"I know Lord Kel wasn't so remiss in his duties that he left you completely ignorant of propriety," I said stopping Leian before she could walk away.

"Alys is part of my staff. A member of my House. Her words may have been inappropriate, but that is for me to decide. You are levels and a Rank higher than her. That slap you found inconsequential may have done real harm.

"You owe Alys recompense. She is mine to punish if I deem punishment is merited. Don't assume like your family has, that because I am a newly Ranked Prince that I am completely ignorant of protocol or too blind and stupid to retaliate.

"If you had done this to any other Ranked staff, you would have been subject to a duel. I wonder if I am going to have to completely wipe out House Kel before I am given any peace?"

Honestly, I didn't think the altercation was that serious, but Caraid was adamant that I could not and should not ignore the slap. I would have to chat with Alys about proper conduct and how I expected my staff and House members to comport themselves, but that would be done in private.

By confronting Leian publicly, I reassured those who bore witness that I would protect those that had sworn to follow me. By not responding, Caraid informed me, I may actually be breaking my sworn Oath to protect them.

"You will find Jennie to discuss what monetary damages you will pay. I expect no less than a year's wages as recompense for your actions.

"And leave my people alone. If you have a problem, find me. Or the next time you attack one of mine, I will meet you in the dueling circle," I declared.

It was late before I finally managed to get to sleep.

After dinner, we'd gone outside to enjoy the evening. Once the sunset, we realized we had made camp next to a wisp colony. The sight of these gentle creatures dancing in the wind was enticing. The effect on those gathered was soothing since the incident between Leian and Alys there had been a tension that permeated the actions and discussions of staff and Vassal alike.

The colorful and innocent beings that danced in delight as the sunset helped alleviate that tension. Wisps were floating balls of multi-colored light, blinking like lightning bugs, the colors a mating ritual that was performed nightly. When one of the creatures was brave enough to land on my arm, I managed a closer inspection as he sat patiently and allowed me to examine him.

It wasn't an amorphous ball of light and energy, instead, a small winged creature, not fully humanoid, not fully insect, a blending of the two, was generating the light fields. Each flutter of the wing created rivers of magic, magic that formed patterns and glowed. This magic was what caused the ball of light. It was an energy field that protected the diminutive figure and allowed delicate wings of gossamer to give lift and force to flight. Without this magic, these creatures would be landlocked.

They were intelligent and individual. And were considered Sidhe, not an animal. They had their own government, their own rituals, and their own mythologies and histories. They were Danu's children and were blessed with grace and beauty. A strange type of beauty with their insect features, just as butterflies could be beautiful, so too were they.

But their gentleness could be deadly. They were tricksters. They took delight in leading the unwary astray. Tales of those lost in the woods or children beguiled and attracted to their light proliferated. For all their gentleness and human-like appearance, they used the dead and decaying to lay eggs. Eggs that became the next generation of Wisp.

The little man that landed on my arm was delighted when I had one of the staff retrieve some milk and honey, lapping it up confidently, manners impeccable until he'd finished and let lose the loudest belch I'd ever heard.

How such a small and delicate creature could generate such noise was startling and awe-inspiring.

I'm not sure who the first person to laugh was, but it was contagious, and soon the entire field, Vassals and staff, were laughing uproariously. It seemed to be a signal to those gathered as wines and ales were opened and distributed.

Instruments were fetched and soon boisterous and spontaneous music accompanied the wisp in counterpoint. Melodies began that called to you. Dissonant at first, but quickly symphonic and swelling. Music that touched your soul and required you to release inhibition.

Dance! The melody demanded.

Sing! The harmonies pleaded.

This is what life is for.

The party, the first I'd enjoyed since I'd arrived in this world lasted late into the night. This, I thought as I finally found my bed, is what life is really about. Those joyous moments that occur and have no reason. They simply are. This is what it means to be Sidhe.

I woke the next morning, sweating profusely, a great pressure holding me down. The smell of flatulence cloying and fouling the air. The bed was soaked. At first, I thought I'd had an accident while sleeping, but once I struggled to a sitting position, I discovered that I was not alone.

Sidhe wine was heady stuff, but I'd not thought I'd had that much to drink. That seemed to not be the case because I'd been joined in bed. Sometime during the night, Meala, a four-ton honey badger had managed to slip in my room. A drooling, farting, snuffling over-sized teddy bear had decided to cuddle and nominated me as the pillow.

The bed was wet from a mixture of bear slobber and Seelie sweat. The smell was fouled because honey badgers fart. A lot. How and why Meala got into my room, let alone into my bed, I was uncertain. But it seemed she'd claimed me.

As she slept, snored, and farted next to me. she looked more like the giant teddy bear, a teddy bear that was angry at being woken and at her pillow for dislodging her. It is hard to argue with the designs of a four-ton honey badger. A honey badger equipped with six sets of weapons as hard and sharp as any steel knife.

It took a bit of pushing, shoving, and complaining to get her to release me. Ril and Gil rushing into the room as I protested, complained, and eventually begged Meala to let go, didn't help matters.

Especially when they stopped in shock and then burst out in laughter, signaling others that something strange was going on in my chambers. Their laughter managed to attract other people; it seemed the entire House. And soon my room had been invaded by a host of people as I struggled, dressed only in my underwear, to extricate myself from a badger hug.

I may have seen the humor in the situation, if I weren't practically naked, and if it were someone else. And if the smell wasn't so vomit-inducing.

Finally.

Finally. I was free. I escaped quickly into the restroom and had the hottest shower I could stand. Once dressed, I exited discovering Meala had been, thankfully, shepherded back to the stables, so I headed out for breakfast. Relieved that Meala had deigned to return outdoors and wouldn't be joining me at the breakfast table.

The snorts and sudden laughter that followed me the rest of the morning were embarrassing, but I bore with them in good humor. I still wish it had been someone else, and I admitted to myself, I'd have been the first to join in mocking and teasing if it had been. Nonetheless, I wasn't going to begrudge a bit of snark and laughter at my expense.

Eventually, there was nothing left but to strike camp and continue our journey.

Watching the staff dismantle the camp was a first for me and highlighted Sidhe technology and ingenuity. I hadn't seen the estate and stable being constructed so watching the ease as they were dismantled and packed up was enlightening. Magic really does make mundane tasks much easier.

A formation array was powered down, and the house and stables reacted to the lack of energy by 'folding' up. Furnishings, laundry, items, and food were automatically compartmentalized and placed into appropriate spatial storage.

A member of the Aziza colony that was still inside the room when the process began was spat out and deposited where the front door to the estate had been. It was a built-in safety protocol, a feature to detect life signs and exclude and remove those found as part of the process of packing up. The entire procedure from start to finish took less than a moment.

The little guy that hadn't exited the building before packing up began rushed to rejoin the rest of his colony, squeaking in alarm or embarrassment, I wasn't sure, but it was just one more moment of laughter that seemed to set the tone for the day as those that watched his panic laughed at his antics.

The convoy of Skimmers that had been parked and hidden behind the summoned buildings soon filled with passengers, those that had been assigned to head to the next location and set up camp, set off. Leaving those of us who were going to ride our mounts to begin the process required to saddle and mount.

Meala was wide awake and as frisky this morning as she'd been last night, requiring a few moments of scratching and a treat to settle her down so that she could be readied. The stable hand checked and rechecked everyone's work, as much for the safety of the rider as the mounts, before he would release the mounts into our care. We'd just finished and were about to set out when one of the Skimmers came speeding back.

The vehicle had barely parked before the door opened and a frenzied driver cried out in panic, "Your Highness! At the crossroad. Come quick!

"Is there a problem? Did one of the Skimmer's crash?" I asked.

"No, sir. The roads have been blocked by a body," he informed me.

"An attack?" I asked in confusion wondering what had happened up ahead.

"Not to our group," he replied. "Butler Henry is calling the Inspectors, but he sent me back to inform you of the situation."

His explanation really wasn't helping to untangle my confusion, but I promised we would follow after him. Satisfied he returned to the Skimmer and once again headed north. Motioning for the others to follow, those not mounted quickly gained their seats, and we set out.

The crossroads wasn't far and weren't exactly what I'd been expecting. Crossroads was a misnomer since there wasn't a pavement or road. But there was a clear intersection of a kind. A place where fields and forests merged into clear paths that lead east and west, and north and south. The place was barely a mile from where we'd set up camp. And as we approached the intersection, it became clearer that this wasn't an accident.

Dismounting, I walked around the outside of what could only be described as a ritual. A body butchered, chest flayed open, ribs cracked and displayed pointedly so that the murder could not be missed. This person had been eviscerated and left here. I wasn't sure if this was a warning for us, or we were just the ones to coincidentally stumble across the scene of the crime. I wasn't sure until Jennie identified the body.

"This is Alys, part of the household staff" she stated firmly, answering the questions and talking to an unfamiliar man. "I sent her ahead last night."

The poor woman's face was a wreck. Eyes had been gouged out, and without a closer examination I couldn't be sure, but it appeared her tongue had been ripped out. I had used the term ritual subconsciously when I first saw the body, and as I continued to examine the area and corpse, my first impression was justified.

Ritual murder. There was no way to ignore the signs and my certainty that this murder had meaning became firmly established. The real questions were who had murdered her and why?

I ignored those gathering into small groups gossiping and speculating, careful to remain around the outskirts of the body, and approached Henry. I'd finally managed to convince him and Brianne into accepting long-term contracts and joining my group. I still hoped to adopt them into my House. Their work in organizing and responding to my requests had been exemplary.

One of the reasons I was pleased they had decided to join my service, as Cedric had pointed out before contracts were signed, was I had been a bit too free in topics of conversation. Sharing reports, details of future plans, and sharing ideas that would allow a plethora of insights and House secrets to be exposed. I'd been to free, speaking in front of them when they weren't part of my House, and their knowledge would be beneficial to those that wanted to plant a spy amongst us.

I'd been lucky that they were honest as well as talented.

"Henry?" I said addressing him, my query opened ended but encouraging and giving him the opportunity to explain what he knew about was going on.

"Your Highness. We found the scene much as you see. If we'd have set off before the sun rose this morning, it's entirely possible we would have driven right over the unfortunate woman. Once we realized that she'd been murdered, we contacted the Constabulary with details of the event and our current location.

"The Chief-Inspector and his team arrived shortly before you. He and his team are just starting to gather information."

Thanking him, I went to introduce myself to the Inspector confused as to how he and his people could have arrived at such a remote location, so quickly.

[All Inspector teams have access to individuals versed in teleport and portal magics,] Caraid explained when I'd shared my confusion with him. [It allows for fast response when crimes in out of the way places like this occur. They are capable of locking onto the communication array signal Henry used when contacting them as a navigational target and teleport officials to that location.]

"We could have used this method of transportation to arrive at Duke A'Daoine's estate or the Capital?" I asked in confusion. "Why wouldn't we have saved ourselves the time and bother and traveled that way?"

[In an emergency, probably. But teleportation isn't a method used for normal travel. Not even the Seelie Monarchs make use of this method often. It creates weaves and permutations in the ether. And too much 'displacement' can interfere with the artificial construct that crisscrosses the atmosphere and serves as the Magical Intelligence network. It is too easy to disrupt faction communication abilities if a teleport goes wrong or is disruptive.]

[Portals that allow for travel between cities are built on land where ley lines intersect. The person or items being transmitted actually make use of these lines to travel. The person using the portal follows the path of the ley-lines minimizing disruption to the ether. It isn't a case of molecular deconstruction and reconstruction, but it is close.]

[We've found, over the years, that by traveling in this fashion, the distortion effect is negated, and large amounts of materials and goods can make use of these distribution centers to expedite commerce.]

The criminologist and forensic specialist were setting up an intricate and interlocking grid pattern of crystals to document the scene of the crime. Whatever they were doing caused the runes and lines that crisscrossed the ground and surrounded Alys' body to become visible.

Allowing those of us viewing their progress to note a discernible pattern. What looked like a circle at first, eventually solidified into two pentagrams, each slightly offset to the other and forming a decagon.

Body parts were positioned at each of the ten points that made up the pattern. Ears, Eyes, Heart, Tongue, Lungs, and Kidneys. I wasn't sure if Alys was alive through the entire process of dismemberment; I hoped not, because the person who had done this was angry.

"This was apparently a layered ritual," I heard one of the crime scene analysts say, recording his observations into a communication storage device.

"The first level was to bind sight, sound, and voice. Eyes, Ears, and Tongue It made sure the victim was not seen, not heard, and could not scream. The second layer is more intricate. This is the truly evil part of the sacrifice. Heart, Lungs, Kidneys. It made demands on the person's soul, hastening the spirit to cross-over and rejoin the reincarnation cycle."

The young man who had been speaking wasn't shy about voicing his opinion or maintaining secrecy. Maybe that was part of these teams M.O. Toss out vague suppositions to see who would respond. And it worked.

As my people heard what he'd said, more side glances and looks of suspicion began to be tossed at Leian. There was one person in our group who had been angry with Alys. One person who had been publicly humiliated. And one person who had already attacked her.

It seemed too stupid and simplistic for Leian to have done something like this. But Seelie were nothing if not certain of their superiority and creatures of emotion. It was entirely possible Leian executed this poor woman and felt entirely justified in doing so.

It was fascinating to watch, once I discovered that the people investigating were not all here, most were magic projections, holograms of the criminologist that 'walked' the area, noting rune formation, ritual components of sacrifice, and minute minutiae like body position relative to the sun and moon.

The specialists were able to conclude the time of death, manner of death, and that Alys had been awake and aware during the entire ritual. A soul spiritualist confirmed that her soul had been destroyed during the performance of the ritual, possible as part of a sacrifice to fuel the dark energies that had been expended.

There would be no chance to speak to the recently slain, no way to attain first-hand evidence and allow Alys to identify her assailant. The ability to speak to the recently dead was a drastic step forward in investigative protocols of Talahm. This ability would have solved innumerable cases on Earth.

It wasn't until the detectives began questioning witnesses to determine the motive, opportunity, and means that Leian's name began trending. Until this point, she had been the object of uncertain and wary glances, but no direct accusation had been made. Her public fight with Alys yesterday, as well, as her threat to remove Alys' tongue was too fresh in everyone's mind.

I still wasn't convinced that Leian had anything to do with this. It seemed too coincidental. Leian threatens to rip out Alys' tongue, and she is suddenly found dead with her tongue ripped out? It seemed something straight out of a 'Murder She Wrote' mystery. It seemed obvious to me that Leian was being framed and made to look like the perpetrator.

This seemed more a crime of opportunity. Someone used this ritual and Alys and used their recent argument to disguise motive and guilt. If that was the case, then it meant that someone that had camped with us last night, and been witness to that fight, was probably the murderer. A person that I had recently accepted into service.

It made me recognize the limitations of Oaths, there were ways around them, especially if a person chose to target those close to or traveling with you, instead of you. The Sidhe had eons of practice twisting Oaths when needed, walking the fine line between honoring and breaking their sworn word.

The investigation was drawing to a close when one of the pathologists moved Alys' body. Embedded in her back was a dagger. A dagger brandishing the Kel motif. Any doubt that Leian was responsible for Alys's death was dismissed at this point in most minds.

"Squire Leian," the head investigator said, focusing the attention of those remaining on him and Leian, "this dagger. Is it yours?"

Watching Leian fumble with her spatial items, searching for her dagger, her frustration and confusion became apparent. What also became apparent was that the dagger was most certainly hers.

"It appears to be. Mine is missing," she clarified.

"When was the last time you are certain you had your dagger?"

"I was carrying it in its sheath yesterday. I'm not sure if the dagger was actually in the sheath when I disrobed last night or not. I was tired and paid little notice."

"Others have mentioned the argument you had with Commoner Rice yesterday. Let's be blunt. Did you kill her?"

"No," Leian answered, unequivocally and decisively.

"You are aware that truth spells may be used to determine your innocence when you reach your destination? There is no point in hiding the truth. Your involvement will be discovered."

"What would be the point in not confessing?" She asked. "If I killed her, I'd admit it. Granted we are in unclaimed territory, but even if we were in Fief Kel, there is no law against murder or killing."

"You are correct," he agreed. "Killing is not a crime."

"But.

"While the Sidhe ignore a lot. While they do condone and allow murder and torture. There is more than murder here. The murder might not cause you to disavow or refuse to answer questions, but in this case, it isn't the death of Commoner Rice that is at issue, as the manner of her death. That might present problems.

"Ritual sacrifice is prohibited and proscribed. And a ritual that destroys the soul is so heinous that execution is the only remedy for those that would practice those tenets. No matter the species. No matter where. No matter the Rank. Nothing can absolve anyone who would conduct such practices.

"You would have a motive to deny your involvement.

“It is likely you are telling the truth and did not land the killing blow. This way you could claim and be honest in your declaration when you declared you did not kill her. So, let me ask instead. Did you have anything to do with the victim's death, torture, or evisceration?"