• A bird perched on the branch of a tree was singing a sweet melody. The leaves swayed with the wind and small puffy clouds dotted the sky. A butterfly fluttered over a field of flowers and soared into the sky. Everything was calm and peaceful under the glowing sun. The bird in the tree squawked and flew overhead, over hill and dale, water and grass. It sang a song of happiness and freedom, a song about soaring above the world. The bird gracefully swooped down and up, wandering aimlessly. It felt happy to be flying outside, and let the world know it.

    The happiness from outside even penetrated the thick stone walls of Kotare. The guards at the doors were humming and napping, and the cooks were making a special meal for the beginning of summer. The atmosphere was light and happy.

    Even Irina was relatively cheerful. She watched as two young men came into her room, carrying a huge tray of food. They obviously had not met her in person before, because they were nervously stuttering.

    “G-Good morning, M-miss Irina. This is your l-lunch.”

    Irina motioned them to come closer. They hesitated before taking a few small steps toward her. “What did the cooks give you to bring to me?”

    “Um, they t-told us to b-bring you this, Miss I-Irina. There’s s-salad, tomato soup, w-warm bread, roast b-beef, a baked potato, fish, c-chocolate cake, vanilla cake, ice cream and cookies, M-Miss Irina. There’s a-also water, c-coffee, tea, wine, and b-beer.” They pointed out each dish as they spoke.

    Irina grimaced. “Do the cooks really expect me to eat all of this?? Although they did prepare an excellent meal-for once.”

    The men looked at each other; Irina seemed a bit frustrated and angry, and when she was angry, she was very dangerous. Actually, she was dangerous no matter what! They would have to speak carefully, without stuttering. They had heard from friends that if you showed signs of fear when Irina was angry, she could be lethal. “No, Miss Irina. They said that this was a feast so you could choose whatever you want to eat. We’ll carry your leftovers back to the kitchen and they’ll put it into plates for the guards to eat. That is, unless you want them to just throw it away, or if you want to save it for later, Miss Irina.”

    “Okay. That’s perfectly fine with me.” Irina sounded cheerful, and the men relaxed. “Tell me, what are your names?” she asked.

    “Nicholas and Michael, Miss Irina.”

    “Well, Nicholas and Michael, you’re fine young men. Much better than the previous bumbling idiots the cook sent to deliver my food. Tell me about yourselves…”

    The men relaxed and started chatting with Irina, who was acting pleasant and relaxed. The bird outside twittered and landed on a branch on a tree not far from Kotare.
    “Well, I really should start eating this before it gets cold. It was nice to talk to you two. Come up again!” Irina smiled.

    “Yes, Miss Irina. We will,” they answered.

    “Especially you, handsome! Come back soon!” Irina blew a kiss, grinning, almost playful. Smiling, she watched them go.

    The two men looked at each other, thinking, ‘Who did she mean?’ They grinned and bowed, backing out towards the stone doorway. One of them hit a small silver table with a delicate porcelain vase full of flowers that was by the doorway, knocking it over and shattering the vase. He gasped, and Irina saw her vase all over the floor, in a million glittering pieces. She stood up, her crimson dress billowing around her. Still smiling, she strode up to the broken pieces of the vase. Although her expression had not changed, there was ice in her eyes, but the two men didn’t seem to notice. Gesturing to the shards of porcelain on the floor, Irina spoke. “You will pay, of course. Good-bye.”

    “We’re very sorry about the vase, Miss Irina. Of course we’ll pay for it. Thanks for letting us go. We’re very grateful. Good-bye!“ They bowed deeply and turned to leave, relieved that Irina had let them go, but Irina held up her hand.

    “No,” she hissed, her voice icy cold. “You cannot leave.” Two guards sprang to attention, blocking the doorway with their iron spears.

    “B-But- you let us go! You s-said that w-w-we would p-pay and said g-goodbye!” The men stuttered and looked around uncomfortably.

    Rising to her full height, her eyes seemed to glow with fire as she glared at the men. “I never said such a thing!”

    “B-but y-y-you said t-that-“ The men shrank back and stopped speaking as Irina picked up her decorated bow and a beautiful but deadly arrow, with a razor sharp point and crimson feathers on the end.

    “Stand up and come here,” she snapped. Terrified, the men obeyed. Pulling Nicholas to her face, she growled, “When I said that you would pay, I meant you would pay with your lives. And goodbye meant what you think it means- goodbye forever.” She pushed him to the floor and asked, “Any questions? Any last words?” She fitted the arrow to the bow and aimed it.

    “T-that a-a-arrow isn’t for m-me, is i-it?” Michael stammered. “I d-didn’t do it, I s-swear!”

    “Of course not, Michael,” she purred. Michael relaxed. Then Irina twisted around, pulling a dagger from the folds of her cloak. She snarled, “The arrow isn’t for you. This is!” Before the shock could fully register on his face, Michael was on the floor, motionless and limp, with the dagger on his chest.

    “The arrow’s for you, Nicholas. Your turn!” But Nicholas was smarter than Michael. He had taken the arrow, but Irina was too quick. She grabbed a knife from the untouched tray of food, spun around, and slashed at him, cutting his throat and wrists. The arrow fell from his hand as he landed on the shards of porcelain with a muffled thump.

    Irina caught the bloody arrow, and examined it in disgust. She picked up her bow again, and was about to throw the arrow out the window when an unfortunate bird chirped happily. The arrow flew through the air and silenced the bird, killing not only the bird and its song, but the cheerful effect of the music. It seemed like the cheerful mood around Kotare was over.

    Irina turned away from the window, picking up her dress delicately as she stepped over the corpses of Nicholas and Michael. She pulled her dagger out of Michael’s body and wiped it on a silk handkerchief, then tucked it into her cloak. Then she motioned to the guards and strode away down the hallway, her scarlet dress flowing behind her, the color of fresh, wet, blood.