Isolde fell to the ground, a pool of blood spreading beneath her.
Victor also collapsed, though his fall was from fear, landing hard on his rump.
"Good job,"
He heard his own guards mutter to the traitors, the ones that had stabbed Isolde.
They moved with practiced ease. Professionals, they must be.
Victor's teeth began to chatter.
'I'm dead. I am so dead'
Whether or not he survived this encounter, he would be killed eventually.
"Should we kill him?"
He heard a voice asked.
"No point,"
Another replied, then added
"Get ready to retreat."
But just then, a cheerful, feminine voice cut in. It was sharp, steady, laced with a twinge of authority.
"Well, that was easy."
Victor looked up, startled.
It was one of his maids. One who had stayed behind. He hadn't even noticed her.
She approached the enemy mages, her posture relaxed, almost playful.
"Buuuut"
She said as she pointed toward Isolde's slumped figure
