The King's chambers were a starch white, ivory pillars forming the pathway to the throne. Cathedral ceilings and high, arched windows allowed the massive room to be filled to the brim with light, but in the darkness of the early morning, it was eerily dark. The first lights of dawn were starting to creep in from the east, but it was still hard to see without the candles being lit.

And yet, the King had an audience, and the angered voices that filled the halls bounced off the high ceilings and reverberated with a vengeance.

"He's missing, Richard, and I'll have none of this horse shit about this being a normal raid," Lord McCallum of the markets raved, seething.

"Rest assured, my lord, we'll see to it that this is thoroughly investigated," the king repeated wearily. Though the King, Richard Vick had never dealt with face-to-face meetings, more concerned with where the money in his kingdom was going and how his armies were faring. His wife, to his right in her own throne, was more of a people's person, and was currently assessing the situation silently. "My Captain of the Guard has his best people on it right now."

"And a few soldiers are going to solve this, eh?" McCallum challenged, beginning to pace. "My son is heir to my fortune, Richard, this couldn't have been a coincidence. They knew he was going to be in town that day."

Ser Carlton Lassiter, off to the side, shifted on his feet, the plates of his armor clinking softly in the empty room. A scowl painted on his features, he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword as a warning. It was a gesture that went largely ignored; the Queen shot him a dark glance, but otherwise didn't make much note of it.

"There's nothing I can tell you, McCallum," Richard growled. "We will see to it. If you are not happy with how I'm running things, you can investigate yourself. I know how eager you are to leave your estate."

His voice was like ice, the finality in his tone unmistakable. Still fuming, McCallum gave the three of the nobles his dirtiest glance and swept out of the room, his clock billowing out behind him. Everyone in the room heaved a huge sigh as the door swung shut behind him. Richard jumped to his feet, wearing only his nightclothes with his cloak thrown over his shoulders.

"I'm going to see if I can catch a few more hours of sleep," he mumbled. "My queen?"

"I'll be right with you," Karen answered, inclining her head toward him. He hesitated, but shuffled off without her. She approached Lassiter, who stood waiting.

"You know what you have to do," she said to him, and he nodded, his jaw tight.

"McCallum's not going to leave us alone, especially not after that gracious send-off," he said. "I have O'Hara over there now. Can you do with one less advisor today? I know how busy you are."

She smiled lightly. "I'll be fine, ser. I'll send for you if I truly need your sword." Without another word, her footsteps silent in the chamber, Queen Karen made her way out of the audience chamber, her captain behind her. The doors opened with a loud groan of protest, and shut with a slam behind them.

"So that meeting went well, didn't it?"

The voice came from nowhere. Instinct kicking in, Lassiter whipped around, his sword in hand and the tip rammed into the chin of the man speaking. Sheepishly, Shawn Spencer offered the captain a cocky grin.

"Damnit, Spencer, what do you want?" Lassiter snarled, lowering the sword only so it didn't touch the soothsayer's skin. Spencer took a step back so his back was against the wall, but it put more distance between the two.

"I want in on this investigation."

"I don't have time for this." He sheathed his sword and glanced warily at Karen, who was eyeing Shawn with interest.

"And what makes you think you're so worthy, soothsayer?"

"Well, I am a soothsayer, am I not?" he said, keeping an eye on the silver scabbard hooked onto Lassiter's waist. "I can see things, I can help."

"Prove it to me."

"I'm afraid the spirits don't work like that, Your Grace," Spencer said, almost sounding embarrassed, but after a beat, he added, "but I suppose they can make an exception in the presence of the Queen."

His hands shot to his temples. Lassiter crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, while the Queen simply raised an eyebrow. "Ser Lassiter's a nobleman of the north, though he tries to hide it. He rarely has his armor polished, but the armory boys insist on polishing it at least one a week, usually on the second day. His wife left him some time ago, and he's a middle child."

"Is that all true, Ser Carlton?" Karen asked, turning to her captain. "I thought your wife was in the west on a business trip."

"She's in the west, but not on business," he muttered. Unnecessarily, he scratched a fleck of dirt on his armor, not meeting anyone's eye. Spencer took his resignation as a chance to continue.

"And you, Your Grace, if I may continue, are from this fair city. You worry constantly about your people, and were desperate to prove yourself before the council."

"As most queens are when they are first inducted into the royal family," she defended. "You can do better."

Never one to panic, Spencer quickly recovered with, "How much better is knowing that you are currently with child?"

The Queen visibly blanched; Lassiter glanced over to her, his eyes wide. "Your Grace?"

"Well done, Lord Spencer," she said lightly, her hand absently drifting over her belly. "I've only told the king and the gods."

"And what's the chance your 'visions' aren't just commoner gossip?" challenged Lassiter, his momentary awe having vanished. "It's not hard to guess I'm from the north, nor that I'm a middle child."

"One can only trust another man," Spencer said absently, examining the state of his fingernails. "The spirits work in mysterious ways, ser."

At the look on Karen's face, Lassiter protested, "Your Grace, surely you can't see any merit in this fool's proposal?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Ser Carlton."

"And McCallum threatening out kingdom with war over his son and an accusation none can prove correct calls for a jester working among my men?"

"Don't forget you're talking to a queen," Karen warned, and Lassiter swallowed hard, instinctively standing up straighter. Addressing Spencer, she said, "Report to the stables this afternoon. I'll have you meet with my adviser; we could use you around the castle if it comes to it."

"My father the adviser, or the pretty one?" Spencer asked without missing a beat. "I do hope it's the latter."

Lassiter rolled his eyes, taking a step towards the queen. "I'll take you back to your bedroom, Your Grace."

"I think I can manage myself, Ser Carlton," she replied lightly. As soon as she rounded the corner down the corridor, Lassiter fixed Spencer with a dirty look.

"You may have her fooled, boy," he said in a low voice, "but rest assured, I do not trust you and will not let you deter this investigation in any way. You hear?"

"Loud and clear, ser," he shot back, "but keep in mind you're talking to the new castle soothsayer, appointed by the queen herself."

Lassiter gave him one last sneer before stalking off after the queen. As soon as he was gone, Spencer let out a breath, leaning against the wall behind him. "I've got to stop pissing off powerful men," he muttered.

--

With three grumbling men behind him, Lady Juliet O'Hara set off at a swift trot for the McCallum estate. It was first dawn, and along with the residents of the Sun Kingdom, the land seemed to be still as well.

"I don't even see why we need to go out this early," he heard them grumbling, their voices carrying in the still air. "I had to leave a real beaut all alone and cold in my bed for this Lord McCallum chump."

"I'm sure she wasn't sorry to see you go," the other chuckled, and the men continued to jest for most of the ride. Juliet rolled her eyes, gripping her reigns tighter and urging her horse to hurry.

It was common knowledge that Lord McCallum had enough money to hire his own army, one massive enough to decide the fate of the whole kingdom. He could either crush them with little effort, or help them win a war in a landslide. He sent word to the castle in the dead of night that his son had gone missing, and Queen Vick had sent an urgent and very annoying pigeon to her Captain of the Guard to check it out as soon as he could. Ser Carlton Lassiter, the Captain, in turn showed up at her chambers mere moments after receiving the letter and told her to set off at first light with any soldier she could find.

It wasn't even that the noble families of the Kingdom cared much for the McCallums - their enterprise hadn't come with no offense to the others. Back alley deals and fire-forged alliances built the estate from the ground up. They even operated on the very edge of Sun Kingdom territory, just near the river marking the border. Lady O'Hara herself was of the south, from the king's city itself, and didn't know much of the McCallums, but she was willing to check it out if it meant the kingdom might get wiped out.

The scene that awaited her at the marketplace was messy.

Wooden stalls were still smoldering, bodies lay scattered everywhere. The produce and goods being offered were tossed this way and that, and blood was caked into the dirt. Her horse instinctively stopped, whinnying softly and nervously pawing at the ground.