Rachel brought me some clothes, and the chainmail part of my mythril armor. Her new bag of holding made carrying that stuff pretty easy. I ducked behind the Blue Falcon to get dressed, then walked back out.

The chainmail shirt was easy to wear, and shimmered a silvery blue in the lamplight.

It was only a little past one in the morning. So we still had some energy. Bernie snagged some tea from a serving tray. Probably an attendant on their way to a noble studying in the library late. Poor guy would have to double back to make more, but we needed to stay sharp.

“So,” Rachel started to say, once we were all caffeinated, “do we think that the elves are part of the poisoning plot, or are they executing some design of their own?”

Bernie’s eyes narrowed, her fingers tenting, as she did some thinking, then she said, “I think Aquilan may be out on his own. I talked to the head of the elven delegation. He’s got family in the Northern Kingswood, where the fighting is it’s worst. I don’t think he’d risk losing a treaty that would secure them help.”

“What about the King?” I asked. “We know anything about the Elf King? Does he want peace?”

Bernie just shrugged. Rachel frowned.

“Well,” I said. “What about our other clues?”

“So,” Bernie started, “here is what I got: Someone needed to distill the poison, slip it into the wine, then get it into the parlor where Randilion and the King were talking. Three other people were in the room with them at the time, the Queen, and two Actors running a scene. It’s not determined if the poison was applied in the room, or well beforehand.”

“Actors? What actors?” Rachel asked.

“Amalia, who plays Princess Leela in the upcoming Episode IX, and Benoit, who plays Hank Solo.”

“Wait,” I butt in, “same guy we just saw?”

“Yes, I don’t see—”

“What did they say under interrogation?” Rachel asked.

“Amalia is about to retire, but has stayed on as a favor to the King,” Bernie said. “And Benoit has been a friend of the King for years. They were there to run a Romantic confession scene for Caleb and Queen Cerelia. ”

“How many years have they been friends?” Rachel asked.

“He was part of Uchechi’s crew, so for three, four years. He was a cook. And he sings.”

“Really?” I asked.

“I don’t think he has magic like you,” Bernie said, “he’s just a good singer.”

An idea was starting to form at the back of my mind.

“What about the second poisoning?” Rachel asked.

“That’s a more difficult one. Princess Harmony was watching a play in the Royal Box with her friends.”

“Strife?”

“No, a comedy, Much Ado About a Pumpkin.”

“Huh.”

“Wait,” Rachel butt in, “what about Cal?”

“You think he could be involved?” I asked. “Try to get back at the father that never loved him?”

“I think Cal has only ever kept one secret his entire life,” Bernadette said, “and not even that well. He calls himself ‘Cal.’”

“Right.”

“Also,” she continued, “he wasn’t here for the first poisoning.”

“But Benoit could have been there for both,” I said.

“Huh,” Bernie said, placing a finger to her lips, “I can’t pin down an alibi for the second poisoning. But he was there for the first, and I know he didn’t have a part in Pumpkin.”

“What about Princess Mia?” I asked. I was sure that I was close to figuring out the key to this puzzle.

“She could have been in the Royal Box. But nothing you’ve told me about her makes sense,” Bernie said.

“Yeah?”

“Nobody in the castle has said a peep about her hobbies. And the fact that she has a slate?”

“Did she make it?” I asked.

“We can’t be sure.”

My mind went back to that text that had flashed across the screen of her slate. Nerfherder. That was a Strife Among the Stars reference, I’m sure. Hank Solo? What else had the text said? I was sure it was something about ‘keeping her busy.’ Could it be Bernie?

“Who do you think is Nerfherder?” I asked. “You think it’s Uchechi?”

“Hank Solo is an elf. Obviously when Benoit plays him, he has to use ears but… I don’t think she sees her husband as a scruffy hero type. Uchechi is really just a big softy. Even as a pirate, he ruled through fairness and profitability, more than fear.”

“How well do you know Benoit?” I asked.

“Pretty well,” Bernadette said. “He’s my main contact for the theater scene.”

“If you wanted to throw someone, a man, off your trail, and you knew he was going to investigate you, would you make yourself more or less interesting to them?”

“What are you getting at?”

“Do you think you’re the only person with the ‘Beguiling Allure' skill?”

“Shit,” Bernadette said, eyes widening in anger.

“I’m thinking back to that slate I saw,” I continued, “and I think it said something about ‘keeping her busy.’ Could Benoit have been feeding you exactly what you wanted to hear, but not what you needed to know?”

“Well, damn, maybe. I’d want evidence first.”

“That would mean Princess Mia would be behind all this,” Rachel said. “And I don’t get what her motive would be.”

“Me either,” I said.

I liked her. I didn’t want her to be a killer, but I also had to admit that everything we had was pointing back to her.

There was silence as we all thought on that.

“What do we know about Princess Mia?” I asked.

“Second born of Caleb, eldest daughter,” Rachel said, rattling off facts. “21 years old. Brilliant and beautiful, even among the elves, who consider her a half elf. Just delivered Caleb’s first grandkid. Married a foreigner, and pirate. Was trained by her mother in court politics. Exceles in horseback riding, and fencing. Apparently a master alchemist. Has a slate, somehow. Why she could be involved in any of this…”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Xander is first in line for the throne, right? Then Mia?” I asked.

“Human kingdoms are patrilineal,” Rachel said, “unlike the elves. If Caleb wanted to change things he could have, but since his first born was a man, he didn’t need to.”

“So if Xander died, next in line would be Pelas?” I asked.

“Yes,” Rachel said.

This didn’t help or hurt our suspicions of Mia. If she wanted to be queen, she’d have to murder both of her brothers, not just her brother’s wife. This wasn’t making any sense.

“Of course. I don’t see how that plays into poisoning Randy and Harmony,” Bernie said.

“What do we know about Randy?” I asked.

“Another singer,” Bernie said. “But more of a court chronicler, and co-writer for Strife. Old friend of Caleb’s. A peace advocate. His death is part of the reason why we don’t have an established treaty with the Kingswood yet. The nobility suspects the elves, and with Randy dead, the war contingent outnumbers the peace side.”

“Who does that benefit?” I asked.

“The Evil Queen, for one,” Rachel answered.

We all thought for a moment.

I pulled out my slate and shot off a text. It was a big swing, but I needed to do something.

Breznik: Are you talking to Princess Mia?

I got an answer right away.

Innara: would it mean anything if I was?

Innara: did you get my gift?

“Who are you texting?” Rachel asked.

“Sofia,” I said.

Bernadette crossed her arms.

Breznik: yeah I got it. Thank you. Very generous

Breznik: I mean, yeah, I think Caleb would imagine it was a betrayal

Innara: you’re talking to me. Would Caleb think you betrayed him?

Innara: I would never dictate who you should or shouldn’t talk to. Just remember that

I put my slate away.

“What did she say?” Rachel asked. Bernadette leaned forward.

“Uh, she was frustratingly vague, but didn’t deny talking to the Princess.”

“So,” Bernie said, “that means they either were talking, or she wants us to think they’re talking.”

“Could be she's just trying to sow some chaos,” Rachel said.

“I don’t know,” I countered, “I think the reason she’s so vague is because she doesn’t want to lie. I don’t think she’s lied to us.”

“Telling the truth in a deceitful way, is the same as lying,” Bernie added. “The point is to hide something. So what is she hiding?”

Silence simmered, along with the soft glow of the lamps. Rachel folded her arms behind her and stretched her back muscles. Bernadette rested her chin on her fist. I thumbed the pommel of my sword, and tried not to tap my foot.

“I think it’s Benoit,” I said. “At any rate, we need to confront him. If he has a slate on his person or in his room, then that’ll prove he was in contact with someone he shouldn’t be. Also, maybe we can read what he’s said to Mia. Could be she’s the mastermind, or maybe she’s just been duped into helping him.”

Bernadette gave me a skeptical look.

“That’s a good idea,” Rachel said. “Where would he hide it?”

“You know him best,” I directed to Bernie, “is he stupid enough to just keep it lying around?”

“I mean,” she replied, “I didn’t think he was clever enough to trick me. So, maybe?”

“Where does he stay?” Rachel asked.

“He’s couch surfing right now. So, he could be anywhere,” then she added, “we saw him kissing Arturo. Things move fast with the theater crowd, but not that fast. I’d bet on him staying with them.”

“First — does he keep his things here?”

“We keep people’s effects in a chest when they’re in costume.”

“He was in costume,” I mentioned.

“Where?” Rachel asked.

Bernadette showed us to a side room piled with costumes, the place we’d told him to go just hours before. He’d obviously moved on. In the corner was a locked chest. Bernie said the stage manager had the key, then produced a lockpick and opened it handily.

Inside were an assortment of knives, makeup, and a satchel containing sundry items such coins, and dried fruit. No slate. I should have noticed that the flask we found here was a powder horn, not for alcohol, but we were moving fast.

“Well,” I said. “Nothing here. Let’s go find him.”

I looked at the others, and saw no complaint. We left.

“How do we approach this?” I asked, as we walked down the hall. “Do we grab guards on the way?”

“I say we try to do this ourselves,” Bernie said.

We all agreed.

So, I haven’t had the opportunity to talk much about how Caer Vortigern worked. It was much more like a small town than a traditional castle. Traditional castles had a central bailey and as many towers as there were corners in the walls. Caleb’s castle had three massive free standing towers with a dozen rooms each, alongside the one’s you would expect at the corners of the walls.

It was Fantasy Castle big. And all of that space was used.

Long ago, the storage spaces in lofts, and attics of the towers had been transformed into cozy living spaces. Depending on the seniority of the staff they may have their own rooms. This meant that instead of servants being forced to sleep where they worked, in the kitchens or outside the doors of their masters, that they had space for their own quarters, or shared quarters.

One such person was Arturo’s father, who had a room at the top of the Eastern Tower.

It was well past two in the morning when we exited the stairs to the Easter Tower Lofts. At the end of the stairs was a hall with four doors. Each door was a distinguished servant’s living quarters, big enough for a small family.

Bernadette listened behind first one, then a second one before she gave us the nod. Rachel kicked the door open.

The room was quaint, just big enough for three beds, a vanity, and a couple chests. Benoit was at the vanity. Arturo was in bed. Beyond the window, a long pennant fluttered in the wind.

Benoit stood, his eyes flicked across us. He then pulled a strange four barreled pistol from his waist, and shot Arturo where he lay.

Several things happened all at once. My hands flew to my waist, and I drew my sword. Benoit shot Rachel through the shoulder. Bernie threw a dagger.

Benoit turned to the side, and the dagger sailed past him.

I’d never seen Bernie miss.

The gun reported again, and Rachel fell to a knee. Bernie threw another dagger, and this time he caught it. I lunged with my sword, and he parried it with Bernie’s dagger.

I cursed. He turned and leapt out the window, grabbing onto the pennant, and swinging out of view. Bernie ran after him, and I was just able to get out an Inspiring Words, before she vaulted over the side of the balcony, and away.

The bullet was a through-and-through at the meat of Rachel’s armpit. I grabbed her shoulder, and gave her a heal light wounds. My eyes flicked over to the bed Arturo lay in. He was not moving.

“I think he’s dead,” I said.

“No shit!”

“Maybe I can cut him off,” I said, referring to Benoit, “at the West Wing.”

I didn’t know he was going for Princess Mia, but It was my best guess at the moment.

“Then go!” she responded. She then let out a primal scream, and disappeared into a puff of technocolor stardust.

I turned on my heel, and ran into the hall, and down the steps.

How had this all gone wrong? What didn’t we know? Arturo must have had vital information. What did Princess Mia know? Was he going after her to silence her, or to plan their next step together?

I didn’t have much time, or else I would have texted the DM. This was all too important not to use him as a resource. But to stop, or slow running, even for a second, may let Benoit get to her sooner, and I couldn’t have that.

Nearly the whole castle was asleep, so I had empty halls to run through. But so did Benoit. As soon as I made it to the courtyard, I looked up. I saw a man leap from one balcony to the next, and run inside, a tiny dark shape running after him. That was the West Wing. I was right.

I used an Adrenaline Rush, and pumped my legs as hard as I could, desperate to get there before him.

Once I reached the hallway outside Princess’s Mia room, I noticed something was wrong immediately. The stool outside her room was empty. Why was it empty? Where was her guard?

I burst through the door. Princess Mia sat in a chair, a horrified look on her face, and a finger pointed at the window.

I put my body between her and the window, immediately.

“Where is he?” I asked.

I didn’t see him. Was I too late? Was he hiding in the room? What had frightened her?

A small, strong arm snaked itself across my chest. Before I had much of a chance to react, another hand pressed a handkerchief to my face, just covering my nose and mouth.

Because I was breathing so hard, it took a matter of seconds for the chemical to do it’s job. I smelled a sweet stringent smell, and immediately became dizzy. I tried to fight her off, but it was too late, I had no strength.

Princess Mia, for that was surely who had attacked me from behind, was not a large woman. I could have fought her off, easily. Had I just thought to be suspicious. Had I just thought not to turn my back to her.

At least I now knew for sure that she was one of the conspirators.

But that didn’t help me much when I fell unconscious.

The last thing I heard as she lowered me to the ground was, “Saints! You’re heavier than you look. I’ll probably need another dose.”