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The soldier slapped the necklace against Lin's chest and turned on his heel. "Take them all!" he ordered his men angrily. "And-"

He cut himself off and stared at Mari, who, when he'd been by the stairs, had been blocked from his sight by Mathias and Chesnet. The anger dissipated from his face, turning into incredulity. He looked as though he were about to speak, but then he shook his head and continued on to the stairs.

"Take them all!" he ordered.

The soldiers pulled everyone's hands behind their backs and tied their wrists, and when that was finished, they started marching everyone towards the stairs.

Andarien had been mostly numb since he'd been given the news about his father, and he didn't react to the soldiers at all. Wren was indignant, but she had enough sense not to protest. Lancaeriel remained silent and complacent, much like Mari. Chesnet and Mathias went along, but not willingly: both of them, especially Mathias, shoved their guards aside and walked ahead of them rather than being led forward.

When they were led upstairs, they saw that Tsara, Dae'er and Arphenion had also been arrested and being held by soldiers. Kyrie was nowhere in sight. For a moment, Dae'er and Arphenion looked anxious; but when they saw that their children were not with the rest of them, they relaxed.

"That's the lot of them," the soldier in silver told the soldiers upstairs. "Let's go."

Oddly enough, it seemed as though Mari was the most confident of all the prisoners. While they were being marched along, she alone held her head high, and those who knew her well were able to detect the hint of a smile on her face - just a hint, not nearly enough to alert any of the soldiers.

As they walked, they did attract a few stares, but no one stared long, frightened away by the soldiers. No one wanted to join those who were under arrest.

Eventually they reached the palace. The gates were opened for them, and they were marched inside the walls and up the long path that led to the entryway.

The palace was not made of marble, like most of the palaces that the travelers were familiar with: instead, it was made of cold, gray stone. Aside from the curtain wall, it was not built like a fortress: it was more a palace for pleasure and for show, with large windows, multiple walkways and towers, and flags and banners hanging everywhere: black ravens against a gold field. There were soldiers lining the path as well, and while most of them looked at the group expressionlessly as they passed, a few of their eyes widened ever so slightly when they looked at them.

The inside of the palace was much like its outside: gray walls covered in tapestries and the same black and gold banners; red carpets along the centers of the halls; and guards everywhere.

The entryway was enormous, and while two corridors led out from each side, the hall that lay directly ahead of them was by far the largest, and it was in this direction that the group was taken. Partway down the hallway was a large door, and it was to this door that the soldiers took their prisoners.

As they waited for the door to be opened, Lancaeriel stared at it in a mixture of anxiety and breathless anticipation, so different from how she had been when they'd left the house. But she remained silent as the door was opened and the group was ushered forward into a large room. It was brightly lit both by torches and tall windows. A long carpet rolled from the door to the other end of the room, where a single golden throne was perched on a raised dais. Beside the dais was a desk, and near the desk were three people: a handsome young man, well dressed, who was leaning over the desk and looking at something on it; and a tall, muscular man who was talking in low tones with a bald, one-armed man who was standing beside him.

"My lord," said the soldier in silver, stepping forward and kneeling on one knee, "we have the prisoners."

The rest of the soldiers spread out, pushing their prisoners in front of them so that the men at the other end of the room could see them.

Dae'er was pale and trembling, and Arphenion was clenching his fists in anger. Lancaeriel was also paler than usual, which was saying something, and she looked as though she was fighting not be sick.

All three of the men turned to look at them and then started towards them, and the muscular man was the one who spoke.

"Quite a few of them," he said, sounding impressed. "More than we were led to believe."

The burly man kept looking them over as he approached them.

"Ah, Arphenion," he said, sounding smug. "Didn't I tell you that it would come to this? And Dae'er. It seems people aren't calling you the beauty of the city anymore."

Dae'er had tears in her eyes, but she just glared at the man; Arphenion tried to lunge for him, but he was shoved to the ground by the soldier who was guarding him.

"Tut, tut, Arphenion, you ought to know better than that," the man chuckled softly, though his eyes were not laughing. "Such a foolish idea as that could get you hurt."

With his hands tied behind his back, there was nothing for Arphenion to do and no way for him to protect himself as the burly man kicked him in the ribs. He gasped in pain, then gritted his teeth to keep it in.

"You've not changed a bit, General," Mari spoke up angrily. "Still as cowardly as ever. Kick a man when he's down. Stab a family while they're asleep."

The General froze at the sound of Mari's voice, then turned towards her, his expression one of stunned disbelief. "You?" he breathed, coming towards her. "Impossible ..."

Mari was glaring at the General. "Impossible? No. Improbable, perhaps. And perhaps the next time you're going to kill someone, you should make sure you do the job properly."

The General stopped just in front of her, and the other two men were not far behind him.

"Princess Mari Ruavia," he said quietly. "Unbelievable. How did you survive?" He reached forward and tugged down the top of her tunic, revealing an ugly scar that covered a good portion of her chest, around her heart.

Mathias had been watching with growing anger for the past few minutes, but at the General's affront, he shook off his guard and charged the burly man. "Keep your hands off her!" he snarled; but the General knocked him aside easily.

"I remember you," he scowled down at Mathias, who had fallen to his knees. "Spent all your time convincing Prince Calimacar to skip out on his lessons and go hunting with you. So much for your devotion to the prince. I guess you had to settle for the closest thing - his sister!"