AN: Muahahaha I'm going all "Battle Royale" on this story! Brace yourselves!
Oh, side note;
Eleve- Thank you for the lovely review. I don't mind, as long as one person wants to read I want to write :)
So, without further ado, here is the next chapter
The Festival of Spring was days away, and Cadvan had noticed a decided change in his young charge. Maered had taken on a stony expression, hard lip, and in public, an air of forced civility. Cadvan knew she was struggling with her promise to him, and it hurt that she would retreat so deeply within herself in order to cope with the impending doom of her betrothed.
He himself had been withdrawn and sullen, his real emotions hidden under a mask of civility. He had not been sleeping, and people came daily with news of the Cause. They came on the lie that they were there for the festival, but they were to be the riot control, the soldiers should things turn sour.
Cadvan ran his finger along the edge of his blade, usually concealed within his shirt sleeve. Blood beaded up on the silver, and he drew his mouth into a hard line. If the poison did not work the blade would do.
He knew Jien would have to die first. He knew it would be poison that he would give her, that it would be mixed with her makeup, and that it would take nine minutes for her to die, enough time to find Vaner and finish the job.
He knew that she would be with Maered all that morning, and that she would put on large amounts of the tainted mix as she was a performer in the celebration. She would not make it to the stage.
He had expected to feel fear, loss, satisfaction, something, but he did not. He felt nothing as he contemplated ending these young bard's lives. This fact concerned him, but instead of going back to analyze his own feelings, or lack thereof, he ignored them and went on, teaching, and being noxiously pleasant to Vaner. The boy had a habit of chewing on the nib of his pen, and Cadvan observed that even poisoned ink would even do, but, out of vanity and his own personal sadism, he wanted to see Vaner suffer, for the boy to know who had done that to him. No, poisoning the ink would be boring, and besides, that would mean that he would have to perish within the day, and Jien would run. That could not happen. She could not run or communicate the leak.
He shut his eyes against the dim candle in his study, fighting his old tendencies. He would not go back, he would feel something for those traitorous children some day... wouldn't he?
Giving up for a moment, he lay the dagger down on his bedside table and stared at the ceiling. Sleep would come, but for the moment he was worried. Maered would not betray him, but she could, out of fear, let something slip and then it would be over. There would be war and barding would again become dangerous. That could not happen.
He was not an imbecile, he knew the risks, and he knew how it must happen. Precise, calculated. Perfect.
"Two days," he said aloud, "Two days."
AN: so here's more. If you want to suggest anything feel free. I'm open to suggestion, but things are going to get intense. R&R