The immense palace, which housed the Romefeller Foundation, was filled with the warm glow of candles and fireplaces and the enticing smells of a large banquet. As their carriage approached the building, Une could only feel overwhelmed at the size of the palace and the amount of people walking through the open doors of the stately mansion.
The coach came to a halt, and Une was helped out of the carriage. Treize offered his arm, and they proceeded up the steps leading to the entryway and made their way to the ballroom on the second floor.
As soon as Treize was seen, he was assailed by several people- members of the Foundation, their wives, and a flirtatious, young woman or two. Une released his arm and separated herself from the cluster of bodies.
She settled into her role of observer and soon noticed someone moving in the shadows across from her. Someone who appeared to be carrying a rifle of some sort. Une started towards the apparent assassin, but her path was blocked by a group of revelers, and she lost sight of her quarry.
Hopefully, they came here for the same reason I did. It'll make my job easier,she said to herself; and, turning her back on her fellow assassin, she returned to her position.
Later that evening, Treize found his assistant and pulled her onto the dance floor. "Seen anything suspicious?" he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to attract the attention of any of the flirtatious, young women who still hounded his every move.
"Not really. I thought I saw someone sneaking around, but I was wrong."
"You're absolutely sure?"
Une nodded. "Yes, but why do you ask?"
"I've heard that someone is going to kill Duke Dermail. Keep an eye out."
"I always do," Une reassured. "By the way, where is Dermail? I haven't seen him at all."
"He'll be arriving shortly. Oh, there he is now." He gestured behind Une, and she turned to study her target.
The gray-haired man wore a blue-gray coat with a dark blue sash attached to his right shoulder and his left hip. He had a beard and seemed almost grandfatherly, except that his eyes were far too cold. He strode powerfully through the gatherers, stopping to greet his colleagues, and stepped up to the stage set up against the far wall.
As he welcomed his guests, Une once again left Treize's side and moved closer to the raised platform, appearing to be getting a better view of Dermail, but actually obtaining a clearer shot at her prey, so it was far less likely to accidentally shoot someone else.
Glancing around, she saw that everyone was fixated on the speaker, so she reached for her pistol, but replaced it when a gunshot rang out, echoing throughout the large room and causing several to cry out.
Une smiled, satisfied that her work had been completed by someone else, but then she realized that Dermail was still standing, obviously having not been shot. Her smile fading, the would-be assassin slowly rotated, until she was facing the way she had come. Only one person's death, other than Dermail's, could possibly achieve anything for the benefit of peace.
Treize's.
An icy hand gripped her heart, when she caught sight of the people milling around where Treize had been standing. Her eyes filling with tears, Une rushed forward and squeezed through the shocked party-goers.
Just as she reached his side, Une sank to the floor, her knees too weak to support her, and knotted her hands in his blood-soaked coat. The room, which had been quiet before, fell into a deathly stillness. The only sound that of Une's sobs.