The mask is slipping. I have put up with the cabal of dissenters who try to undermine the rule of law in favor of the military regime. They place their own agendas above the welfare of the people whom they claimed to represent.

My task was to slip in and reconnoiter the situation, but that changed when I made my report. The king instructed me to stay in cover and continue to monitor the progress of these rebels until a plan could be made to destroy the rogue element without making them martyrs.

That was seven months ago.

I tire of acting like these animals.

At this point, the very way which they eat grates on my nerves and I long for the moment when I can escape the dining halls and return to my homeland. I know most of the people who live here are not our enemies, but they remain ambiguous in their allegiance. I must remain and try to sow the seeds of loyalty to the monarchy rather than to the rebels who are trying to take control.

But wait. A messenger approaches the hall with a missive.

The king is dead. The royal line is broken.

General Frommand stands at the head place just to my left and he smiles at the news of their success. That horrible, greedy grin spreads across his face as I move toward him through the throng or reveling rebels. Unnoticed, I close the distance between us and draw out my concealed dagger.

Blood splatters across the floor as I slash across Frommand’s neck, cutting off the head of the snake. His carotid artery spurts as his heart pumps the blood out of his body before I bury the knife into his chest, sinking it to the hilt.

Turning, I make my urgent exeunt before the revolutionaries notice what I have done. I reach the door and run into the night, not looking back. What my next step should be, I know not, but I must return to the Capitol while I am still able.