~Risch~

"My dear inquisitor! Do not bother yourself with knocking on whatever is left of the door, it is as wide open as it looks," Darren called from his perch among the mess.

Risch stepped forward carefully, avoiding splinters of wood from furniture that had been dealt with more violently. There was a finely inlaid chair laying next to the door but just out of sight from where he had first entered. He righted it and placed it just in front of the doorway, then sat down where Ihre could see him. She kept her distance, enough so that she didn't inadvertently add more pressure, but still close enough that she could hear everything that was said.

Darren continued, "You being an inquisitor, are you here to ask me some questions? I did see the bodies, but my expertise is not in forensics, so I must apologize in advance for any shortfalls in insight."

Overly complicated vocabulary, one word that Risch hadn't ever heard, even in passing. Probably an attempt to get him off balance. The difference between him and his father wasn't that one was cooperative and the other not, it was just a difference in approach.

"Luckily for me, the prince is generally less interested in asking questions and more interested in telling me the right answers," Risch said. "It would be better for you if I never had cause to be asking questions. Better to just give me your answers and I'll be on my way."

"Then let me ask a question. Does it matter what happened here?" Darren asked.

It was an admittedly good question. If it was part of a cover-up like he had suspected, it was also probably coupled with moves to make sure that even if he did survive, his information wouldn't be nearly as useful. If it was a reprisal, then Risch didn't doubt that the prince would be happy to look the other way. If his objectives were truly those of the prince's, then it was a moot point.

"Any attack on a citizen of the king matters as a matter of course. Just as it wouldn't do to do nothing in the face of injustice, we inquisitors have a duty to find and punish criminality in all its guises." Risch took a moment to make sure that he was understood. "I simply need you to tell me if there are any groups or individuals who may have orchestrated this."

Darren laughed and said, "Two come to mind, but one of them would be very much a wrong answer. The other is, to my knowledge, the only female crime-boss that we have in this dear city of ours. She holds something of a grudge for past dealings."

Madam Moon and most likely Prince Phillip himself then. Risch wasn't thrilled by the idea that he would have to interact more with her, but it made sense. It explained why she had been at one of Masler's old sites at least.

***

~Mary~

The paper piled across the table in front of her made up its own mountain range of sorts. Some of it could conceivably be sorted by topic or importance, but most of it just made up an interconnected mess. For example, passing on reports on the whereabouts of important peoples were time sensitive, but were only useful when coupled with context. That meant she had to sort through the minutes of public meetings they had attended to get insight on what their other movements might mean. More often than not, it meant that she had to cross reference her notes to pin down who met with who off the record and why. It all served as a powerful distraction, but it created a headache of its own.

Mary sat back and looked up at the ceiling. Above her, Chella was still lying in her bed, unresponsive. The wood that stretched its fingers from one wall to its opposite looked like something between a wicker basket and a cage. The constriction was only counterbalanced by the weight from above, a careful balancing act between two different versions of collapse. The pitchforks were soon to come out and yet here she sat, burying herself in work so that she didn't have to notice when it all came crashing down. It all seemed so terribly important, the work that her father trusted her with, and yet it was the best that she could do to predict a deal here and there just a bell before its announcement.

Had Chella been here, would things have gone faster? Doubled her results or even better? She was nearly two whole bells behind in her information just because she stayed here. It was wasteful for her to stay nearby in the off chance that Chella woke, but it would be so much worse if Chella woke and she wasn't here.

Mary heard a shout from outside, the next round of reports. She carefully moved one of the oldest stacks to the floor where she could find it if something needed to be double-checked. The price of getting such information quickly was redundancy and contradictions between sources. With space made on the table, Mary worked her way past the maze of outdated reports and to the door.

The runner was still panting when she opened the door. Unlike the usual armful of scrawling messes made by barely literate spies and overworked scribes alike, he only held a single sheaf with the city guard's seal stamped at its top.

"Big news, the Duke says that analysis can be put on hold," he managed between heaving breaths of air. He handed Mary the sheaf and as soon as she got a firm grasp on it, took off at a dead sprint back towards the council chambers.

Official Status Report
9,32-4,2,9-1425
Captain Horace Ked, Patrol 2

Seventeen killed at the Masler estate

Unknown assailants surrounded and then killed all peoples present at the Masler estate some time between 18,00-3,2,9 and 8,40-4,2,9. Number of assailants is currently estimated at six to eight with minimum two confirmed. No witnesses of suspicious entrance or exit have yet been found. The guard was called in by Baron Masler. Also unhurt was his driver who was with the Baron at the time.

Also included are details on the victims, causes of death, and an addendum written by Inquisitor Risch of the King's Tribunal.

Mary recognized the name of the inquisitor as the same one who had harassed her on behalf of the prince. It was also nearly a bell and a half past when it had been issued. It was just like her father to drop everything for her. Even when that attitude just added to the stress of the thing as it so often turned out.

Flipping through the pages she saw name after name, each with a description of some gory wound. All of them were younger than forty years old and one was as young as four years old. The last page had the inquisitor's addendum, copied into the same careful script as the rest of the document.

Addendum
9,29-4,2,9-1425
Inquisitor Risch

There is overwhelming evidence that points to the assailants being well organized professionals. Investigators should be advised that these assailants will most likely respond to further investigation with similar acts of violence. Generally, caution should be had by any who have associated with Baron Masler as the motives of this incident are still unclear. Given that this appears to be an isolated incident, it is therefore recommended that no further steps be taken in discovering these assailants.

Mary wasn't surprised given that he seemed to be taking orders from Prince Phillip, but disappointment came anyway. It was a perversion of the justice system to ignore a crime simply because investigation carried risks. It was also the oft cited reason why nobles so rarely faced the council of lords for their actions.

It would be good form to show up to the Masler estate, and it would give her something productive to do instead of watching her mountain range slowly expand across the entire room. Such were the duties of the nobility.

***

Loveless marriage was a common theme of theatre, but it was always played as the result of manipulations outside of the participants' control. In some of those stories, a parent was making a play at power and needed a way to bind an alliance. The beautiful daughter would be wed to an ugly brute who she escapes by tying herself to an even more powerful party. Or in the opposite version, a princely youngest son forced into the hands of an old hag runs off and establishes himself through achievement.

Then what of her, what with this being her first time seeing the Masler estate? Escaping the clutching hands of a prince and getting engaged out of spite. That was all that she had in this story. Mary looked down at her hands, still stained with the ink of her pen. She was no common scribe girl to be found out a princess and raised to her rightful station. She was simply a bureaucrat in a system built to see only a certain type of blood.

Her conversation with Jezbeth must have affected her more than she had thought. It was tempting to allow herself to believe that things were too far gone. That the good of reform outweighed whatever channels that took. It was also unfair to all those who had played within the lines. Those who had milked the system for all that it was worth, but refrained from breaking the rules even when they were designed to be without consequences.

The rolling came to a stop. In some of the other stories, it was by the king's decree that the loveless marriage was initiated. Mary stepped down to the street and thanked the driver absentmindedly. But they already had a lover. There was no trace of the city guard anymore, all left. A rebellion would be raised against the king's tyranny. The bodies were gone too, even if the blood stains still marked where they had once lain. Then the king has the traitors hanged, sometimes with the protagonist and sometimes not. Mary tried the knocker, but there was no answer. Moral of the story, obey your king. The door was silent as she opened it, recently oiled, perhaps just before it happened.

Darren flashed her a smile as she entered, then asked, "Is Chella awake yet?"