King Gumberto descended the marble staircase with a regal smile on his face.
Finally, after a ball that lasted for days, he was able to leave the Imperial Palace of Griffenheim behind. It was a marvel of architecture that was unfortunately inhabited by some of the vilest griffons the world knew.
Although the young emperor, Grover V, was tolerable enough, the same could not be said for the regency council that controlled the Empire. As far as Gumberto was concerned, they were a bunch of backstabbing cowards who did not care who was caught in the crossfire.
"Care to tell us what happened on your end?" a voice came from next to Gumberto. He looked over at his wife Garia, a red griffon with long and sharp features. Beams of moonlight peeking through the cloud cover danced on her face in a dazzling display.
"The usual," he said, shaking his head in an amused fashion. "The nobles made some outrageous demands, reminded us that we are their vassals, and so forth. One even implied the Empire should nationalize the southern industry."
The Kingdom of Wingbardy was technically a vassal of the Griffonian Empire, but as the most powerful kingdom in the southern half of the empire, it had a significant amount of autonomy, a fact that infuriated the northern nobles to no end.
"We would like to see them try," Garia laughed. It was a beautiful sound that made Gumberto's heart leap with joy. "Demands and demands. When will the empire understand Wingbardy is their equal? Griffonstone's disasters are nothing compared to the one called collective imperial stupidity."
Gumberto suppressed a smile. Their talk was a dangerous one. Even with their combined political influence backing them up, they were still talking about sedition while deep inside their rivals' territory.
"When indeed," he spoke. The pair had reached the bottom of the staircase and were now headed for the gate. Outside the courtyard, their open-air coach was waiting. A pair of guards saluted them as they passed through the gates.
It was night, and the streets were almost empty, except for a few late-night stragglers visible here and there. Most of them stuck to the circles of light provided by rows of street lamps.
The pair reached the coach and rose in. Gumberto was about to give orders to the griffons pulling the coach when he saw a figure moving in a dark alley, some twenty meters away.
The figure shouldn't have been anything notable, but its determined stride made alarm bells go off in Gumberto's head.
The figure stopped and raised its talon.
"Down!"
Gumberto shoved Garia to the floor of the coach as the first shot rang out. The bullet tore a hole in the carriage's wooden wall. A second shot followed. Burning pain exploded in his stomach. Gumberto yelled in agony, and two more bullets slammed into his chest before he had fallen to the floor.
Gumberto felt the distant sensation of Garia's talons on his face. It was alright. He would make it through, he reassured. When dear Garia didn't react, he tried again. Nothing. His beak didn't work. He feebly tried to reach for her face. It was alright. Everything was going to be alright.