The rain drizzled down the walls outside the castle, a fine, wet mist that felt like nothing yet soaked you through. The early hours of the morning, still cloaked in darkness , we're disturbed by the guards disrupting something.
Both King Uther, Prince Arthur, and Morgana, Uther's ward, we're sent for; for both collective safety and for judgment.
Two of the night's guards, both men of size, stormed into the main hall. Between them they trailled the alleged assailant. She, who if she'd have been able to take herself to her entire height would only have been to their shoulder, and who by no means had the build about her to take the viscous beating they'd given, was barely able to stand. Her features nearly unrecognisable from swelling and blood; the front of her dark top was streaked with something, it could have been water, blood, or anything,yet it only darkened the black material.
Her breathing seemed like an effort, one easily recognised as broken ribs, and there was blood on her head and face.
"Your majesties!" The two guards bowed, "We apologise for the late disturbance." One of them began, "But we found this one in the halls near your bedchambers."
Her protest was met with a heavy back hand across the face from the guard, "Enough from you." He looked back towards Uther and his children, "my apologies, sir, however, the contents of her bag were concerning. I do fear she was sent to do harm."
"Your majesty, please, none of..." Isolde tried to speak up, but this time the guard hit her hard enough to floor her. She managed to get to her knees, but no further.
