Tasha had thought of murdering the Queen many times. She had fantasized about ripping off her head, tearing out her throat, stabbing her, shooting her, burning her, cutting her into little bits. But for all this, she hadn't even considered staking her. Not until Rosemarie's little 'speech'. The idea grew inside her, irresistible and almost poetic. Staking the Queen. It would be such a beautiful murder. Stakes were the perfect weapon- elegant and graceful, haunting in their fierce, lovely power. Dipped in magic- saturated with the elements the Moroi held dear- and yet renounced, stakes were the most efficient tool for killing Strigoi. Guardians, the same guardians that the Queen advocated sending on suicidal missions, were entrusted with them, and were expected to use them to safeguard the lives of the Moroi- the same Moroi that cowered behind their warriors and threw their soldiers into deadly battles. Stakes meant safety. Stakes were trusted. The Moroi would never imagine a stake being their enemy. That was why Tasha killed the Queen with a stake- for the delicious beauty of it. Oh, she still framed Rosemarie, of course, and it was a shame. She half wanted the world to acknowledge the beauty of it. Treason, maybe. Murder, definitely. But beautiful, too. So beautiful. Eventually Rosemarie made the Court aware of the deception, and Tasha's crimes were brought to light. It wasn't all bad. She hoped the Moroi and dhampirs would finally appreciate the beauty of the murder. But they didn't.