Orion Magnus had to admit, he was impressed with the killer of a girl.

Woman, by the looks of it. However, it appeared that beauty wasn't her only weapon. She walked with the stealth of a feline. Her eyes reminded him of his masters, calm and calculating. Over all, the only thing that shocked him was the twinge of distrust in her eyes. It left him wondering if she'd learned it from the prison, or if it was something more.

His eyes scanned the woman's collar. It was only appropriate, given her history and all, but still gave a touch of the inhumane.

The woman walked with an unusually wide strut for someone her size, but still small enough that he doubted anyone without a trained eye could spot it.

"Cecily," his royal highness said, standing, "how're you feeling?"

She gave a nod.

"Good, good. Alma Reebank, meet Cecily Earnheart. For this competition, you'll be relying on her to keep you safe."

Orion wasn't sure what he expected from the forever calculation murderer. There was never any guarantee with the wild card, emphasis on wild. However, she did the same thing she'd done earlier. Offered a gentle hand, ready to be rejected of accepted. Her eyes shown with a twinge of understanding when Alma stared at the extension of truce.

The assassin wasn't sure if he should've been surprised when the Saint took the killers hand and firmly shook it.

Cecily offered a smile before turning away, examining once again. She wasn't anywhere near as interested in the little girl as she had been in him and the foreign guard. Orion felt a bit of pride, despite knowing it probably wasn't the best thing to feel at the acceptance of murderer, but still. She'd seen him as a threat of some sort.

In a heartbeat, she was striding over to him. He felt his hands drift towards his weapons, but relaxed when she simply took the free seat besides him.

The prince was sitting again, right besides the Saint, a small smile playing on his lips. Who could blame him, really? He was finally taking the opportunity to claim his birthright.

"I'm sure you all know the rules of the game, but, for the sake of tradition, I have to go over them and you all need to sign off. The start of the game is signified by the first death. We're given a few names at a time, all through a private channel from my father, your king's, network. After all the names on the list are crossed off, once all my possible future enemies are dead, I have a coronation, which, should you survive, all of you will be brought in as guests of honor."

There was a pause as the prince stopped to breath.

"Now for the part not known by the public. Should the competitor, be prince of princess, die during the competition, the first round of the game is lost. After the death, the kingdom must wait for the coming of age of the next in line for the throne, the next oldest or the King's children. Should the competitor have no siblings, and none can be given, all other noble families have the right to compete for the throne.

"Should the current king or queen die before the child's game is finished, noble families have the right to take the throne. If the prince or princess finishes the game after their parents death, they must kill or take the throne from the current holder. They will be given the right to compete, even after loosing their nobility.

"In my case, I have no other siblings. If I loose the game, if I die, other noble families have the right to compete for the throne. They have no reason to complete deals made before my death."

Orion caught the pointed look the prince gave Cecily. She didn't so much as flinch, but he could sense something more behind the look, something between the two of them. He may have to play peacekeeper during this competition, by the looks of it.

"Those are the rules," the prince continued, "and now for your conditions. According to the papers you're going to be signing, you nor your family can hold me or the royal family, and associates, liable. You'll be provided food, drink, bed, and any necessary weapons and/or goods. Now, by bed I don't mean a nice hotel everyday. We may be sleeping outside in a tent while the rain pours around us."

A snort came from the unruly guard named Reiko. "Just like the old days, huh guys? And by old days I mean hundreds of years ago."

Alma gave a small laugh, more like a complimentary laugh, but it seemed to satisfy the guard just fine. Orion knew his type, the comic relief.

The prince cleared his throat, ignoring the joke. "If you're all in agreement, Reiko?"

The guard, in reply, walked off. When he came back moments later, he had several papers and a few pens, which were passed between the four mismatched competitors. Cecily stared at the paper a few seconds before gracefully running the pen over it, leaving a trail of black ink in the shape of her name.

After Zephyr went through each of the papers, checking the signatures, he spoke again. "Good. We'll leave by tonight."

"Tonight?" The Saint questioned. "Isn't that a bit soon?"

The prince nodded. "The sooner we leave, the less one of us has a chance to be suspicious. First thing's first, necessities. Pack light. Keep in mind that you may have to be carrying all this for, possibly, miles. Whatever supplies you need to purchase will be reimbursed by the treasury. From this point on, Alma and myself will need to be accompanied by either Reiko or Magnus. Cecily, once I have more faith in her." He gave a curt nod to the beautiful woman.

She nodded back, in understanding.

"Good, now that that's understood, off to packing. I'll keep Magnus with me, as well as Cecily. Reiko, could you escort Ms. Reebank to her housing so she could pack?"

The guard gave a quick nod before looking to the Saint who quickly stood.

When both of them were out of the room, Cecily spoke for the first time since Orion met her.

"She seems young to be a Saint," the woman commented.

The assassin had to nod in agreement.

"She is," the prince explained. "But she's the best at what she does."

"How old?" Cecily asked.

"Turns sixteen in a week."

"If she survives that long."

The prince gave her a pointed look. "It's always sunshine and rainbows for you, isn't it?"

She shrugged. "I'd rather accept the odds before facing them."

"It's almost unheard of for a contestant to loose the game."

"Not entirely true. Normally, the royal family has more than one child to keep them going. If you loose, so does the kingdom. And, while the odds look pretty good for you, surrounded by three fighters and a Saint, they're not so great for us.. Probability is, at least two of us are going to die. I'm not saying I'm rooting for it, but I'd put my money on the one that can't defend herself." She gave a pointed look to the prince. "The one who didn't hire his own little militia to protect him."

Beautiful, stealthy, and smart. What a terrifyingly dangerous combination.

The prince gave a sigh, but continued on anyways. "I've already had my stuff brought to the car that'll take us to a more isolated location. Cecily, I believe Rei's had you do the same. That leaves you, Orion."

"You're going to follow me to my room?"

The prince shrugged. "I can't exactly defend myself with a weapon, as our hunter so kindly pointed out, and I don't have the greatest faith in my murderous friend here. That leaves you. So, to answer your question, yes. I'll be accompanying you to your room. Cecily will too, of course."

Of course the prince had a politicians tongue, of course.

---

Reiko had to give it to the small girl. For someone who was supposed to be used to blood and death, she sure was shy. Unbelievably so.

Walking down the halls of the Saint's Keep, she didn't so much as squeak a word to him.

Reiko didn't like that. The silence.

"You're how old?" He asked.

Her eyes scanned him for a second. "Fifteen."

He nodded as they turned a left. "How did someone your age get all the way to the position of Saint? Aren't most of you guys like, thirty?"

"On average, medics reach the position of Saint at around the age of twenty-five. And I worked hard."

"I read your file, you know," he said.

Silence.

So he continued. "What I could glance of it at least. You were picked up off a battlefield at as an infant. Too young to even remember a name let alone a family. I wonder what you had to do to get to where you are now."

"Shall I mention that right knee of your to the prince?"

Now it was his turn to shut his mouth.

"Didn't think I noticed? It's my job to take in the human's physical, verging on mental, status and examine it. Seems like an old wound. By your reaction, I'd say the prince doesn't know. I'd say, more than a young Saint, it's more curious where the Royal Guard picked up a Fendran. Your home countries so far away, after all. How exactly did you wind up here?"

"You're playing a dangerous game, girly."

She shrugged. "I sit in a room with disease and death all day. I lie to people. Tell them that they'll survive when they probably won't. I hold their hand and tell them that they'll get to go home to their family while their soul slips into the next world. I don't know if you'd call it dangerous, but it sure hardens the nerves, Mr..."

"Reiko. Reiko Zeektra."

"Mr. Zeektra."

"Reiko. Most people call me Rei."

She smiled, small, sweet, and gentle. "Well then, Rei, I hope that we both survive this cruel game."

He smiled back, purely out of curtesy.

---

Alma had always been used to lying for the sake of others. You're going to be fine. You'll see your family again. You saved them all. Those things, she was used to. Calling it s game was cruel and unusual.

But the Fendran guard felt like playing with her, she could do at least that much.

Probably.

Maybe.