<strong>Name:</strong>Beatrix von Winterfeldt<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Queen's reception room<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Alveena, Diane<br/><hr/><br/>Having finished speaking for the moment, Beatrix gave a wan smile and silent nod as Queen Alveena addressed her, then returned to stand in rank with the other young ladies.  Although her back was straight and her chin high, the way her eyes seemed to search for something unseen on the floor near Queen Alveena's feet betrayed uncertainty.  She felt that she could have done better, could have spoken more eloquently.  Still, she showed initiative; that counted for something, yes?<br/><br/>As the others came forward to introduce themselves, Beatrix watched with interest, replaying her own brief speech in her mind for comparison.  Ultimately, she decided hers was as good as any of them, and it was no use to brood at this point.  Oddly, she found consolation in the notion -- having said her peace, she had given her destiny over to another, the true and only choice she could have made, no longer to concern herself with that burden.  She wondered if it had ever been hers to give.  In any case, whether that destiny was to claim the kingdom in Prince Randolf's name and bear his children as his future queen, or return to the Sisterhood and live out her days alone, or anything in between, she could do nothing but let it come and accept it.<br/><br/>Well, almost.<br/><br/>The assemblage of women turned their collective attention towards another of their number, a Sister whose name Beatrix didn't quite catch, preoccupied as she was by her own thoughts.  She found herself watching Queen Alveena, and had mere seconds to notice the short, dark-haired girl approach from the side of the room with knife in hand.  Jarred from her reverie, the blonde woman reached for her own blade, her body suddenly taking on the tension of a drawn bowstring.  The brief sound of metallic scraping rang out softly but clearly, and by the time the assassin's knife was at the queen's neck, Beatrix had raised her sword in turn.<br/><br/>She glared menacingly at the other girl, but did not move or speak.  The newcomer identified herself after several tense seconds and sheathed her blade, and it was a couple more seconds still that Beatrix exhaled and did the same, frowning all the while.<br/><br/>"I was always told it was death to bear steel against royalty," she said, just barely loud enough to hear.