Chapter Four: A Reluctant Conspirator
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Hi, everybody!

Sorry about the late upload! My laptop died for the second time in three months and I'm currently doing all of my writing and posting from my tablet until I get it fixed, which is less than ideal. Please bear with me for the next week or two. My posts shouldn't be too far off, but they might occasionally be a day late. If you cannot forgive me, please post a haiku below voicing your displeasure.

-Ovid

Chapter Four: A Reluctant Conspirator

Whoever had attempted to kill Laeanna and had half-succeeded surely wouldn't give up after seeing her inexplicably still alive. But to know who to look out for, we'd have some inkling of who had done it.

The realm of Wisthelm was responsible for Laeanna's death - Meliswe was sure of it. Their… our realm wasn't at war with the Wisten, not technically, but a union between the Vernal and Estival realms would unite half of the fae nations and this would somehow halt Wisthelm's expansion (the logistics turn out to be complicated). So, Meliswe's thinking went, they sought to undermine the ruling families of Vernal and Estival by poisoning Queen Alathea's only daughter - with an 'accursed' poison, apparently, as a regular poison wouldn't do the trick. You could kill the fae just like you could kill anybody else, but they'd just come back within a few years, sailing in from some faraway land called Elysheim, unless you cursed the body so the soul couldn't remain anchored in the world.

"I assume the queen is still young since we're so long-lived… if Laeanna was to die, wouldn't she just try for another daughter?"

Meliswe laughed - it was a delighted, sparkling titter. "You really know nothing of us, lady! Each fae woman can have but a single son and a single daughter - a single fae son and daughter, though she may bear other children by other races. So, too, may each fae man sire only two fae children, though sometimes they end up with two daughters or two sons if they are born to different partners. King Alvaelic of Estival wound up with two sons, though the elder considered the favor his father showed toward the younger so unfair that he renounced his princely title and left for parts unknown, and so Estival has but one royal heir, its good Prince Calivar, and thus…"

"So only the princess of Vernal and the prince of Estival can join the two realms. I think I understand."

I wondered whether it would be a relevant time to point out that I had absolutely no desire to bed a fae lad, however keen and princely he might be. I decided it was probably best left to a later time. If I needed to, I could always just flee the realm - I could literally fly away if I wanted to - but it would be foolish to do so before I knew what I was getting into. After a few months as an infantry staff sergeant and a day and change as a second lieutenant, I knew the value of reconnaissance and waiting until the right time before jaunting out into the unknown. And I was definitely in the unknown.

Chief and foremost among the unknown was: who the hell had tried to kill Laeanna and how had they done it? There were no marks on her body - and, believe you me, Meliswe and I had checked. Laeanna's skin was smooth and blemish-free, so the slightest mark or abrasion would have stuck out like the mange. It was a bit disconcerting, having a beautiful woman carefully inspect my nude body, even if the body was only recently mine. I'll admit it: watching her crouched over, inspecting my feminine nethers as I inspected more-accessible bits of my body? It got me a little bit heated, and she had to have noticed. I blushed and the flush of warmth spread throughout me, with certain parts warming more than others. I appreciated a woman's body as much as ever, and I was in a comely woman's body, and another comely woman was running her fingers along sensitive bits of skin…

"Ah…" I sucked in breath as her fingers traced up my inner thigh. "I doubt they got me there…"

"My lady, we have to know how the poison was delivered if we're to winnow down the suspects. I've seen your intimates before."

"You haven't," I insisted. "They weren't my 'intimates' then, and they are now."

Meliswe wrinkled her nose, perhaps noting some indication of arousal emanating from me. "Ah… true. How easily I've forgotten - Lariborn was a homesteader and a soldier. But you are my princess now, and there are no secrets between a lady and her handmaiden. I can disrobe if it would make things less awkward…"

I was tempted. Sweet lord, was I tempted. "If you… would that be appropriate?"

"It would be questionable." She stood and looked me in the eye - she was blushing a bit, too, her rosy cheeks grown even rosier. "I've checked everywhere I can think to, in any case. This leaves us with ingested poison."

"Or through contact with the skin… or through the nose, ear, or mouth if she was sleeping… or maybe as a gas like chlorine…"

Meliswe's eyes went wide. "You have experience with poisons?"

"Um… I've read about them." By that, I meant I'd read every Doyle, Poe, or Collins mystery that I could get my hands on. My knowledge of poisons consisted of fictional accounts and how to put on a gas mask in six seconds flat. "But I don't know much about your poisons. The last time somebody important was assassinated, how was it done?"

"A stone was chained to her ankle and she was pushed out of a tower window," Meliswe said matter-of-factly.

"Permanently, by poison, I mean."

"Not just anybody can make an accursed poison. I can make alchemical trifles, like that used for the resurrection ceremony, but an accursed poison? It must be an expert, and they must have prepared the potion nearby, for the poison won't hold its curse for long. Perhaps an hour."

"I figure that's our best starting point, then. Make a list of everybody who'd be able to curse a poison, and then we'll go through them one at a time and list the pros and cons for them being the culprit. We've got to be scientific about it…"

"Scien-tific?" Meliswe wasn't familiar with the word.

"You know… logical. Careful. Leave no stone unturned."

That proved more easily said than done. Meliswe was quite familiar with the Vernal court and its denizens and was able to quickly jot down a list of ten members who had enough or near enough knowledge (like she did) to pull it off. But there weren't any probable suspects. Meliswe had sort-of resurrected the princess, so it wasn't her. The queen wouldn't have offed her own daughter, even if she wasn't so politically important. Surburrus had been in the queen's employ for seventy years and had tutored Laeanna from a young age. Morwen, the queen's alchemist, had been in her retinue for a century and had standing in court. And so on - all of those able were loyal subjects of the queen, most of them for longer than I'd been alive, and none stood to benefit from the assassination. I was almost giddy - the mystery was afoot!

We'd just gone through the list (which I couldn't read, though I don't think Meliswe realized that) when there was a rapping at the door - at the big double doors of the suite entrance. Meliswe scurried over and saw the man in. Well… I use the term loosely. He was a cloven-hooved goat-man - a faun I would learn - in a cloak and a waistcoat. He bowed slightly at Meliswe and then deeply toward me, his half-goat eyes avoiding any contact with mine.

"Princess Laeanna, the queen is back from her campaign and wishes your presence at supper. Shall I tell her to expect you?"

I glanced to Meliswe, who nodded tersely. I tried to think of how a princess might say 'yes'. "Tell my mother that I am pleased to hear of her return, and I will gladly sup with her."

The faun bowed again and backed out of the room - perhaps it was uncouth to turn one's back on a princess? Meliswe certainly had no problem with it, though she also knew that I wasn't truly a princess. After she closed the door, she turned back to me, confusion playing across her face.

"You… just then, you sounded just like her."

"Good. Because, for the time being, I am her. Maybe, with your help, I won't make a fool of myself tonight."

+++++

Supper with the queen wasn't such a big deal after all. The food was hoity-toity and we were waited on hand and foot, but I didn't have to speak much at all. The queen loved to hear herself talk, and she loved to talk about herself. This is the case with most VIPs I've had the pleasure of meeting. My presence there was mostly secondary - I was a receptacle to listen to the queen, not an active participant in the discussion. Though, apparently, this was not quite the usual. In a standard palace supper, the princess liked to hear herself talk, too, and I was far more taciturn than her.

"Is something nagging at you, my sweet? You've hardly said a word - I know you and your father aren't on the warmest of terms, no pun intended, but I'd have thought you'd want all the juicy gossip on the Hibernal court. You always gush with the latest gossip and soak it up like a sponge… not that there's anything wrong with being well-informed. What say you?"

Maybe it's intimidating to be addressed by any monarch, at least on your first few times. But queen Alathea was more than a little intimidating. She displayed the same otherworldly beauty that her daughter possessed, and she knew how to use it, her every expression and gesture designed to convey her point and influence those around her. She looked older than Laeanna, but not by much - perhaps a decade her senior. Certainly no older than my own twenty-nine Earth years. Her hair was silver-green, done up in elaborate braids, and a silver, many-jeweled crown perched atop her head. And she was waiting for my response.

"I am, of course, delighted to hear about the news from the…" I tried to remember the word… "Hibernal court. My father's affairs seem well enough, and I am not a child anymore - I can put my misgivings aside and start things on a new leaf." I tried to remind myself of how to deal with officers - after all, what is a queen, but a very snooty woman officer? My time as a staff sergeant taught me this: temper expectations, but do not disappoint. "I have been feeling a bit distressed lately, I'm afraid. My worries are not over the Hibernal court, but the…" I recalled Estival court - that one was easy since it was one 'f' short of festival. "Fff… Estival realm is one that's been on my mind. Tell me, mother, is there any word from there?"

My mother smiled and looked toward one of her ladies. The one in the fancy robe who kept sending concerned glances in my direction. Morwen, Queen Alathea's alchemist. I was worried that she'd picked up on something being off about me. But she was also on our list of suspects - maybe she expected that I'd be dead?

"My daughter is as bright as she is beautiful," the queen said. "It seems you've deduced our real reason for visiting winter's realm - to send word through the summer courtiers and seal our intentions toward the realm. And time is surely of the essence, for King Alvaelic of the Estival realm has felt the pull to Elysheim, and within a dozen summers, I suspect he will depart for those strange and distant shores. Thus, the bond between our two realms must happen now if it is to happen at all, for a queen and a king are mature and cannot bond as prince and princess can. I expect an invitation from Alvaelic by the day."

"I look forward to it, mother," I lied. "Do not concern yourself if I seem…" I searched for a fancy word… "diffident lately. I am trying to be more serious in my duties, and I am trying to think as a princess rather than as an impetuous girl."

"I will be queen for many springtimes yet, my sweet, but I will be happy if this new outlook becomes a habit. Now… let me recount to you an interesting insight I had on the road back from Hibernal…"

Now I'm not the smoothest talker in the world, but I can sell a five dollar horse for ten dollars if I have to, and I can butter up an officer who needs greasing. It's a fact that people are the same everywhere, whether they're humans, fae, or any of the dozen other races of the realm, and royalty are just officers with crowns and castles. The key to smooth talking is that your subject (or, in some cases, monarch) can't know they're being smooth-talked to but instead has to internally flatter themselves over the things you've said. And you can't ever lie to their face, though half-truths are fine, if not preferable. Once you've been caught in a bald-faced lie, there's no recovering from it.

+++++

"Did you think that woman… Morwen? Was Morwen shooting me funny looks all supper long?"

Meliswe nodded. "More than that, my lady. When you first came in, she was shocked. She must be the culprit. I feel it in my wings."

"Where will she be this time of the evening?"

A queen's court didn't have what you might call regular business hours. A member of the court with an official position, as the queen's alchemist was, lived in the palace and was expected to be on duty whenever required. This meant she might be in her own suite of rooms, the laboratory adjacent to them, or even in the library. If she wasn't expecting any more work for the day, she might be walking through the gardens for a nighttime stroll. That's the way we went - through the gardens - since it was the fastest way to her laboratory.

"If it's her, she won't be in the garden," I stated.

"Why do you say that, my lady? The two of us have often seen her in our evening strolls…" She winced a bit - this was my first-ever stroll through the gardens.

"People who are guilty or scared don't take leisurely walks at night."

"You are wise, my princess."

I shrugged. "I've got good horse sense is all."

The garden occupied the palace's main courtyard. It was pretty big, too, at least an acre in size. Dense ferns and flowers with marble pathways running among them, sleeping songbirds perched in flowering dwarf trees. The walls and spires of the palace rose around it, but above was nothing but clear, starry sky with faintly-glowing nebulae of every color of the rainbow and a host of strange constellations. I spotted the moon, barely visible above the eastern wall. It was twice the size of Earth's moon and its gibbous side shone a verdant green.

"Your moon is green?"

Meliswe squeezed my hand and nodded. "Yes, princess. It's said that our people fled from there at the end of the Sylvan Age, that we were once kings and queens of its endless forests and jungles."

I marveled to myself what a bizarre world I'd found myself in - Alfheim is what they called it, though I wasn't too clear what that referred to. Was it just the planet we were on, assuming it was a planet, or was it the whole realm of cosmos I currently occupied? If my wings could carry me into space, could I eventually spot the sun and make my way back to Earth? As I thought, I leaned into Meliswe as I'd often leaned into Abigail on our walks through the country green, and I put my arm around my handmaiden without really registering it. If she found it strange or improper, she didn't say so.

"This way to Morwen's laboratory," she said eventually, reluctant to break the peaceful silence. She tugged at my hand and I followed after her.

We ascended a spiral staircase, crossed a hallway with great big windows looking out into the black of night, and took a turn into yet another hallway. The palace was immense, far larger than any building I'd ever been in, even the Louvre. It took us about twenty minutes to stroll from the queen's dining room to Morwen's lab, and ours was apparently the fastest route. Meliswe knocked on the door twice and, when she got no answer, she pulled the door open and indicated that it was proper that I should go in first.

Morwen hadn't heard us knocking or entering. She paced the laboratory, wringing her hands and muttering to herself. She took a phial and tossed it into a blue alchemical fire, turning the glass into slag with a his and a pop. She marched back over to her big workbench and shuffled the papers around. Finally, she spotted me traipsing into her laboratory in my diaphanous gown and gasped.

"I… I didn't hear you come in, Princess Laeanna."

I was about to say something snide, but Meliswe brushed right past me, storming up to the alchemist with her little fists balled like she was fixing for a fight. "You were shocked when the princess came in to sup with the queen. I saw you, Morwen… you did it, didn't you? You tried to kill my princess! Your princess!"

She was a bit more direct than I would have been, but it sure did the trick. Morwen collapsed to her knees, bawling in earnest, and it took every bit of restraint I had not to rush over to the sobbing woman and comfort her. "I swear, milady, it wasn't me…"

I held Meliswe back - she still looked about one foul word away from fisticuffs. I crouched to look Morwen in the eye. "But it's clear enough you knew of it. Why didn't you put a stop to it?"

Morwen put her hands together as if in prayer, begging my forgiveness. "I… I couldn't. They had my family, my son and my daughter, and they had the poison. They were going to kill my children, to end my line forever. What was I to do?"

"Why don’t you tell me what you did do."

It had started two days before, when Morwen went to visit her children and make her weekly offering at the Shrine Upon the Green (whatever that was). She arrived at the family manse, where her son and daughter still lived, and found her husband dead (though not permanently) upon the floor, stabbed through many times with more blood around than she'd ever seen in one place. Morwen rushed to check on her children and found them both hostage to three men, one half-fae-half-human and the other two full-blooded dancers (whatever those were). They showed her the accursed potion and told her: "Get the two of us into the palace and give us access to your laboratory. If we do not return in one day or are in any way displeased, our friend will administer the accursed poison to your progeny and your line will end, Morwen, daughter of Valareon."

"Which one was to administer the poison to your children?" I asked.

"One of the dancers," she sniffed. "The half-fae and the dancer accompanied me through the southern stair entrance as my guests. The guard saw us, and I presumed that I would soon be caught, as I have been… but at least my children are safe." In my mind, I pictured Morwen entering with two tutu-wearing ballerinas… in fact, dancers are a little bit more frightening than that.

"They let your children go?"

Morwen shook her head. "They killed them, but quickly, only with their blades. Gaia willing, they will return from Elysheim before too long."

Once inside the palace, the two men worked over the poison for hours in the laboratory before deeming it complete. Then the dancer, ever the master of disguise, took the form of one of the palace servants and poured it into the princess's evening wine. The potion itself was a cerulean blue color, but it was masked by the dark red of the wine and, presumably, had little taste or smell of its own. As the potion took hold, the princess would drift into a deep sleep and, as the curse sank in, it would kill her and prevent her soul from taking flight to Elysheim, where she might be resurrected or reborn.

"And yet she did," Meliswe whispered, awe in her voice. Apparently, making your way to Elysheim from limbo was a pretty big deal.

I stood and approached the alchemist's bench. "How can we believe a damn word you've said? When we came in, you were busy destroying the evidence of the crime - how can we ever confirm your account?"

"My family were all slain - go and check, if you wish. Go and check, and then believe me or do not, princess. Do with me as you wish - my actions were mine and mine alone, and I accept responsibility for them. I am no assassin, my princess," Morwen said. "I am overjoyed that these swine failed in their mission and that my family is now beyond their reach. But… these assassins will only be stoked to fury by the taste of failure. Find it in yourself to believe me, and I will be forever in your debt."

Like I've said - I've got a good horse sense, and I can sniff out a whopper from two fields away. Morwen's story rang true, and when you can get a debt of gratitude from an officer, which the queen's alchemist basically was, you take it. I clasped her hand and shook it, which she seemed a bit confused about. The fae aren't too big on handshakes. Then I looked her in the eye with Laeanna's most serious expression (pretty serious), and said:

"You've just made a pact with a princess of the fae. Never forget, Morwen, daughter of Valareon, that you are in my debt."

Thanks for reading, and make sure you follow me here to catch my latest releases! Chapters for A Princess of Alfheim will be posted on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays for the time being. If you liked this story, don't forget to check out my many other stories Scribble Hub, Patreon, or Amazon (free with Kindle Unlimited)!

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