It wasn’t as easy as killing the king. There were others who were just as corrupt and just as powerful. She knew that. But he would be the first.

Axelle and a group of her rebels crept along the outside of the royal stables as dusk fell over the city. They hoisted each other up onto the short roof until each of the fourteen men, and Axelle, were looking over the grounds from nine feet up. They kept moving without a word. The roof connected to the wall of the castle just below a wide, open window. They made for this window and slipped into the marbled hall silently, hurrying down the hall towards the door to the ballroom.

Here they waited, just around the corner from the door that the king would enter in just a hour.

With only eye contact and hand gestures the group communicated their plan, going over every detail so that every man knew what he was to do once the motion began.

They waited, their nervousness showing in the whites of their eyes and the stiffness of their bodies. But for Axelle. She was calm.