Tigris was swinging her sword while blindfolded. While Roche found that as a good way to get her head lopped off, Tigris moved with practised ease. She easily knocked away a seasoned knight the moment they so much as twitched towards her.

It was actually impressive. Roche had actually nearly impaled herself while sharpening that very sword, and she hadn't been wearing a blindfold.

Tigris tore off her blindfold the moment the knight was on the ground, her sword pressed against the delicate flesh of his throat. She pulled back, holding her hand to help the man back up, already pointing out errors in the knight's stance. Roche smiled at the sight.

"I don't know how you survived, but rest assured, I won't fail a second time." a voice whispered in her ear. Roche felt the cold press of a blade against her back. She didn't have to turn to know that Harold was standing behind her bench, his stance so casual that no one would see the dagger he'd discreetly placed against the small of her back.

She went perfectly still, her heart racing. He leaned closer, the scraggly hairs of his chestnut beard brushing the shell of her ear until she shivered.

"Go on," he whispered, "Make a face. Scream. Call for your precious princess and I'll tell her the truth of what runs through your veins."

Roche kept her eyes forward, locked on Tigris. "You have no proof. She'd rend you limb from limb for such a false allegation." Roche replied confidently. Harold's low chuckle sent a chill up her spine.

"Really? You think she'd take the word of a measly servant over the word of the head knight?" his voice was teasing, disgustingly playful.

"Tigris values all of her citizens."

"Does she now?" the dagger point pressed just hard enough to pierce her flesh. Roche swallowed. "Because I was guarding her during that Council session. She didn't fight very hard for you commoners."

"I'd like to see you go up against the king." Roche shot back. "Besides, I think you're forgetting that I don't need Tigris to fight for me."

Roche focused her mind just enough for an incantation to sound. Harold hissed as the hilt of his dagger glowed with sudden, scorching heat. Roche forced herself not to turn as he let out a strangled grunt, dropping the burning dagger.

Harold ripped off his burnt glove, revealing perfectly smooth skin. Roche winced. Right. She'd forgotten the copy was invulnerable.

"Nice try," Harold muttered, his eyes flattening with fury, "But now you've just irritated me and the Council. And-"

"Sir Harold!" Tigris called from across the field. The princess wiped sweat off her forehead, flicking it across the grass, "You're up."

Harold picked up his now cooled dagger. He flipped it in his hand. Roche couldn't help but note how he caught it with the sharp tip pointed towards her.

"Say a word about me to the princess, and your little secret will be out." he whispered as he walked past her. His sinister expression smoothed out instantly as he marched towards the princess, whistling a jubilant tune. Roche glared at his back, clenching her jaw so hard that she heard a tooth crack.

"You okay?" Roche turned to find Kai walking towards her. His concerned eyes were focused on Harold as the knight pulled his sword out of his sheath.

"Yeah," Roche forced a cheerful expression to her face, "How's Finn doing?"

"Better. He's still a bit upset about the tax meeting." Kai replied, pointing to where Finn and Aodh were locked in an argument at the edge of the training field, across from where Tigris was currently sparring with Sir Harold. Roche focused her gaze on the fight, watching the quick clash of blades before Tigris disarmed the knight with ease.

Kai followed Roche's gaze and his eyes darkened. "I still don't like him. Finn's convinced it was him outside Tigris' chambers. So am I."

"And I." Roche muttered, her eyes narrowing to slits, "He just doesn't seem like himself."

Kai went quiet, watching Tigris hand the fake knight his blade and demonstrate an error in his parry. Harold's face was intent with concentration. Roche nearly snorted. He was putting up a good act, she had to give him that.

"What was he talking to you about?" Kai asked quietly. Roche shrugged.

"Something about blades." And stabbing them. Into Tigris and me.

"Oh," Kai bit his lip. He eyed Tigris with concern as the princess and Harold got back into sparring position. "I wish Tigris could see what was wrong with him. Maybe he needs help."

Roche snorted. "She won't. She feels guilty for accidentally leaving him behind and she'll do anything to make up for it, even if that means ignoring all his warning signs."

Kai smiled wistfully, his eyes drifting back to the princess. "That's Tigris. She's got a good heart."

Roche turned to her best friend, noting the slight flush to his features. "Oh my gods. You like her!"

"What?" Kai spluttered, spinning around. "I-I don't."

"Oh this is incredible." Roche smiled deviously, rubbing her hands together, "Tell me everything, I want blackmail!"

"Roche!" Kai squeaked, his cheeks darkening with a blush. "I-I'm not... Tigris isn't..."

Roche cackled. "I'm going to have blackmail for years! Now if you tell me that Aodh's a saint in disguise, I'll know that you just want to be in a lip lock with his-" A loud grunt cut Roche's rant off. She turned back to the match playing out on the training grounds, a match that many knights had stopped fighting to watch.

Tigris and Fake Harold were going at it in earnest. Their blades met with a metallic screech overhead. Tigris used her momentum to swing their blades to the side before dancing back to avoid a swipe. Sweat dripped down her temple. Harold didn't look nearly as tired. He darted forward, as quick as a viper, jabbing at Tigris' sword arm. Tigris instantly parried the blow, but Harold twisted his wrist, forcing her arm up to keep hold of her weapon.

Tigris stepped back and Harold swiped for her head. Tigris ducked beneath it, darting forward in the opening that his movement created to press her sword against his chest.

What happened next was so quick that Roche wouldn't have noticed if she wasn't paying extreme attention.

Harold moved to knock away Tigris' sword and she pressed closer, caught in a downwards parry. In his other hand, something metallic gleamed.

Something metallic and small and sharp that didn't belong in a swordfight.

Roche watched it hurtle towards Tigris' unprotected side. Tigris caught the motion and began to turn, still trying to identify what was currently in Harold's hand.

Roche reached for her inkblood instantly, sending the incantation she'd used moments ago hurtling towards the illegal dagger held in the knight's grip.

Pweros kleiolum.

Harold grunted as the hilt of his dagger blazed with heat and he instinctively dropped it to the ground. Roche held the incantation in place as Sir Harold paused his fighting to meet her eyes with surprise. Roche offered him a toothy grin, forcing more inkblood towards the blade just because she could. The dagger melted into a puddle of gooey metal, sizzling in the grass. Tigris dropped her gaze in confusion at the sound and Harold took the opportunity to move with a strike towards her neck.

Kai yelped in warning, and Tigris instantly had her blade up. She twisted her wrist, disarming the fake knight. His sword flew out to the side, and Roche looped her inkblood around it to send it just a bit further.

Tigris' chest heaved as she held out her sword, pressing it against Fake Harold's jugular.

"Do you yield?" Tigris demanded, panting hard. Harold nodded, his face carefully blank, but Roche could see the ire swimming in his gaze. Tigris lowered her sword, wiping trickling sweat off her face. She bent to the grass, frowning at the molten piece of metal.

"How odd. I thought the steward sent someone to tend to the fields yesterday." Tigris mused. Harold turned his gaze towards Roche, his eyes absolutely murderous.

"Strange indeed, my lady." he gritted out. There was no light in his eyes as he glared at Roche, only a solitary threat of murder.

"Roche?" Kai asked quietly.

"Yeah, Kai?"

"Did you piss him off somehow?"

Roche batted her eyes. "Me?"

Kai elbowed her. "I'm serious. He looks mad at you."

"Ah, he's probably just trying to find some shade. The sun has no business being this bright during autumn." Roche replied distantly as she met Harold's gaze with a small smirk.

Game on, Fake Harold. Roche promised silently.

The knight sneered as if he'd heard the threat and turned away, marching back towards the castle. Roche watched him go, her triumph fading as she glimpsed Finn turn to stare at Harold's retreating figure, his face going bloodless.

Roche bit her lip. Finn's visions from the test had been eerily similar to reality, even if Tigris staunchly denied it. He'd seen her drowning, and judging from his sudden waxen pallor, he'd seen Sir Harold throwing her off the cliff.

As if he sensed the thought, Finn turned to meet her gaze. He didn't nod or acknowledge her. He just stared at her, his eyes flickering with indecipherable emotion. Then he turned back to Aodh without another word, diving back into his conversation.

Roche felt cold despite the afternoon sun, curiosity creeping over her. Had Finn seen something else?

"Has Finn talked to Tigris about his concerns regarding Sir Harold yet?" Roche asked Kai quietly. The servant hesitated.

"No," he admitted, lowering his gaze, "He's on thin ice with the king and the other heirs right now after his recent outbursts. Tigris and Aodh are worried about him and his past few hysterics have been proven to be unfounded. He doesn't want to create another false alarm."

Roche bit her lip. He was right, the visions hadn't been totally accurate. Finn had predicted that Tigris would die fighting the Atrex, but she hadn't. Again, he'd thought that Roche would drown, but she hadn't. The visions were close to reality, but they couldn't be trusted.

Unwillingly, the image of Finn staring at her with blank eyes after he surfaced from the dungeons filled her mind. Roche shook away the image and rose to her feet. Finn might not know the future, but Roche knew an irritating bird obsessed with Tigris who might. Perhaps they'd know where the real Harold was.

"I need to go." she told Kai, who was staring at her quizzically. He furrowed his thick brows.

"Now?" he glanced at Tigris, who was currently locked in a spar with another knight, "But Tigris hasn't asked for anything yet."

Roche grinned sheepishly. "Don't tell her, but I forgot to dry her laundry."

"Roche, why?" Kai groaned, "You're going to get fired one of these days."

Roche widened her eyes pleadingly. "Don't tell her?"

"Fine. Just this once." Kai muttered disapprovingly. Roche chuckled, racing off for the castle. She walked through the halls as casually as she could manage. She'd made it to the library when she noticed two figures standing in front of the library doors. One of them terrified her, the other simply annoyed her.

"Has it been done?" Aodh was asking, his face set in his usual semi permanent scowl. Harold lowered his green eyes obediently.

"Nearly, sire. I just need a few more days-"

"The tournament is in a few days!" Aodh snapped, crossing his arms as he glared at the knight, "If you can't do it in time, I'll need to find someone who can."

"Yes, my lord." Harold dipped into a bow, his overgrown brown hair covering his face, "I'll see to it. You can trust me."

"I'm sure." Aodh fixed the fake knight with an unimpressed look. "I don't want to see any more blood in the castle, do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord. I simply need access to the library to confirm a few concerns." Harold replied smoothly. Confusion stirred with Roche.

"Of course." Aodh's hand drifted to his belt, unfastening a large key. He pressed it into the head knight's hand. "Verita's on lunch break so the library should be empty at the moment. Ensure you remain unseen, please."

"Certainly." Harold reached for the key gleefully. Seeing it in his hands made Roche's blood boil. Aodh had basically signed her death warrant. What on earth could be so serious and secretive that it required a key to the library, the most secure place in the castle?

Roche didn't want to find out what could happen when Harold had access to the library's front doors. She stepped out of the shadows before Harold could grab the keys and strode for the door. She planted a surprised expression on her face as Aodh and Harold spun around. Aodh immediately clipped his key back onto his belt.

Roche didn't miss the frustration that flashed across the fake knight's face.

"Roche," Aodh's voice was gruff. His eyes narrowed at her. "What are you doing here?"

Roche lifted a brow. "I should be asking you the same question. The library is off limits during lunch, my lord."

"How dare you address the prince in such a disrespectful manner?" Harold snapped, his jaw ticking. His eyes burned with hatred that knocked Roche back a step. Aodh glanced at Harold with a small amount of surprise and a hefty amount of amusement.

"At ease, Sir Harold. Roche is Verita's apprentice. Though she is insolent," Aodh said, his lips turning up with a smile when Roche scowled, "She is fulfilling her duty by guarding the library. However, I asked first, so she should answer me first."

Roche pursed her lips. "I'm going to make lunch." she answered tightly. Aodh's eyes flickered with confusion.

"The kitchens have portions for you. Why have you come here?" he asked. Roche searched for an excuse, trying to keep her face blank.

"It's... unseasoned." she blurted out after a moment.

Aodh lifted a brow. "Unseasoned?" he repeated dubiously.

Roche nodded. "I need my spice fix every once in a while, Prince Aodh, or I'll go insane."

"Aren't you already?"

She scowled at him. "You haven't answered my question, my lord."

"I don't need to." Aodh turned to Sir Harold, "Sir Harold needs the library. I trust you'll let him in and out as protocol demands?"

Damn it. She couldn't refuse a royal demanding access to the library. This wasn't a time of emergency, like when Finn had been poisoned, when Roche had the authority to kick out anyone, including the royals. No, she had to obey Aodh or she wouldn't be fulfilling her duties as a librarian's apprentice.

Harold shot her a triumphant grin that landed like a physical blow.

Roche gritted her teeth. "Of course, sire. I'll remain in the library to attend to him since Verita is currently unavailable."

"Great." Aodh nodded to Sir Harold, "See to all of his needs."

Roche mumbled an affirmation. Aodh left with a small grin. Harold leaned against the wall.

"Well? Let me in then." the copy sneered gleefully. Roche clenched her jaw tightly.

"Of course," her voice was high and mocking as she unhooked her own key, unlocking the large doors with a boom, "What would you like to read? The top ten ways to assassinate the princess? Oh, here's one, how to survive as an imposter in the royal court? I think those books are in aisle three."

Fake Harold snorted, slipping through the open doors. "Bold words for a girl whose days are numbered."

Roche felt a shock of fear roll through her before she could suppress it. She slammed the doors to the library shut hard enough that the walls shook. "Whatever you're planning won't work." she growled, "Tigris survived your assassination attempt and I got out of your freaky little chains. You're a terrible assassin."

"I'm sure." Fake Harold didn't sound too peeved. Roche felt a shred of unease stir in her gut. She followed the fake knight deeper into the library, her inkblood thrumming. What kind of game was he playing?

Roche squared her shoulders. "What books are you looking for, Sir Harold?" Roche spat, "So I don't have to see you in this sacred space for much longer."

Harold appraised her with an amused look. "Yes, I do suppose the Faultless library would be sacred to an inkblood. I can't imagine how horrified the king would be to know that he's been allowing you to strengthen and grow your inkblood with all of his precious, precious books. I wonder when I'll tell him."

Roche felt a stab of fear. "Tell him what I am, and he'll know what you are." Roche promised, extending her hand. "Xeosure."

Her inkblood leapt to respond, becoming visible with a single thought. It spooled in her hands, solidifying into a long, obsidian blade capable of cutting through flesh and inkblood. Harold's lip curled like he remembered the sting of the weapon splitting his flesh, the only weapon that could. Roche kept it level a hair's breadth away from his chest, just as Tigris had taught her.

Harold didn't try moving away. He remained perfectly still. "You don't want to do that."

"I think I do." Roche whispered, pressing forward. She wanted to stab him through, but she restrained herself. There was a reason he wasn't fighting back and she was going to figure out what it was.

"You don't," Harold repeated, "Because if you somehow manage to kill me with that incantation of yours, then the real Sir Harold will be condemned to his death."

A chill ran down Roche's spine. She pressed forward, holding the blade against his sternum. "You're lying."

"I'm not," he kept his arms splayed, a cocky grin on his face, "Go ahead. Try it and see what happens."

Roche wavered for a moment. She should do it. Stab him right through and stop him before he does something to Tigris. She readied herself for the motion, but her hand remained frozen. An image bloomed in her mind of the real Sir Harold trapped in a dingy cell, his kind, green eyes widening with agony and confusion as he keeled over dead. There was another breath, and she was watching Lady Ismere's eyes bloom with shock before going glassy, her hand falling limp from her gaping wound.

Roche took a shuddery breath. She wasn't like Lady Ismere. She couldn't trade lives. Roche released the incantation with a flick of her hand, taking several careful steps back.

Fake Harold's grin widened, so leery and unlike the Real Harold's patient smile. The sight of it made Roche's blood boil.

"Where is the real Harold?" Roche demanded as Sir Harold turned around, walking straight for the exit. Confusion stirred within her. "Where are you going? Prince Aodh asked you to do something here."

Harold paused by the doors, smirking. "And I have. He asked me to investigate a possible traitor. I think he'll love to hear my findings, don't you?"

A wave of dread crashed into Roche as the door to the library clicked shut.

A/N: A little bit of BAMF Roche for you and then scared Roche :)

Happy reading everyone!!!1