TIME: the seventh of the tenth month; late evening LOCATION: castle tyrholm; kitchen STATUS: closed to @shadowrcith
Another day had come and gone, and Kithri had retained her freedom in the King’s court. Or at the very least, the version of freedom she held onto as one of the King’s favored trained dogs -- 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. Valeria’s 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 -- and in her opinion, fear indicated guilt.
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 -- and she doubted the ability of any would-be ally to save her from death. Her survival rested upon another falling victim to the executioner’s sword.
The mage had never much been in the business of gossip, but she knew the kitchen and it’s 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 King’s 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 -- but Kithri could not allow the opportunity to fade without any attempt.
“Wraith,” she greeted -- 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. “I am surprised the King would allow his confidantes to drift so far from his side.”