Just to clear things up: Ruby Evans = Misaki Ayuzawa because Takumi and the Prince don't want people to know that the most notorious assassin is just a twenty-year-old girl. And Megan is an OC of mine, because her character will be nothing like the characters in Maid Sama.

Misaki felt as if she'd barely closed her eyes when a hand jabbed her side. She groaned, wincing as the drapes were thrown back to welcome the morning sun.

"Wake up." Not surprisingly, it was Takumi.

She shimmied beneath the blankets, pulling them over her head, but he grabbed the covers and threw them to the floor. Her nightgown was wrapped around her thighs.

Misaki shivered.

"It's freezing," she moaned. It would have been nice if the Crown Prince had considered springing her from Salt Mines earlier so she could have some time to regain her strength; how long had he known about this competition, anyway?

"Get up." Takumi pulled the pillows from beneath her head. "Now you're wasting my time." If he noticed how much skin she was showing, he didn't react.

Grumbling, Misaki slithered to the edge of the bed, dangling a hand over the edge to touch the floor. She staggered and slouched into the dining room, where an enormous breakfast lay on the table. "Eat up. The competition starts in an hour."

She stabbed her fork into a piece of sausage.

From the doorway, Takumi asked, "Why, might I ask, are you so tired?"

"I was up until four reading," she said.

Suddenly not hungry, she pushed away her bowl of porridge. "I should get dressed, then. Just what sort of activities might I expect at the tournament today? So I can dress accordingly."

"I don't know—they don't give us the details until you arrive." The captain rose and drummed the pommel of his sword before calling to a servant as Misaki walked into her bedroom. Behind her, Takumi spoke to the servant girl. "Dress her in pants and a shirt—something loose, nothing frilly or revealing, and bring a cloak." The girl disappeared into the dressing room. Misaki followed after her, unceremoniously stripping down to her underclothes and enjoying it far too much when Takumi's cheeks reddened before he turned away.

Pulling her green velvet cloak tight around herself, she trailed after him.

The Captain of the Guard rushed through the castle, still freezing with the early-morning chill, and they soon entered the barracks.

Guards in various states of armor saluted them. An open doorway revealed a large mess hall, where many of the guards were just sitting down to breakfast.

Finally, Takumi stopped somewhere on the ground floor. The giant rectangular room they entered was the size of the Grand Ballroom. Lined with pillars that supported a mezzanine, the floor was checkered black-and-white tile, and the floor-to-ceiling glass doors that made up one entire wall were open, the delicate curtains blowing in the chilly breeze that drifted in from the garden.

Most of the twenty-three other Champions were already scattered throughout the room, sparring with what could only be their sponsors' trainers. Everyone was carefully monitored by guards. She lifted her chin and surveyed a rack of weapons.

Six guards appeared in the doorway behind them, joining the dozens already in the chamber, swords at the ready. "If you attempt anything foolish," Takumi said quietly,"They'll be here."

"I'm just a jewel thief, remember?" She approached the rack.

Swords, sword-breakers, axes, bows, pikes, hunting daggers, maces, spears, throwing knives, wooden staves . . . While she generally preferred the stealth of a dagger, she was familiar with every weapon here. She glanced around the sparring room and hid her grimace. So were most of the competitors, it seemed. As she inspected them, she caught a movement in the corner of her vision.

Cain entered the hall, flanked by two guards and a scarred, burly man who must have been his trainer. She squared her shoulders as Cain strode straight toward her, his thick lips parting in a grin.

He pointed with his sword to the weapons rack. "Pick one." His eyes shone with the challenge as she untied her cloak and tossed it behind her.

All the weapons were finely made, and glistened in the sunlight. Misaki eliminated her options one by one, seeing each weapon for what sort of damage she might do to the captain's face.

Her heart beat rapidly as she ran a finger across the blades and handles of each. She found herself torn between the hunting daggers and a lovely rapier with an ornate bell guard. She could cut out his heart from a safe distance with that.

The sword whined as she drew it from the stand and held it in her hands. It was a good blade—strong, smooth, light. They wouldn't let her have a butter knife on her table, but they gave her access to this?

Takumi tossed his cape on top of hers, his toned body flexing through the dark threads of his shirt. He drew his sword. "Ready!" He moved into defensive position, and Misaki looked at him.

Thankfully, none of the other Champions paid them any attention. "If you consider that sort of gracelessness equal to swordsmanship . . . what sort of fighting do you do, Captain Usui?" She put a spare hand over her heart and closed her eyes for emphasis.

With a smik, the Captain of the Guard lunged.

But she had been waiting for some time now, and her eyes flew open as soon as his boots scraped against the ground. With a turn of her arm she brought the sword into blocking position, her legs bracing for the impact as steel struck steel. The noise was strange, somehow more painful than receiving the blow, but Misaki thought little of it when he charged again and she met his weapon, parrying with ease. Her arms ached as they were shaken from their slumber, but she continued to deflect and dodge.

Swordplay was like dancing—certain steps must be followed or else it would fall apart.

Once she heard the beat, it all came rushing back. The other competitors faded away into shadows and sunlight.

"Good," he said through his teeth, blocking her thrust as she forced him to take a defensive stance. Her thighs burned. He was pretty good himself—better than good, actually. Not that she'd tell him that.

With a clang, the two swords met, and they pressed each other's blades. He was stronger, and she grunted at the force required to hold her sword against his. But, strong as he might be, he was also vey quick.

She withdrew and feinted, her feet jabbing and flexing on the floor with birdlike grace. She surged forward, her arm coming down again and again, twisting and turning, loving the smooth ache within her shoulder as the blade slammed against his. She was moving fast— fast like water down the side of a mountain.

He kept up, and she allowed him to advance before reclaiming the position. He tried to catch her unawares with a blow to the face, but her anger awoke as her elbow snapped up and deflected, slamming into his fist and forcing it down.

"Something to remember when fighting me, Ayuzawa," he said. The sun caught in his green eyes.

"Hmm?" she grunted, lunging to deflect his newest attack.

"I don't lose." He grinned at her, and before she could comprehend the words, something cut into her feet and—

She had the sickening feeling of falling.

She gasped as her spine collided with marble, the blade flying from her hand.

Takumi pointed his blade at her heart. "I win," he breathed.

She pushed herself onto her elbows. "You had to resort to tripping me. That's hardly winning at all."

"I'm not the one with the sword at my heart."

The sound of clashing weapons and labored breathing filled the air. She flicked her eyes to the other Champions, who were all in the middle of sparring.

"You have the skills," Takumi said, "but some of your moves are still undisciplined."

She glared up into Takumi's face. "That's never stopped me from killing before," she said.

Takumi chuckled at her agitation and pointed his sword at the rack, allowing her to get to her feet. "Pick another—something different. Make it interesting, too. Something that will make me sweat."

"You'll be sweating when I skin you alive," she muttered, picking up the rapier.

"That's the spirit."

She practically threw the rapier into place, and drew the hunting knives without hesitation.

My dear old friends.

A wicked smile spread across her face.

BELIEVE ME THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS WILL BE AWESOME!