TIME: the seventh of the tenth month; late evening LOCATION: castle tyrholm; kitchen STATUS: closed to @shadowrcithâ
Another day had come and gone, and Kithri had retained her freedom in the Kingâs court. Or at the very least, the version of freedom she held onto as one of the Kingâs favored trained dogs â permitted to move about the castle as she pleased, and yet wary to leave the grounds for favor of the city below.
Though she had not been arrested and charged with the assassination attempt, she was nonetheless wise to the accusatory glances and suspicion-filled whispers which clung to her like a second skin. Valeriaâs suggestion that the mage avoid unnecessary movement and call upon her allies was not baseless, even if Kithri had chosen to ignore the caution. In the mind of the inferni mage, if she remained hidden in her chambers it would signal to the court that she was fearful â and in her opinion, fear indicated guilt.Â
Despite this, Kithri also knew that in the absence of a caught assassin, the blame would undoubtedly be shifted to her. The nature of the attempt made it all too easy to point to her without the burden of evidence â and she doubted the ability of any would-be ally to save her from death. Her survival rested upon another falling victim to the executionerâs sword.
The mage had never much been in the business of gossip, but she knew the kitchen and itâs hearth to be the source of it in the castle. If there was some whisper of another wanting to see the King dead, it was likely to be heard there of all places. With little other recourse, Kithri made the journey and perched herself close to the roaring fire: any onlooker who drew too close would note the way the flames seemed to gravitate towards her with an undoubted magnetism.
She had not lingered for long when she caught sight of the Kingâs spymaster drift through the space: the sight of them caused a lurch in her gut, and the fire beside her briefly engorged before settling. Of any, Kithri expected Wraith to have some knowledge of the investigation and any additional suspects thought to be involved in the attempted assassination. Their willingness to provide any of the information they had was another issue entirely â but Kithri could not allow the opportunity to fade without any attempt.
âWraith,â she greeted â more familiar than she cared to be with most, and more familiar than the dynamic between them would suggest. And yet, there was an inherent familiarity to them as beings who had outlived their stories. âI am surprised the King would allow his confidantes to drift so far from his side.â
Kithri was the first person they sought out, after their masked informantâs message, after they opted to steal away from Septimusâ confidence for another day in favor of finding more targeted information to provide him with instead of sending him on a witch hunt that would only hurt more people than it helped. She was difficult to find, moreso than usualâhiding, perhaps, or maybe just following an irregular pattern, finding herself in the kitchens which they so often frequented themself in search of the same thing they always went there seeking: information.Â
   âAs am I, but fortunately for the both of us, he cannot seem to stop me. Itâs as if I slip out of his grasp every time he tries to keep me there.â
There was a humor in their voice they did not feel. Kithri has been who they had sought out, but they did not like the reason. It wasnât a secret of any kind that there were those in this court who believed her involved, and while was not one of those who thought it the case, it didnât mean that they understood what she was likely feeling any less. They knew the cold sting of prejudice, knew what it looked like when every passing face thought you a monster. For them, so visible and so strange, there was little reprieve, but Kithri at least, they assumed, could sometimes pretend that other people saw her as something other than a threat.
The likelihood that she knew anything, about the Lowtown cult the masked stranger had mentioned, wasnât high; she spent less time outside of court than they did, and it wasnât as if the local inferni had some sort of social group that met up at regular intervals, as so many who believed they were all always conspiring seemed to think. But not only was it a better place to start than any other avenue they currently had; they also owed it to her, to know just how far onto the proverbialâand, perhaps, the literalâchopping block her head truly was at the moment.Â
   âIf I could have a moment of your confidence, though, it would be much appreciated.â Iâm trying to clear your name, as well as my own, they wanted to say, but they would never be so bold as to admit it aloud. Even some sort of allegiance, between the Kingâs two pet inferni, could be seen on its own as treacherous now that Septimus had a mind to see inferni blamed for his narrowly avoided death.













