The Tsarina is dead. Long live the (minor) Tsar.

[Naya Angus-Moonoak]

It all happened unbelievably quickly. Naya was enjoying her long - too long perhaps - private retreat at Hartington Hold. She loved the beautiful gardens her mother had transformed from grass grounds to lands full of colour and flowers. For years now she had distanced herself from the Palace of the Bay and all it reminded her of - her parents, her brother, the nasty business of diplomacy and all the cruelty, as well as a few genuine good moments, that she associated with it. So unaware and disinterested was she of the happenings across her Tsardom and across Natopia that her private secretary had even stopped briefing her on what was going on since before Sonnuber 1664.

But as she was enjoying the gardens, totally abducted by yet another meaningful - or meaningless, she couldn't tell - book, that the Tsarina did not even hear the sounds of pistols and guns, the swords, screams of pain and death. She only noticed her surroundings when the armed man in front of her - wearing the Klaasiyan Ellite Force uniform - took his knife out and stepped towards her.

"No. Please NO" she screamed as the man approached. Naya got up quickly and tried to run away from the man, but only after a few steps he reached her. Grabbing her by the hair with one arm, he struct the long knife in her heart. The Tsarina felt immense of pain and cold. She thought the whole world had become evil, all of Klaasiya was frozen keep like an iceberg. The colourful gardens turned dark like a graveyard of fallen bodies. After a few seconds, the Tsarina's motionless head was hanging down from the man's grip. He pulled her like a shot pig back to Hartington Hold. She would never awaken again.