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Darkseeker
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Asher bowed his head slightly as he was dismissed, offering no resistance to the Captain’s curt gesture nor the dismissive tone that accompanied it. He turned on his heel and exited the chamber with the calm efficiency of a soldier already compartmentalizing. Behind his neutral expression, his mind was anything but quiet. He had survived the interview, and if everything went to plan, he would be chosen. It was a step closer to the target, and that should have satisfied him. And yet, as he walked the long stone hallway back toward the outer barracks, his thoughts were tangled. The girl -- no, the woman -- was more than he had expected. In all his planning, in all the fragmented intelligence he had gathered prior to arrival, Xiomara had seemed like a dull and forgettable mark. A reclusive, strange, academic royal, useful to her enemies only in her proximity to the throne. But she had wit. Steel, too, behind the odd remarks and thin mask of formality. Something in her eyes refused to dull, even in grief and stress. He could respect that. Perhaps it was the beginnings of a problem. Nox’s shift passed without event. He stood his ground, moved when required, and engaged in the occasional nod or salute when protocol demanded it. Nothing remarkable. It was how he preferred it. Every step now was about minimizing attention, building trust, and watching the intricate web around his target. If he succeeded in learning who supported her and who did not, it might make his ultimate task easier. Or more complicated. Lord Andreus Azrimodus. The name was spoken often here, far too carelessly for Nox’s liking. The Princess had mentioned him the previous night, not knowing the depth of his role in Nox’s life. Of course, Asher Regess would only admit to knowing of the Lord’s business in Alta -- the agricultural trade, the charming estate, the seemingly endless strings of contacts throughout the realm. Nox, however, knew him intimately. Every temper, every manipulation, every habit. Every threat dressed in honey. Andreus had raised him from the ashes of his childhood with blood and steel. Made him a blade with a name. The man had never once failed to remind him who owned that blade. And yet— Why hasn’t he married closer into the family? Nox had pondered that on patrol. The Azrimodus name, distant though it was, offered legitimate claim to the throne -- a tenuous one, but real enough to bear weight in courtly circles. The Princess had siblings. She was not first in line, even if she was the official successor. So why, after all this time, had Andreus not arranged himself deeper into the royal family through marriage? It would’ve been cleaner. Simpler. But Andreus never picked the clean way forward. He chose the long game. Always. He wouldn't question orders out loud, but inside, his calculations were multiplying. As he walked his final lap and checked in with the gate shift, a boy no older than thirteen intercepted him in the lower courtyard, breathless and clutching a parchment sealed with the wax of the royal guard. “Message for Sir Regess,” the boy announced. Nox took it, murmured thanks, and opened the letter as soon as the boy disappeared. Sir Regess, You have been selected by Her Highness Princess Xiomara to serve among her newly appointed personal guard. Effective immediately, you are to prepare your belongings for relocation to the eastern tower chambers adjacent to the Princess’s residence. This position demands readiness at all hours. Your proximity is vital to Her Highness’s safety. You will accompany her during transitions between wings, public appearances, and any unscheduled excursions. A schedule and assignment rotation will be delivered to your new chamber upon your arrival. The expectation is that you will be stationed and settled in your new quarters by sundown. — Captain Tucker
Royal Guard Commander Nox folded the letter, slipping it into his belt. He made no outward reaction, but a small pulse beat in his jaw. Proximity. That changed things. He was being moved closer, into the very heart of the castle’s vulnerabilities, and into Xiomara's, which meant Andreus would make his move soon. This wasn’t coincidence, he had to remind himself, as he felt a strange pang of disappointment; it was maneuvering. Andreus had pulled the strings to ensure he’d be selected. Xiomara's interest was a bonus, one Andreus would surely exploit. He returned to the barracks, packed swiftly and efficiently -- just the necessary items: his uniform, a change of clothing, a whetstone, a hidden compartment sewn into his satchel for poisons and tools, and a worn book with loose pages he'd been seen reading to keep the act polished. It was on the Perseids, to boot. As he rolled his cloak and strapped it tight, he looked out the narrow slit of the barracks window toward the east tower. He would be so close to her now, close enough to end it swiftly, without alarms. Or he would wait, gather more, and learn who else would move if she were removed. Assess whether Andreus's endgame was truly the throne; at this point, it would not have surprised him to find that Lord Azrimodus was the god of war and chaos -- inciting civil wars for the hell of it seemed right up his alley. Even in all the years Nox had known the man, he still could not decipher what was up the other's sleeves. One thing he had learned early under Andreus’s tutelage: You do not move until you know everyone’s hand. |
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Lightbringer
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She hadn't seen Asher much up close since he had gotten the position. She had a large guard, and he was kept busy with other duties and training or as Captain Tucker liked to call it, continuing education. Her parents were dismayed at her logic for hiring Avery, but she liked him in more ways than she had justified out loud to her parents. She thought perhaps they had been pacified because she had not rejected all of their favored candidates; at least she hadn't been petty. However, they did not trust that she had a real reason to prefer Avery over Aiden. It was evening of another long day of learning. Her governors and governnesses had taken to teaching her in the supposed safety of her room instead of the library. Xiomara had decided to take a sabbatical from the library for her own safety, but she was quickly beginning to go through the first stages of withdrawal. Asher's interest in the Perseids had stuck with Xiomara, especially since they were so close to occuring. The Perseids were supposed to be streaking across the sky at any moment. The sky was streaked with pinks and purples and darkening into royal blue as the sun slowly set. Asher was on guard duty along with three other guards who had been Xiomara's guards longer. Two of them were on the older side of guards while one was probably near Asher's age. They had been trying not to pair newer guards together to help bring them up to speed quicker and to keep the princess more secure with more experienced guards. Xiomara was bustling around her bed chamber trying to decide which pillows would be the most comfortable for lying on when she went up to the castle parapet. She grabbed her blanket and wrapped it around two flat seat cushions, making a pack which she slung over her back. She almost stuffed a book in there but realized it was pointless as she would not be able to read it in the dark night lighting. She exited her chamber and found her guards waiting for her. Since they were senior guards, they were used to the princess' oddities and their expressions didn't change much when they saw her laden down. She started to stride toward the parapet. Sometimes she led the way when she had not given them directions. This time, she didn't give the destination until she came upon the door to the stairwell onto the parapet. Letting go of her pack with one hand, she gestured toward the door. "Someone want to make sure that no assassins are on the roof." She felt cowardly and selfish for having them go first, but also she didn't need to be stupid these days, and that was what they had guards for. Was it showing too much weakness that she was a bit concerned it was not safe up here? "Please light the way, but also I will want the light put out, so that I can watch the stars as clearly as possible." She followed after and walked along the parapet until she found the area where castle turrets blocked out the sky the least. She started arranging her cushions and wrapped the blanket around herself in preparation. Her guards took up the logical positions; two on both sides of her. She was lightly propped up by the wall. She used the cushions for back support, keeping her head off the ground, and a cushion for her posterior. Her legs were too long for the cushion and were on the ground. "Anyone know any star mythologies?" she asked. The temperature was gradually getting cooler, so she was glad for the blanket, especially since the temperature of the stones seeped into her. "I have heard some people think stars are the souls of those who have gone before us, but I'm not sure why they would fall." There were falling stars streaking across the sky every so often. They were slow enough to begin to make a wish. She heard a rattling sound from the roof the the tower near the parapet. She sat upright trying to see into the darkness when she saw a blur of motion and a clatter as whatever it was landed right beside her. She shrieked and scrunched herself into a ball away from it. She looked the dust rising from the shattered pile and realized someone had tried to slide a pile of baked clay roof tiles onto her head. She started looking upward once more and thought she could see movement on top of the roof. How had they gotten there? "I don't think it is safe out here," she softly whispered before breaking into a fit of coughing. She didn't want to leave her common belongings here such as her blanket and cushions even though she knew nothing would happen to them. As long as she wasn't murdered on them or her guards, she knew no one else cared about her belongings but herself. She didn't like leaving something where it should not be. Would the guards move her inside away from falling objects on her head or would they not because they didn't know if it was safe on the other side of the door? But, if they didn't move her, this area could become more unsafe. "How are these people getting in here?" she muttered to herself, "And why would they choose up there?" she looked up at the roof. |
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Darkseeker
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Asher stood nearby in the soft darkening blue of twilight, watching the sky ripple with streaks of silver as the Perseids began their slow dance. The temperature had begun its descent with the sun, but he remained unbothered. Even the chill couldn't cut through the sharp awareness that coiled beneath his skin whenever he stood near the Princess. There were other guards posted on either side of her, but Nox felt that if something were to go wrong, it would fall to him. It always did. Perhaps the thought was arrogant and too self-assured, but it was one borne of experience nonetheless. When Xiomara asked about star myths, her voice softened by both curiosity and the veil of night, he turned his head slightly toward her. "I’ve heard more than one version," he offered. “Some say the stars are the souls of all living things who have not yet found bodies to inhabit. They fall when they are born into the world. Each falling star is a soul making its way into a child somewhere." He glanced upward toward the sky. The wind played softly at his hair, and the stars blinked and spun down from above. “I’ve also heard that the stars are a countdown,” he continued. “That their number is finite. Each one marks a year, and when the last star falls from the sky, the world will end. Not so fun to make wishes that way, though." He heard a faint scrape. Nox's head tilted sharply, and his entire body stilled. There was a shuffle overhead, quick and frantic. He registered it a heartbeat before the sound of cracking tile hit his ears. He looked up in time to see movement, something slipping across the slope of the tower roof. Then came the avalanche of baked clay and dust. A crash. A shriek. Xiomara’s sudden movement as she tucked herself away from the danger, clever and swift. She was safe, but not because of him. He had failed to act in time. He should have heard the movement sooner. He should have seen the silhouette before the tiles broke loose. The fact that she had moved before he had could not be forgiven. “Damn it,” he snarled. All pretense fell away. He wasn’t Asher Regess in that moment; he was Nox, the blade in the dark, the hound who only needed one scent to chase prey to the ends of the earth. The other guards had drawn weapons, some shielding the princess, others moving toward the source of the attack. Nox was already halfway up the side of the parapet wall, climbing with the ease of someone born to scale stone. His fingers were quick and quiet, the dagger drawn before he’d even reached the edge. He hauled himself up onto the tower roof in one smooth motion. The stars lit only a silhouette ahead of him, scrambling to escape and almost succeeding. Nox didn’t hesitate. Purely out of spite for having caught him off guard, his hand snapped forward, and the knife flew from his fingers with trained precision. He squinted to account for the curve of the roof and the blur of motion. It hit, thank goodness. The figure cried out, a brief, cut-off shriek, and then tumbled violently over the edge, arms flailing, before disappearing from view. Nox didn’t follow immediately. He crouched near the point of impact, letting his eyes adjust and his mind sort every detail: no ladder, no rope, no obvious path of approach. He stored that fact away and slid down the roof’s back slope to catch up with the body. By the time he reached the courtyard, a few guards were already circling the crumpled figure. “Out of my way,” Nox snapped, voice hard and wholly unfamiliar from the tone he used with court officials. They obeyed without question. He crouched near the corpse and was somewhat dismayed to find a boy. A soot-streaked, scrawny youth, probably in his late teens. His tunic was frayed. His hands were rough and covered in charcoal and ash; all the signs pointed toward a castle chimney sweep, which would explain how he'd gotten onto the roof without being noticed along the wall. Nox checked for a pulse and found nothing. He searched the body without hesitation. A pouch of gold fell into his hand. He opened it and let the coins spill across his palm. “Far too much for a sweep,” he muttered. Aside from the bag, there was no seal, no note. Just gold. Anonymity made sharp. He grabbed the lantern from one of the guards and held it over the body’s face. The young man's dead eyes stared up at him, wide and clouded, as though he had died knowing he’d been nothing more than a pawn. Nox scoffed and pulled his dagger from the young man's back. He wiped the blade clean on the tunic and stood, cracking his knuckles as his thoughts began to spin faster than the wind above. Oh, right. He was supposed to be guarding a princess-- whoops. He returned to the tower wall and scaled it again, this time not rushing, but not dawdling either. When he arrived back on the parapet, he wore the face of Asher once more. He approached the princess, meeting her eyes with that same soft tension that hovered behind his words. “It was a chimney sweep. I found gold on him, too -- here.” He paused to hand the bag to Xiomara before continuing. “I recommend you send for a list of who was supposed to be in this area tonight, Your Highness. Check whether any servants or workers were sent away early, or failed to report in. There is no reason for a chimney sweep to be working in the pitch black, and someone should have stopped him -- or at least seen him. I didn't run into a soul on the way back here.” He glanced up at the stars again. Another meteor streaked across the dark canvas, and he took the opportunity to release a sigh, and with it the remnants of Nox's fury. Of course everyone else had to make this job more complicated. |
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Lightbringer
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She thought her guards might have some old wives tales about the stars, and she was not surprised when Asher volunteered some myths. “For some reason, I find that a little creepy. There are bodiless beings out there waiting to get a body,” she shivered. “Besides, I don’t see a shooting star every time a child is born,” she reasoned. In response to the second myth, she commented, “Everything has a cost. There is a poetry in getting a wish while time ticks closer to the world’s doom. There are enough stars that if that is true, we still don’t know when the end shall come.” She smiled at him quietly, thanking him for participating in the conversation. Everyone’s reaction was belated. She was lucky the tiles had missed her because she had not moved out of the way much. After her squeal, she heard the clamor of swords being drawn, and the guards moved into defensive positions she rather assumed too little too late. Before she could give suggested orders, Asher dashed off and scaled the wall to the roof. That certainly wasn’t something they taught guards to do. By the time she had gotten to her feet and tried to dust her skirt, he was on the roof. She quickly lost sight of what was happening up there. She gasped, covering her mouth, when she heard a shriek as she watched a body topple off the roof. The scream didn’t sound like Asher, but was that his body plummeting down? Before she could call out to him, he was in motion again going down the wall to where the body lay in the courtyard. She hesitantly walked over to peek over the parapet and observe the crowd that was gathering. She noted Asher kneeling beside a scrawny body before he began to climb back up to her. She backed away from the wall so he had space to climb over. She waited silently while he reported his findings. She hefted the bag getting an idea of how much gold the young chimney sweep had been paid. “I think trying to kill me should be worth more,” she sniffed. She darted a glance up to the skies for one last look at the shooting stars before she started to head for the door. “Simon, please grab my belongings and carry this,” she passed the gold to him. “Take my stuff and you can either drop it on the floor in my room or hand it off to the first servant you see and have them do it. Please take the gold to Sir Tucker and get him on the case right away. If anyone comes across servants, send them my way so I have messengers.” She nodded to Asher, finding his quick thinking good advice. “We are going to go find the head of the servants, and they can speak to us. Asher, I’m trusting you when you said that you would keep me safe. I want you two guards to return once you have accomplished your errand and perhaps get more guards added to my detail especially at night it would seem.” She sent a second guard to go find her parents, so she was down to two once more. “Asher, who all was down in the courtyard? Did you recognize the chimney sweep?” To herself she muttered, “Who is trying to kill me? Is it the same person botching it or is it someone new?” She headed to the servant’s quarters with her two companions. She let Asher lead the way and the other one took the rear. She gestured for Asher to knock on the door. This should be the head servant’s room. “I want him to be brought back to Sir Tucker’s office. I think that will be a better and more private and secure location to hold an interrogation,” she softly instructed. She realized she had not given instructions on where her guards were to find her. They could be wandering all around the castle hoping to reunite. Once they had the head of the servants they made their way to Sir Tucker’s office. Her parents were not there yet, but Sir Tucker was along with the one she had sent to find him. “Princess, someone has just attempted to kill you once more,” Sir Tucker groaned running a hand through his hair, “You should have called for more of your guards not sent them on wild goose chases.” “I did with one of them. They should be coming,” she protested. “I thought moving faster would be of more use at the moment. I want there to be a true crack down on this. I should not have to fear for my life in my own home. I want there to be deep background checks of everyone!” she ranted getting louder. “And you will do the background checks personally and find some trustworthy guards after they’ve been checked to help you.” She was starting to feel stressed because she was getting tired and wanted to have a peaceful night's rest. The search was too disorganized and she didn’t know where anyone was or who to trust. She sank down in an empty chair. She wanted the adults to handle it, but she also realized that she needed to be an adult. "Um..Sir Tucker. Would you mind figuring out what the chimney sweep was up to and how he got here? Here is the head of the servants." She waved for Asher to supply his information about what he had observed. |
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Lightbringer
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She thought her guards might have some old wives tales about the stars, and she was not surprised when Asher volunteered some myths. “For some reason, I find that a little creepy. There are bodiless beings out there waiting to get a body,” she shivered. “Besides, I don’t see a shooting star every time a child is born,” she reasoned. In response to the second myth, she commented, “Everything has a cost. There is a poetry in getting a wish while time ticks closer to the world’s doom. There are enough stars that if that is true, we still don’t know when the end shall come.” She smiled at him quietly, thanking him for participating in the conversation. Everyone’s reaction was belated. She was lucky the tiles had missed her because she had not moved out of the way much. After her squeal, she heard the clamor of swords being drawn, and the guards moved into defensive positions she rather assumed too little too late. Before she could give suggested orders, Asher dashed off and scaled the wall to the roof. That certainly wasn’t something they taught guards to do. By the time she had gotten to her feet and tried to dust her skirt, he was on the roof. She quickly lost sight of what was happening up there. She gasped, covering her mouth, when she heard a shriek as she watched a body topple off the roof. The scream didn’t sound like Asher, but was that his body plummeting down? Before she could call out to him, he was in motion again going down the wall to where the body lay in the courtyard. She hesitantly walked over to peek over the parapet and observe the crowd that was gathering. She noted Asher kneeling beside a scrawny body before he began to climb back up to her. She backed away from the wall so he had space to climb over. She waited silently while he reported his findings. She hefted the bag getting an idea of how much gold the young chimney sweep had been paid. “I think trying to kill me should be worth more,” she sniffed. She darted a glance up to the skies for one last look at the shooting stars before she started to head for the door. “Simon, please grab my belongings and carry this,” she passed the gold to him. “Take my stuff and you can either drop it on the floor in my room or hand it off to the first servant you see and have them do it. Please take the gold to Sir Tucker and get him on the case right away. If anyone comes across servants, send them my way so I have messengers.” She nodded to Asher, finding his quick thinking good advice. “We are going to go find the head of the servants, and they can speak to us. Asher, I’m trusting you when you said that you would keep me safe. I want you two guards to return once you have accomplished your errand and perhaps get more guards added to my detail especially at night it would seem.” She sent a second guard to go find her parents, so she was down to two once more. “Asher, who all was down in the courtyard? Did you recognize the chimney sweep?” To herself she muttered, “Who is trying to kill me? Is it the same person botching it or is it someone new?” She headed to the servant’s quarters with her two companions. She let Asher lead the way and the other one took the rear. She gestured for Asher to knock on the door. This should be the head servant’s room. “I want him to be brought back to Sir Tucker’s office. I think that will be a better and more private and secure location to hold an interrogation,” she softly instructed. She realized she had not given instructions on where her guards were to find her. They could be wandering all around the castle hoping to reunite. Once they had the head of the servants they made their way to Sir Tucker’s office. Her parents were not there yet, but Sir Tucker was along with the one she had sent to find him. “Princess, someone has just attempted to kill you once more,” Sir Tucker groaned running a hand through his hair, “You should have called for more of your guards not sent them on wild goose chases.” “I did with one of them. They should be coming,” she protested. “I thought moving faster would be of more use at the moment. I want there to be a true crack down on this. I should not have to fear for my life in my own home. I want there to be deep background checks of everyone!” she ranted getting louder. “And you will do the background checks personally and find some trustworthy guards after they’ve been checked to help you.” She was starting to feel stressed because she was getting tired and wanted to have a peaceful night's rest. The search was too disorganized and she didn’t know where anyone was or who to trust. She sank down in an empty chair. She wanted the adults to handle it, but she also realized that she needed to be an adult. "Um..Sir Tucker. Would you mind figuring out what the chimney sweep was up to and how he got here? Here is the head of the servants." She waved for Asher to supply his information about what he had observed. |
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Darkseeker
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Asher -- or, rather, Nox -- stepped forward as the princess gestured, his expression composed and the glint in his pale eyes sharp as ever. If anyone noticed the subtle shift in the way he carried himself, slightly more forward and slightly less deferential, it would’ve been easy to blame it on the evening’s events. In truth, he was settling back into the skin that fit him best: not the obedient guard, but the observer, the predator, the one who hunted the threats before they struck. He offered a short bow of acknowledgment before speaking, his voice steady and quiet but firm enough to carry through the chamber. “Three guards arrived in the courtyard shortly after the body fell,” he began. “Guards Melin and Petros, both of whom I’ve seen on multiple patrols during the last week. The third was a younger man, Cadwell. I’ve only passed him once or twice in the barracks, but I noted his sandy hair and light build. None of them had soot or dust on them. They didn’t interfere with my search of the body, but neither did they offer help.” He shifted his stance slightly, folding his hands behind his back. “As for the chimney sweep himself, no, I didn’t recognize him. And I doubt I would. The sweepers stay mostly out of sight, using service passages and maintenance shafts not accessible through the regular patrol routes. I’ve never been stationed near those access points.” When Xiomara muttered under her breath, he tilted his head slightly toward her and said, “It may not be unrelated to the previous incident, Princess. The fake guards and this sweep both lacked proper training. Neither had escape plans. Neither were equipped for success. They strike me as expendable -- throwaway agents. They weren’t meant to return and report. They were meant to try and die, with or without success.” Hmmph. Just like himself. His tone didn’t rise or dramatize. He simply laid it out like puzzle pieces that had begun to fall into place. That kind of tactic, using disposables instead of skilled assassins, suggested one of two things to him: a desperate employer with no skilled vassals of their own, or someone carefully distancing themselves from failure. He led the way as they approached the head servant’s quarters. At Xiomara’s signal, he rapped on the door sharply. A few seconds later, it opened to reveal a bleary-eyed man with thinning hair and a sleep-creased face. “Apologies for the hour,” Nox said coolly. “We require your immediate assistance. You are to gather the servant rosters for this evening -- including maintenance, cleaning, sweepers, and staff granted leave -- and accompany us to Sir Tucker’s office.” The man blinked several times, clearly trying to process the urgency. “Y-yes, of course. Just a moment.” As the servant, Harrin, hurriedly moved to bundle ledgers and loose pages into a satchel, Nox remained in the threshold. While Harrin’s back was turned, Nox’s eyes swept the small chamber. The bed was modest, tucked neatly in the corner, though one of the boots beneath it was turned at an odd angle -- pulled off hastily. A thick robe hung from a peg near the hearth. Beside a small desk, a chipped teacup still held a trace of steam. He made note of everything: the arrangement of the books, the lack of any night drink stronger than tea, the presence of castle maintenance schedules stacked separately from the general rosters. Nice and ordinary. Once Harrin returned with an armload of materials, Nox nodded for the man to follow and led the small group back through the castle’s dim corridors. As they walked, he cracked open the top ledger and began to flip through the servant rosters by lantern light, skimming the neat columns of names and annotations with a practiced eye. “I’m seeing a pattern,” he said quietly to Xiomara, walking beside her. “Three maids were excused early tonight. One for an illness, one for a cousin’s wedding in town, and one on previously approved leave. Two just didn't show up. That leaves whole sections of the castle unusually understaffed for the evening.” He paused and turned a page. “And here -- the regular chimney sweep for this wing is on medical leave for the week. Broken leg.” His brow furrowed slightly as he scanned the sweep schedule. “All the other sweepers clocked out before sundown, as they’re supposed to. No one should’ve been near the parapet roof tonight, even during the day.” He tucked a page against the cover and added, “I saw no one else on the roof. No signs of accomplices. But the tiles used in the attack -- it's possible they were arranged in advance.” His voice lowered, as though musing to himself, “It wouldn’t take much to bribe someone to leave behind a pile of tiles in a certain spot. And once placed, no one would question them; castles are always under repairs. Unless someone starts looking for exactly this kind of detail.” They reached Sir Tucker’s office as he finished his speculation. Nox opened the door and let Xiomara enter first, then guided Harrin inside. The servant was clearly nervous, clutching the heavy satchel of records. Sir Tucker looked up from his desk, already tense. The second guard Xiomara had sent earlier stood at attention near the far wall. “Princess, someone has just attempted to kill you once more,” Tucker groaned, dragging a hand through his graying hair. “You should have called for more of your guards, not sent them on wild goose chases.” “I did with one of them. They should be coming,” Xiomara countered, her tone heated with exhaustion. “I thought moving faster would be more useful at the moment. I want there to be a true crack down on this. I should not have to fear for my life in my own home. I want deep background checks of everyone.” Tucker looked as if he wanted to protest, and Nox almost wanted to as well, but Xiomara was already ranting. Nox said nothing, remaining close enough to be useful but wisely staying out of the way of the princess’s righteous fury. When she finally sank into a chair and gestured toward Harrin, Nox stepped forward. “Sir Tucker,” he said, handing over the rosters. “This is Harrin, the head of the domestic staff. These records include every servant scheduled tonight, those who left early, and current sweep assignments.” He then elaborated calmly, “Several maids left early. A few reasons -- illness, wedding, requested leave -- but it leaves considerable gaps. The usual sweep is on medical leave with a broken leg. The others finished work well before nightfall. The one who attempted the attack had no business being where he was. The tiles used were likely staged in advance. I suggest we consider if a roofer or someone with access to the upper materials, like a merchant, may have been bribed to set the stage.” He met Tucker’s eyes. “This wasn’t the work of a trained assassin. But someone knew the rhythm of the castle. Knew the sweep would be absent. Knew what time the stars would bring the princess outside.” He looked briefly to Xiomara and added, “Someone with frequent access to the castle and information regarding Her Highness's personal life. A lower noble, perhaps, given the quantities of gold being passed around." Too bad it wasn't Andreus. |
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Lightbringer
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Subconsciously, Xiomara noted that Nox was reacting more efficiently and with more confidence than most guards she had encountered. She had observed over the years that most guards weren't the best at taking initiative and showing original thought as they could pass the responsibility on up to someone higher ranked than them or they could have a leader who did not encourage that for fear it would make them look bad. Her mind was racing, barely hearing the words that came out of Asher's mouth as he gave additional information that he had observed from the guards who were in the courtyard. She repeated the guards' names over and over in her mind trying to remember them although she didn't believe it was the most important information that he had conveyed to her. It was one thing to have someone who persistently wanted her dead, at least they were being consistent, but she really hated the idea that multiple people despised her this badly. "Why would they not offer to help?" she blankly asked wondering if she was missing something right in front of her. She didn't react to him explaining why he would not have been able to recognize the chimney sweeps. He had been here for a short time, and they were even less in the public eye than regular servants. She nodded thoughtfully as he connected a dot for her. Both attacks had been shots at luck and had not seemed very well thought out. The fake guards would have even been trained by the guard if they had stayed around long enough. She was important, so they would not need to report back. Whoever was the orchestrator would hear about her survival or death soon enough. Why did this person disregard the possibility of discovery or failure? She felt a bit guilty as Harrin opened the door looking as if he had been enjoying sleep. She had stormed down here without a thought, but she also didn't think it would hurt him since she didn't do this regularly. She didn't account for how frequently other servants might interrupt his sleep with news of something falling apart. For a moment Xiomara's sense of dignity and curiosity were at war with each other. She finally gave in and tried to peer through the opening and around Asher. She noted there were no decorations to cheer the room, and the paperwork was stacked separately. She wasn't sure what she had expected to see. It looked a bit cramped and that the bed was more narrow than she would like to attempt to sleep on. Asher began to investigate while they walked, which annoyed Xiomara slightly. She wanted him to be paying attention for assassins, but she didn't feel like telling him off. When he spoke to her she leaned a bit to see if she could see what he was seeing. "I would not have seen that as a pattern if I were the one looking," she admitted. They had many servants. She didn't know how many asked for time off normally. When he pointed out that a chimney sweep had broken his leg, that was something she would have been able to notice. "I hope whoever is doing this hasn't harmed him," she worried. "I doubt there is even a chimney on that particular roof. There aren't any fireplaces as far as I am aware on that tower. It's not a popular place to live." "Why do you think someone was paid to leave tiles up there? Someone could have been misinstructed or why do you think someone else was involved with the tiles?" she asked. She was unable to make the connections he was, as she had never had to play criminal detective. She was used to political machinations and not the doings of servants. She let Asher explain everything he had said to her again to Sir Tucker. She shivered when he said that it was someone who knew the ways of the castle. Who in the world should she not be trusting? Even if they were noble that did not automatically mean they should know the patterns of life here. "We shall have to make a list of nobles who visit regularly and live here. Could it be a rich merchant or do you only think a noble? Why a lower noble?" She wanted to understand their thought process and not just trust them and become more lost. After her tirade at Sir Tucker, Lucius and Jocasta burst through the doors. Or more accurately, the guards on either side opened the doors as they approached, so they effortlessly stormed through without pausing. "Xiomara, where have you been?" her mother raged, "We have been everywhere starting with the last place you were seen, checking your room, even going to the library. We only figured out where you were because we heard a servant who had been disturbed by the ruckus. What were you doing up on the rooftop! Where are your other two guards? Sir Tucker are you doing anything!" Lucius had opened his mouth prepared to say something similar, but his wife beat him to it. His mouth snapped shut, and he flinched away realizing how loud she was this late at night. He looked a bit shocked before he remorphed his facial expression to something more neutral. "My love, I was about to do what you are doing, but it is late at night. We don't need to alert everyone that something out of the ordinary has occurred," he tried to soothe her. "We are all here now. Let's let them catch us up." He turned a glare upon Xiomara showing solidarity with his wife even though he had instructed her to calm down and soften her tone. "I am glad you are well daughter," he allowed himself before he expected her to do her duty. Without preamble, Xiomara outlined what they had discussed now three times this one night. "I went to go find Mr. Harrin. He has given us access to the schedules for the servants and we know that some of them asked for time off so there were less people in certain areas of the castle. Also, the regular chimney sweep broke his leg which is how the attempted assassin was able to take his place. Sir Regess thinks that it is a lower noble because of the amount of gold that must be flowing and the access to the castle and court. Sir Regess found a bag of gold on the young chimney sweep. He tried to cause tiles to fall on me, and he barely missed. Sir Regess killed him and he fell into the courtyard. Sir Tucker should probably get a look at him, but he might have been tampered with by now. We think it is connected to the first attempt because they have been so desperate and untrained. They disregard any fear of being caught or failing because they didn't plan enough. And frankly, Sir Regess is the only guard who tried to do anything significant, so I figured that it would be better to send two of them to go find you and Sir Tucker and just move quickly." Her parents looked at her before Lucius stated the obvious, "You've been quite busy haven't you. Perhaps you should be escorted back to your room to sleep." "Father, I want to be able to sleep in peace. I need to know that this investigation has a direction. What nobles visit a lot or have a lot of access to the castle?" "Any of them can, but I would guess the more local ones would have an easier time of it. Simon Valois, Lavrentios Authoros, Alaric Langley, Francis De la Cour, and Thomas Fabrizius are all more local. It will take longer to make a list of those farther away. Alaric Langley, and Thomas Fabrizius are lower ranked. Will you start investigating them now?" he addressed that question at Sir Tucker. "Of course sir," he bowed slightly from the waist. "Good work Sir Regess. You have a good head on your shoulders. Now, I know it's not my place to dismiss royalty, but it would help me work if you all left my office. Sir Regess. When your shift is over would you like to help with the investigation?" Jocasta eyed her daughter, "We shall not be leaving until she does." Xiomara rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. I'll go to bed." She yawned shortly after announcing that and was soon asleep in her room. Sir Tucker's office quieted significantly once the royal family members had departed. |
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Darkseeker
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As the tension in the room thickened, Asher stood at quiet attention while Xiomara relayed everything once again. He noticed, with passing interest, how methodical she had become under pressure, how she broke down the events without panic or exaggeration. There was steel in her voice, an edge of control that hadn’t been present when he’d first met her. He marked it silently. If only she knew the kind of world she had just stepped into, even by demanding clarity instead of blind trust. When she turned her questions on him again, asking not just who but why, he met her gaze and answered without hesitation. “The gold found on the sweep wasn’t the sort of purse a desperate commoner scrounges together. It wasn’t old money; it was clean, and I would wager it was recently handled. That suggests someone with liquid access to funds, not someone stealing from a till or hoarding coppers.” He paused to glance toward Sir Tucker for a moment, then back to Xiomara. “As for the station of the one behind it, I think a lower noble is most likely. A merchant might afford the coin, but not the access. You would need someone who is often within the castle or knows its rhythms from experience or close observation. That narrows it to someone who walks the halls under legitimate pretense, but perhaps doesn’t draw much scrutiny.” His voice was measured, cool, as if he were outlining tactics for a chessboard rather than describing someone who might be orchestrating murders. “A higher-ranking noble would delegate through others and avoid the risk. A merchant would use coin and cutthroats. But this has a feel of someone nearby who isn't powerful enough to use armies, but has enough to bribe a few desperate fools.” He could see her processing. Good. If she was going to keep breathing, she’d need to learn how to think like the people who wanted her dead. But then came the storm. The doors flung open, and Queen Jocasta all but burst into the room, fire in her voice and fury in every step. King Lucius followed behind, his composure only slightly better, though the crumpling expression that flickered across his face made Nox glance away to hide the flicker of amusement that touched his lips. So, that’s what cowed royalty looks like. He didn’t move -- or react at all, really -- while Jocasta shouted. He simply stood still beside the servant rosters, as silent as a shadow behind the princess. As Xiomara defended herself, Nox listened again to her phrasing as she repeated herself once more. It seemed to him that the princess was staking her credibility with them, not pleading for it. That distinction didn’t escape him. Once King Lucius praised her “busyness” and suggested bed, Nox almost expected her to argue again. But she didn’t. Instead, she insisted on knowing what nobles might be worth watching. That, finally, produced a list. Nox did not interrupt, but he filed the names away instantly. Simon Valois. Lavrentios Authoros. Alaric Langley. Francis De la Cour. Thomas Fabrizius. Langley and Fabrizius. Local, lower nobles. Good starting points. The other three would require further investigation -- especially Valois, if monetary transaction was involved. He nodded faintly when Sir Tucker turned to him with the offer to assist further. “I’d be honored, sir,” he said. “I’ll complete my shift and then return straight away.” Once the family finally filed out, the atmosphere in Sir Tucker’s office changed drastically. The tension lifted not with relief, but with grim focus. Nox remained where he was for a moment, resting one hand lightly on the edge of the desk as the silence settled. He looked down to the rosters again, idly flipping through the papers while Sir Tucker gave a quiet exhale of fatigue. “Fabrizius owns several tenant lands east of the city, doesn’t he?” Nox asked without looking up. “Far enough to need a carriage. Close enough to arrive unannounced.” Tucker rubbed his temple. “That’s right. He’s been to the castle three times this month. Once for the banquet. Twice… I think for minor court matters.” “Minor court matters don’t usually require personal visits.” Nox’s tone was dry. “Any of the others stop by recently?” “Valois came last week,” Tucker muttered. “Something about shipping permissions. Francis De la Cour was here two nights ago.” Nox looked up now, his pale eyes locking with Tucker’s. “Was he? You’re sure?” “He signed the guest ledger,” Tucker confirmed. “Didn’t stay long.” “Perhaps long enough.” Nox tapped the side of the roster once. “I’ll ask around during the change of shift. See if any other guards saw anything unusual this week. Or anyone lingering near maintenance corridors.” He paused, then added, “The attempt was crude. That doesn’t necessarily mean the mind behind it is.” Sir Tucker gave a grudging nod of agreement. Then Nox took a step back and glanced toward the door the princess had exited through; he probably ought to follow her -- no doubt she was waiting, and it was his job to protect her, even if it was just a temporary guise. “She was right to act quickly,” he said quietly, surprising even himself. He wasn’t sure when he had started to use the word she instead of the target in his mind. Nox excused himself from Sir Tucker's office and returned to Xiomara's side with an apology for leaving her unattended. He really had to stop doing that. |
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Lightbringer
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Xiomara trekked out of the office with the line of other people who had filled it. She was almost ready to start walking away when she peered about and realized that Asher hadn't accompanied them. He was still talking to Sir Tucker. She huffed and came to a standstill while her remaining guards exchanged looks that a princess was waiting for a guard. As she stood waiting, heaviness descended on her exhausted body. She had been tense and excited for hours trying to figure out who had wanted to cause her harm. The walk to her room felt like it was an impossible journey, but there was nowhere in between here and there where she could rest her head. Her mind began to wander and she tried to listen in on the conversation inside. She only heard one phrase well; she was right to act quickly. His lowered voice had carried better than he had probably intended. A few moments later, she heard the telltale sounds of him exiting the office. "You really shouldn't be leaving me unattended when someone is trying to kill me. You swore up and down that nothing would happen under your care, and so far I am feeling less and less confidence in you." She began the walk to her room and started to wake up once more. She had at least enough juice in her for a running commentary, "I heard you thought I was right. Would you have said that to my face?" Of the decisions she had made today, expecting someone to immediately begin to investigate the incident was not one of the craziest things that had happened. She wanted to rub it in his face, but she was afraid that he would have a cutting retort ready. "So how are you going to step up your protective services? I guess the most obvious thing is to not be lured away so easily. If someone is paying this much attention to me, they'll know my guards' personal habits when it comes to protecting me." When they arrived at her quarters, two guards opened the doors to her room, and she dipped her head in thanks and bid them good night. Once inside a maid helped her out of her dress; she dressed in her nightgown by herself and lay on her bed. She would’ve lain on top of the covers, but the maid had anticipated her actions and pulled them down, so she slipped in easily. She closed her mind trying to enjoy the softness and to slow the rapidness of her thoughts. Her mind mulled over the day’s events envisioning what had happened. Asher had snapped into action quickly and almost seemed a different more vengeful person after her second near death experience. Asher had climbed the wall too effortlessly without safety gear. It would have taken great strength, and he must have great grip strength. Who knew where he had managed to wander with that skill! It made more sense now why he had been in the library. She doubted he had tried to draw his sword on the roof. That would have been unwieldy and she believed that she would have seen the glint of the blade unsheathed. Perhaps he had used daggers or knives to kill the assassin. She also did not remember hearing a struggle, so perhaps he had launched a weapon at the assailant. That would mean he had further unusual special skills. She should have gone to look at the assassin in the courtyard. She also wished she had asked more details about how he had killed him. She kept trying to consider all the angles of the attack. Her mind drifted into sleep as the memories took on a life of their own. She hardly noticed that she was dreaming because it was very vivid and didn't quite contradict what she knew to be true. She could see Asher startled that roof tiles were crashing, and then he attacked her. She shrank away from the attack and kept on managing to dodge as he threw his knives at her. He was the assassin pretending to be loyal at her side! How had she not seen it? As morning came, she began to forget the dream as she dreamed of other things that were more fantastical. An anxiety, fear, and anger continued in the tenseness of her shoulders and the iritation of her stomach. She felt angry at Asher for betraying her in her dream. Her eyes snapped open as soon as light began to peek in at her through the window. She bolted upright and felt angry at Asher. She felt like he hadn’t been doing his job, but she knew that he had. She had forgotten the dream she had with Asher trying to kill her. She rolled out of bed and hurried to her closet with a maid rushing behind her. The woman bowed from the waist a few times apologetically. Her voice started to quaver as she explained, “I’m sorry milady. I did not realize you would wake and be in such a rush. I thought you might wish to rest after your late night yesterday. Please, give me a moment, and I will find an outfit suitable for today. What is on your agenda?” “I would prefer something more casual, comfortable, and can move in it. Don’t worry about dressing to impress for meetings. I can change if something comes up. I shall be going to see Sir Tucker.” The maid helped clothe her in a fairly plain green dress with minimal decoration. It was still high quality handiwork. She knew that Asher would not be on duty, especially after last night. Not only would he be given extra time to recover, but Sir Tucker had requested that Asher’s keen investigative skills be put to use. As she began to assemble her usual entourage and make her way to Sir Tucker’s office, she pulled a servant aside and requested that she get the kitchen to send food to Sir Tucker’s office. When she arrived, she pulled a bright smile onto her face. “Good morning Sir Tucker. Did you rest any after I left? What have you learned Sir Tucker? Who do you have working on the case? Is Asher working on it or is he currently resting?” She gazed around his office at the mess of papers. Sir Tucker franticly tried to sweep some of them together in the resemblance of an organized pile. Something clicked in her mind or she was starting to remember how it fell into place in her dream. Asher was an assassin. Whether he was the one orchestrating her death, he was trying to escape that life, or he was posed ready and waiting for his opportune moment later in her life, he was too skilled to be some common man wanting to be a guard. He had killed the other assassin too easily. He was too comfortable on the rooftops. That was something her guards wouldn't have generally done without a safety harness and a ladder. They also would have tried to capture such a young boy for questioning if he truly was the age of the average chimney sweep. Her heart began to beat faster, and she eyed Sir Tucker. Perhaps there were more assassins in her service. How did they hire an assassin? Would anyone take her concern seriously or just think it was all paranoia? |
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Darkseeker
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As he exited, he was chided for his abandonment, and then was promptly asked, "Would you have said that to my face?" He offered a small sniff of mock-offense. “Absolutely not. That would encourage further dangerous behavior.” He smirked faintly, a fleeting thing, before his face settled back into something more appropriate. Nox apologized for his lax security, assuring her that it would not happen again. -- The night had been long, filled with sprinting from one lord's location to the next. He had stalked the perimeters of castle wings, memorized the gait of early servants on shift, listened in silence from concealed alcoves, and followed trails where most would not even think to look. His face, still cloaked in the impassive expression of a dutiful guard, masked the thoughts that worked tirelessly behind his pale eyes. His legs ached faintly from scaling buildings, and there was dried mud along the hem of his trousers where he had crouched near a garden gate watching one of the noble scullery couriers disappear after midnight. He hadn’t slept. He hadn’t needed to. And now he had answers, or at least the beginnings of them. When he arrived back at Sir Tucker’s office, he found the man already speaking with the princess. He paused, hearing his name. “Asher has been looking into several nobles,” Tucker was saying. “I’ve been working through the servant ledgers. He said he’d report back when-” Nox cleared his throat deliberately and rapped his knuckles against the edge of the doorway. “Reporting back,” he said simply, and stepped inside, bowing respectfully toward Princess Xiomara. “Your Highness.” He was freshly dressed, though his boots and sleeves betrayed signs of having been in less than pristine conditions. A cut near his knuckle was freshly bandaged. Sir Tucker straightened with some relief, gesturing him closer. “Good timing, Regess. I take it you didn’t sleep.” “I found that the dark hours offer more honesty than the daytime,” he said with a faint shrug. “I’ve narrowed the field.” He moved to the cluttered table and laid out a folded map and a list written in a meticulous, slanted hand. “Langley and Fabrizius both had unaccounted-for hours during the day of the roof incident. Langley, in particular, was seen near the east servant hall around dusk claiming he was retrieving a handkerchief he'd dropped earlier that morning.” He looked at Tucker. “It was embroidered with the royal crest, which he said was a gift from a friend. No witness confirmed that exchange.” He tapped the paper with a gloved finger. “Fabrizius paid a large sum to a traveling farrier two nights ago. The payment was enough to buy three horses, but only one was taken. The farrier has no idea why the excess gold was offered; he claimed he thought it was a bribe not to ask questions. The sweep could’ve used that horse to approach the castle unseen if someone led him in, though I don't like that theory as much." Then his attention turned back to Xiomara. His tone remained formal, but drier than it had been last night. “I’ll do better vetting future assassins. I’m sure we all prefer attempts from professionals.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were sharp. Probing. He had seen it -- some change in her posture. In the air between them. She’s looking at me differently. Tucker glanced between the two of them, missing the current but sensing something unspoken. “Well,” the man muttered, returning to his ledgers. “Between Asher’s findings and the servant reports, I’m beginning to believe this was orchestrated by someone who understands the schedules intimately. Not just the rosters -- we have gaps in areas where multiple servants were rotated out at once. And none of it was flagged.” “Which suggests manipulation from within,” Nox murmured, folding his arms. “Either someone in the servant management or someone who can influence them.” A beat passed. Then, quieter, he added, “We may need to speak with Lord Langley. He’s been in and out of court regularly, and I found his personal valet poking around the servant wing after hours. Said he was returning a laundry slip and preparing for an upcoming feast with the royal family.” He turned toward Xiomara again. “Would Your Highness prefer I look into the noble houses directly, or continue shadowing the servant corridors? I suspect either route leads to the same place.” He kept his posture relaxed, but he was watching closely now. Something had shifted. |
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Fall Month: 2 
Night 
Clear Moon: 
