It was all over in a flash. Her vision became blurry through all the tears, and by the time she could see clearly she was still in the process of bashing in the skull of the oldest and most renown mage in the Society with a candelabre. He was already dead when the guards rushed in. She saw the blood and retched. Then she saw the guards and remembered how they laughed at her screams and when her father was insulted. Without even thinking, she took a ceremonial sword from the wall - a heavy, unwieldy thing made of bronze - and in three quick moves there were two dead guards on the floor. By this time there were no more tears, only rage at her father's death, at her own incompetence, at the cruel world that pulled her away from her poetry and fables and thrust her into this society she never wanted any part of.
Resolved, calm, as if she was merely a spectator of her own actions, she proceeded to take her father's legendary sword and went out into the night, a petite 15-year old, barefoot, pale, and wearing nothing but her white but blood-stained sleeping gown.
That night she single-handedly assassinated every single one of the council members, including two mages, the city's Captain of the Guard, a prince, and two ambassadors from other two superpowers. Somewhere along the way the city caught on fire. Long before dawn the entire city was on its feet, telling horror stories of the deadly White Spirit Stained in Blood.