The Strangers in the Palace (Closed)(Fantasy)

“I am not a child,” Arquis mumbled. He took the bowl and settled it on his lap. It was lucky he couldn’t feel his legs; otherwise, it might burn a tad. “And I am not completely useless. I can feed myself perfectly fine.”

He stared down at the soup for a moment, silent. His reflection was marred by carrot chunks, diced onion, and floating bits of celery. Aromatic steam wafted up from the thin yellow broth. He lifted his spoon. Brought it to his lips. Paused. Blew on it. Paused again. Swallowed it, pulled a face, and set the spoon down.

“I hope you don’t think me too spoiled. All of the chefs I could ever want, ingredients and spices from all over the world, and I… I have trouble with it.”

He watched Arquis quietly, picking up the vegetable tart and taking a bite. They shook their head a little. "No, it's alright." They said softly. "Just, do try and eat the soup? You haven't eaten anything in over 24 hours, and you need to keep your strength up." He didn't want Arquis to die of malnutrition. Soup was light enough that Arquis would likely be fine.

Arquis nodded, lifting the spoon again. The second spoonful was easier; it always was. He couldn’t really taste the flavor, but the heat of it was admittedly quite nice. It warmed him from the inside out.

He made it through about half the bowl before letting the spoon’s handle drop. When he spoke, his words were weak and laced with weariness. “I think that is as much as I can take.”

There was a fast knock on the door. Barely two seconds after it sounded, a familiar figure barged in: Quirisa. She was proudly boasting a black eye and a new scar through her eyebrow that was at least an inch long.

“Bard. Brother.” Quirisa gave them each a tilt of her head. “Good to see you both survived the night. I would stay and chat, but Muria’s got me here on errand duty. There’s been a change of plans. She says that the bard’s free to go.”

Rin's gaze flicked from sibling to sibling, a touch confused. "The snow hasn't melted enough." he pointed out. "I cannot really… leave." and he didn't quite want to. Part of them wanted to stay here, with Arquis. "So I'm not sure I quite understand."

“Nah, not leave the Palace. Just him. She says you’re no longer stuck with him, basically. She’s putting someone else on watch.” She adjusted the loose fur coat that was swishing around her shoulders and cleared her throat. The blue-black shine of her bruised eye looked angry in the morning light. “I did some investigating overnight. Someone actually confessed. But we don’t know enough at this point to tell the whole story, so keep it hush-hush, yeah?”

“Alright.” Arquis twisted his hands together and stared at his blankets, willing his expression blank. “It is probably for the best. You should spend at least some of your time at the estate relaxing, Rin.”

Quirisa’s good brow shot up at the nickname, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she crossed her arms and leant back against the wall, waiting to take Rin to their room.

Rin raised an eyebrow faintly at the word "confessed". He wasn't quite sure he actually believed that, but… he wasn't going to question it, either. "I see." they replied. They finished their tart, standing from the bed and brushing his hands on his shirt. "I'll… be on my way, then." they gave Arquis a quick bow, then headed towards the door.

Quirisa followed them out, slamming the door shut behind her. Her undamaged eye was trained on him, and her lips curled into an uneven smirk as she matched their stride. She looked like a beast stalking prey: confident in her capabilities and skin, bearing scars from successful battles, and most importantly, ready to pounce.

“So.” She playfully poked her tongue into her cheek. “What’s on the agenda for today? Now that you’re off nursing duty, you’re bound to have a lot of free time.”

"First I'm going to bathe." Rin replied, not looking at her. "Then, I am going to play some music." He didn't add anything else. They really didn't think it was any of her business, what he was planning on doing, so they weren't going to tell her. Plus, they weren't even sure what they were going to do, so he didn't really have a plan in the first place.

Quirisa scowled—actually scowled—and stuck her hands in her pockets. “That sounds kinda boring. No offense. You could do something fun, like watching me prank guests. It’s pretty funny. Or you could help me out with something. Something important.”

She skirted in front of them and stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Listen. I barely know you, and I doubt you like me. That’s fine. But I know you like him, and I’m willing to bet you’ll help me with this if you know it’ll benefit him.” She cocked her head to the side. “I could also pay you.”

They stopped when she did, raising his eyebrows a little bit at her. "First, tell me what it is. I'm not promising to do anything until I know what I would be doing." they crossed their arms loosely, studying the young woman. As far as he knew, she had no reason to lie to them… so she was likely telling the truth about whatever this was.

Quirisa leaned in close, tucked their hair behind his ear, and purred, “I need you to help me break into Muria’s room.” She lingered for a moment and then pulled back, casually glancing around to make sure nobody had seen or heard. When she saw the coast was clear, she went on in a low tone.

“You remember I mentioned that guy that confessed? There’s something wrong about him. People don’t confess to near murder after a day, no matter how guilty they feel. It takes time and pressure. That’s how these things go.

“Anyways. He was the only person I interrogated that knew what had happened. He knew about the infection, and he told me about this whole plan that he had. His ability is sickness related, so, like, he can give people whatever infection he wants. It seems perfect. But I think it’s too perfect. It’s too neatly organized. The plan, the confession. That’s when I started to think—who would have the power to arrange such a thing? Who would be suspected last? The head of the family.

“I know it seems crazy, but it makes sense. She would know when he was planning a party. She would have the connections to kick the whole thing into action. She has enough money to cover it all up. The only thing I can’t figure out is why she’d do it. Why Arquis specifically? She’s rich, so she doesn’t need the insurance money. She’s practically famous, so she doesn’t need the attention. She doesn’t have any reason to want him out of the picture.

“That’s why I‘ve gotta do this, and it’s also why I need you onboard. I need someone to watch my back while I look. I can turn invisible for a while, but not for that long. If she’s coming back, I need to know.” She met his eyes. “If there’s any sort of proof, it’ll be in her room. I’ve just gotta find something. A financial record, a planner, or- well, I don’t know. I’ve just gotta find it. Are you in?”

Rin stared at her for a long, long moment. "First I need you to explain something: why are all of you so afraid of your mother?" he knew that they might not get an answer for that question, but it seemed a relevant one to him. "And why do you think she would kill her own son?" he tapped his fingers against his arm silently, contemplating all of this, everything that Marquisa had said of Muria, the way Arquis grew so tense and frightened at any mention of her.

“I’m not afraid of her,” she insisted, her good eye flashing with anger. She huffed out a breath and glared down the hall at nothing. Her gaze softened fractionally. “Arquis is, though. And Marsi is a little, too. Not as bad. I don’t really get it. I don’t like her, yeah, but I’m not scared of her like they are.”

Footsteps echoed from nearby. She tensed and waited for them to fade.

“I think it’s cause of her ability. I don’t really know what it is—she’s never told me—but Arquis mentioned something about it once when he was drunk. Said he was glad I didn’t have hers. I asked what he meant, but he wouldn’t answer. Whatever it is, it’s apparently pretty bad.

“As for why she’d want to hurt Arquis, it’s like I said. I don’t really know. It’s just- I hate it, but her and I are similar. We find ways to get what we want. And if she wanted him dead, well, I think she could do it.”

"And what does she want that would…" he trailed off, knowing that he wasn't going to get an answer right now. "Sorry. I'm just…I don't understand what the motive could be." he frowned very slightly. "I just..I fail to see how killing or incapacitating Arquis could get her anything worthwhile." they rubbed their face, thinking for a long moment. "But I'll help."

“Good. C’mon.”

Quirisa took Rin by the hand and began to pull them in the direction of her room. It was about a five minute walk, but she didn’t stop once. When they were there, she kicked open the door and pushed him inside.

Her room couldn’t be more different from her brother’s. Her king sized bed was an absolute wreck of pillows and about five different blankets. Towering over it was a massive wardrobe that could barely stay shut. In the corner of the room was a lopsided, beautiful vanity set that was covered with knickknacks: misshapen coins, cracked hand mirrors, feathers, scraps of cloth, bow ties, miscellaneous buttons, glue bottles, heaps of makeup products, and a jar of what looked like tiny scrolls of paper.

There were also clothes strewn about everywhere. A velvet gown was slung over the back of a heater. Two mismatched heels were dangling from a curtain rod. Various scarves were thrown haphazardly over her wardrobe, and a fluffy robe was spread out on her bed.

She picked up a sheer slip dress with her foot and tossed it several inches away. Then, she flopped down on her bed, sighing softly.

“You asked about the motive. Trust me, I don’t get it either. But, uh, she has this weird thing with him. Not weird in that way,” she said hastily, “but just weird. He’ll have wine with her every now and then and won’t come out of his room for, like, hours. Whenever I ask him about it, he always gives some excuse. He was painting, or he wasn’t feeling great, or he needed a day to rest. But Arquis doesn’t rest. Ever. Those days are the only exception. I don’t know what the deal is, but I’m kinda glad for an excuse to investigate.”

Rin raised his eyebrows a little bit, standing awkwardly in the center of the room. "I see." he said slowly. "That…does not sound… right." but they still didn't know what the reasoning could be here, what the motive could be. "I hate to ask, but does it have anything to do with the rumors about what happened to your…to your father?"

Quirisa lifted her head to look at them and gestured lazily. “Go ahead and sit down somewhere. I don’t bite. Well, I do, actually, but not unless you’d like me to. Not really what we’re here for right now, though.”

She crossed one leg over the other. The question that he had asked was difficult to answer, and she took a minute trying to find a decent response.

“A lot of people spread rumors. Some people are now saying, for example, that you and Arquis are, well, y’know. Of course, other people are saying that we’re the ones having all the fun. Rumors are just rumors. Like, there have been a bunch about Dad. Some think he ran away with Aunt Sirisa; some think we were all in on it; some think he’s tied up in the basement; some think he was killed by Marsi’s boyfriend, for some reason. That last one’s my favorite. Makes no sense. None of them do.”

Rin took a seat, listening to her explanation quietly. "I see." he replied, taking it in. "Maybe my question was not…quite right. Would it have anything to do with what actually happened? You do not have to tell me waht happened, if you do not wish to, but…" he trailed off, running their hand through their hair.

“What do you mean, what actually happened?” she snorted. “Everyone knows the story. Aunt Sirisa came to town, and Dad and Muria let her stay. She hung around for a bit, then killed Dad in the middle of the night and made a run for it. Nobody’s seen her since. That’s really what happened.”

She sat up suddenly, rocking the bed, and frowned. “Or at least I thought it was. It’s weird that nobody ever found her, isn’t it? I mean, practically everyone was looking. But that’s not much to go on. She probably paid someone to be silent or help her or something. Or threatened them. After what she did to Dad, I’d definitely say that she has a violent streak.”

"Of course, my apologies, it was only that you didn't really answer my question and I thought you had misunderstood." he said, at the first thing she said, but then paused for the second. "Maybe she just fled the country. Kevra isn't far; I would know." he shrugged his shoulders a little bit.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m just glad she’s gone. Dealing with her and Muria would be a pain.”

She rolled off the bed onto her feet and headed over to her wardrobe, which popped open when she touched the handle. Dresses, leggings, robes, and shirts cascaded out around her ankles. She hunted around for something, muttering under her breath, before coming out victorious. Clutched in her grasp was a pair of navy pants, undergarments, and a light blue doublet. She ducked back in for a flowing white shirt, then tossed the lot at Rin.

“Go ahead and get changed. You smell like Arquis’s stupid candles, and you look like you just woke up.” Her eyes rolled almost on instinct, as if she could predict their next words. “The clothes are spares. Never worn. I keep some extras up here in case anything gets, uh, ripped or lost or whatever. You’d be surprised at how often that happens.”

Rin caught the clothing, arching their eyebrows at her. "Or I could just go to my own room and change into my own clothes." they replied. They didn't particularly wish to wear these, even if they had never been worn before. It was just a personal preference, nothing more.

She arched her head back and groaned. “I mean yeah, you could. It’d just take forever. And then you might get lost coming back, which would take even longer, or be dragged into something else and forget about the plan. You can go into the bathroom, if that’s the problem. Lock the door. I promise I won’t peek. Pinky promise.”

He sighed faintly, and headed into the bathroom to change. He did lock the door, and also used the toilet, washed his hands, and did his best to tame their hair a little bit more. Then he changed, coming out holding their old clothes. "Where should I put these?" he questioned.

Quirisa took them and swaggered over to her desk. She tore off a piece of paper from a random journal, scribbled on it, and stuck the note on their pants. It fluttered wildly as she banged open her door with her hip and dropped them on the ground.

“One of my maids will take care of that. They’ll wash them and everything. It’s awfully convenient.” She jumped back onto her bed, sending pillows catapulting everywhere. “Alright, let’s go over the game plan. We’ll go up to her room. It’s on the highest floor. You’ll stand a few doors down with that journal—there’s a huge window there. If anyone comes to ask what you’re doing, make something up about writing a song. Say the sky’s your muse or something, I don’t really care. People believe artsy junk. They’ll leave you alone.

“If it’s Muria, though, it’ll be different. I’ll be in her room, invisible. She’s bound to talk to you. When she does, try and keep her busy for as long as you can. It’ll suck, but kinda act clueless. She needs to think that you aren’t a threat. If she’s almost at the door, do something subtle, like drop the journal. That’ll let me know to get out. Any questions?”

He took the journal, nodding faintly. "Alright then." they replied, shaking his head faintly. "I think I understand what I'm doing here. But, since I'm doing this, you don't get to leave me out of the loop about whatever you find while we're doing this. I want to know what's going on."

(sorry I’ve been a bit slow to reply sometimes! I’ve got finals for the next two weeks haha)

Quirisa scooped a pillow into her arms, gave it a squeeze, and then tossed it. While it was flipping through the air, she pummeled it with her knee, sending it crashing into a wall.

“Why? I get being curious, but, like, do you really wanna be super involved in this? If it’s as serious as it sounds, it might be better to know less. You can help without knowing, if that makes sense.” Her leg was still sticking out. She kicked it in a lazy arc. “Unless you feel you’ve got a personal stake in it. Unless you feel like what I said earlier is true, and you’re really not in this for yourself as much as you are Arquis. Unless… well. Maybe not all the rumors I mentioned are false, huh?”

(it's alright! No worries :) )

He narrowed their eyes at her very faintly. "The rumors are false." he said first. "I simply wish to know. And, while I understand it could place me in danger, I want to know what's going on." they ran their hands through their hair, studying her silently.

Quirisa looked back at him, her expression guarded. The black of her bruised eye was almost as dark as her hair. The slash through her eyebrow had leaked a single drop of startlingly red blood down her cheek.

“No need to get all huffy.” She said finally. “I didn’t mean to offend you or whatever. I just, like, don’t know. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you, uh, y’know. But, yeah, nah, I get it. You’re curious. I’m pretty curious, too.”

They nodded slightly. "Right. Well. Shall we get going, then? Or are we waiting for something to happen first?" they asked. They were not quite sure how to behave around Quirisa; so many of their encounters with her had just been… strange.