Castle Crema

The beetle flew away, its bright red wings glittering in the sunlight as it sped off towards the capital. The beetles had their skeptics, but they were certainly one of the quicker and more reliable ways of getting messages back. They were quicker than pigeons, anyone with any sense knew not to try and catch them. After all, capturing or harming an imperial message beetle carried a hefty fine, as did unauthorized possession of even a single wing. Still, despite the protections, beetles did occasionally vanish before reaching their destination; this made every message sent was a bit of a gamble.

The guard eyed Helevisa suspiciously, spitting out a stem of grass that he'd been chewing on. She certainly looked official enough, and the detachment of Isran Cavalry seemed pretty legitimate...but what if it was all just an elaborate disguise? What if they were bandits, planning to seize the castle once he opened the gate? After all, bandits had been getting more and more common as the villages had fallen on hard times. He considered this possibility for a long while, and sighed. There really was no way around it. If they were bandits, they'd likely kill him if he refused. If they were legitimate Isran officials, he'd likely be punished for barring them entry. Besides, if they were bandits and they did seize the castle, there would likely be nobody left alive to blame him for letting them in. He stepped aside, banging his tarnished halberd on the portcullis to signal the doorman to raise it.

"Welcome to th' castle," he grunted, waving for them to enter. "I would've thought someone'd let us know if an imperial inspector were comin', but I guess that's too much to ask. Noggins, show them inside."

Noggins, a rather flat-faced lad with a dull look in his eye, led the group through the gate. Once inside, Helevisa would find herself in a rather dingy courtyard. The flowerbeds that lined the path were overgrown with weeds, and the cobbles themselves clearly had not been swept recently. The door to the keep opened, and a tall, grey-haired woman strode out to meet her. It was clear from the lines etched into her face that she had not smiled in a long while, and Noggins flinched when she spoke, as though expecting to be scolded.

"An imperial envoy," she said, eyeing Helevisa suspiciously. "To what do I owe the pleasure? We've kept up on our taxes, and I hadn't heard any news about an impending war. I suppose I have little choice but to welcome you in, although you'll forgive me if we don't throw a feast in your honor. I am Lady Iliana Crema, but I'm sure you knew that already."

Lady Crema's face tightened as she scrutinized Helevisa, eyeing her like a cook might eye a moldy biscuit. There was suspicion in her gaze, but her expression was predominantly one of disdain. Who did this inspector think she was, marching in demanding to be shown around? After a long moment, she sighed and turned to head inside, waving a hand for Helevisa to follow.

"Come along, then," she said. "I suppose I haven't much of a choice, do I? I'll show you around myself, that boy is little more than a fool. Entirely unfit to rule. As you say, Lord Crema is very ill. It'd probably be best for him to not receive any visitors. I'm sure you understand."

She spat the last sentence with unveiled venom, mocking Helevisa's words as she led her into the keep. The interior of the keep was much neater than the outside, but still had an air of dinginess to it. The brass candlesticks were tarnished, the rugs were ragged, and the tapestries were undusted; all signs pointed towards a shortage of staff.

"What exactly do you need to inspect, Marchioness?" asked Lady Crema over her shoulder. "Our coffers? Making sure we're not holding out on the empress? I certainly wouldn't want her to miss any desserts on our account."

Lady Crema's lips into a thin line as she detailed the purpose of her visit. It was very clear that she was not pleased with this sudden inspection, but what could she do? To turn away an imperial inspector was to turn away the imperial crown itself, and not even she was foolish enough to do that. Such an act could be considered treason, and would be grounds for the abolition of the duchy. No, it was better to play the part of the polite but impatient host. The inspector would leave on her own eventually, even if only to go report back to that damn cat.

"We wouldn't think of imposing upon the Empress's generosity," she said, looking down at Helevisa with a contemptful sneer that only a born noble could muster. "We'll manage on our own, thank you very much. As for the legislation of the lands...well, why didn't you just say so? Come right this way, I'll lead you there myself. We mustn't waste any time, I'm sure you're very busy."

Striding down a long hallway, she turned a corner and led Helevisa into a dark, cramped room. Opening the curtains, Helevisa would find herself in what looked to be a small, incredibly cluttered library. The bookshelves that lined the walls were full to bursting, and every table and flat surface was covered in dusty tomes and stacks of loose papers. Piles of paper littered the floor, making navigation of the room difficult.

"Feel free to look around," said Lady Crema, giving the inspector a smug smirk. "These are the laws of the land. Unfortunately, our last bookkeeper was halfway through rearranging it before his heart suddenly gave out. We haven't had the time to reorganize everything, what with our lord's illness. I'm sure you'll manage, though. You seem like a smart lass."

A young man poked his head in the door, glancing at the two women in the room. Too clean to be a servant boy, his boyish face was set in the refined serenity of an aristocrat. His eyes seemed to light up as he spotted Helevisa, gaze flying to the imperial insignia she wore.

"Ah, who is this?" he asked. "Lady Crema, is that an imperial inspector? What might she be doing here?"

"That's none of your business, boy," said Lady Crema, her face twisting with distaste as she made a shooing motion with her hand. "Begone with you. She'll be gone as soon as her inspection is complete."


The young man ignored her, turning his attention instead to Helevisa.

"Inspector," he said. "What a lovely surprise. Can I offer you anything to eat or drink? You must have had a long journey. I'm Corbin Crema, son of our lat-"

He caught his stepmother's glare out of the corner of his eye, and hastily stopped himself and backtracked. 

"Ahem, son of our Lord Crema. Welcome to our castle, inspector."

Lady Crema's glare sharpened to an icy blade that would have made a lesser being wilt away into obedient silence. It was clear that she was not pleased about being dismissed in her own castle, but she nodded regardless. What could she do, when an Imperial Inspector's words held the same weight as orders from the throne itself?

"Very well, Inspector," she said, her voice frigid with condescension. "I shall be nearby. I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding me if you need me. You seem to be good at poking around. Corbin, I expect nothing but the utmost propriety. Please try not to embarrass me."

She swept out of the room, the door slamming heavily behind her. As soon as it shut, Corbin let out a sigh of relief.

"So you're the inspector, then," he said. "Were you sent by the Empress? I assume she got my letter. Please help me. You see how this is, the state of the town and castle. That woman is driving us to ruin, and refuses to let my father rest. She continues to bring in doctors to keep up the macabre charade that he is still alive, each one more deranged than the last. Nobody's soul could move on with their body continually being poked and prodded like that. The only authority that she'd be forced to answer to is the imperial throne. I'm begging you, certify my father's death and allow me to ascend to the head of the castle."

Corbin sighed, slumping down heavily in a dust-covered chair. As the cloud of dust billowed up around him, he buried his face in his hands, suddenly looking far older than his age. It was a long moment before he spoke again, his voice was weak.

"The doctors," he repeated. "Where do I begin? The first few seemed reasonable enough. The latest ones, though...the one last month was nearly too drunk to stand up and smelled of wet feathers. The one after that..."

He shuddered, clutching at his face until his knuckles turned white. 

"That man...no, that thing was horrifying. I don't even know if it was human. I never saw its face, only a mask...and he wanted to touch everything. I don't know why that woman hired him, and I don't know what he did in that room with my father's corpse for the hours he was in there. We don't know where he went, either. I don't know where any of them went. I'll help you any way I can, Investigator, but I'm not sure how much I can do."

Straightening up, he looked her in the eye, his face lined with exhaustion.

"Couldn't we just go to see my father's corpse and put this whole matter at rest? That seems like the easiest course of action to me."