uncle Ben," Sven muttered as he looked at me. "We'll be down in a moment."

"Sure, sure~" Ben laughed and looked between us in a suggestive way. "Take your time, kids. Oh, to be young~"

With that, he turned to leave. Klyn took a moment or two to follow him down, giving us both a look of seeming contempt before leaving, too.

"Phew," Sven deflated as soon as they left. "I thought I was going to burst. Do you think they heard our conversation?"

I shook my head as I picked the candle off of the floor, the wick just about to drown in a puddle of wax. "Doesn't seem like it. What do we do now?"

Sven scratched his neck as he stared at the dying flame in my hand. "I don't know. Should we tell her, at least?"

"Not yet. Let's wait till everyone goes to bed."

He thought for a moment. "Okay."

As the black, burnt wick drowned into wax, we trotted downstairs where everyone still sat or stood in their usual spots, except Mama who was nowhere to be seen.

Ben beamed when he saw us descending the stairs. "Oh, you're back. Make way, Sid, let the kids sit."

The way Ben said 'Sid', I realized that he had been the one who had hopped in through the broken window back at the Grandeur Plaza. He was the one who had surveyed the area. Even the thought made me shudder.

Sidmund and Ben shuffled to one side and pulled forward two crates for both me and Sven to sit down on. Carefully, I sat on the one closest to the wall while Sven flopped down on the one next to Sidmund.

"So since when have you been here?" Sidmund asked, addressing me. "Ashli? Was that your name?"

I nodded. "Um, it's been almost a month."

All of them 'Ahhh'ed'. "Is that so?" Sidmund muttered as he sipped on his cup of tea. "What happened to your own abode?"

"Erm… my mother's sick and admitted to the health center in town. Since I was all alone at home, Mama offered to accompany me since she is, after all, a family friend."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

While all of them pondered over it, Sven gave me a kick under the table. I pinched his arm, away from the sights of everyone else and Sven winced with dull pain.

"You okay, lad?" Ben asked Sven, worried.

"Yep," he muttered as he glared at me. If we hadn't been stuck in this situation, I would've even laughed. But I didn't, since we were in no position to be extra frank. We were surrounded by assassins. Whatever could we let slip?