This little ditty came from “anonymous” tips (paid, of course) or watcher reports. All of them are technically very true, but not Directory true until I fill out a forest of paperwork. The first item is one that the Publics think they understand, but they never will. Everything is so, so creepy and complicated when it comes to this House. I can only reveal so much, even now, because the story remains indefinitely sensitive.

To start, I have to say, the Directory’s medical safety department has an obnoxious amount of reports pouring in every month. Anonymous mail-ins flying back and forth about what some Old Name has given to another person, of Name or not. Hepatitis, common sex diseases, and so on, but it is something altogether different when it’s midrot. When it is the rot, whether gotten by sex or by shared tableware, almost no one wants to come forward as this posting will show.

I was called initially concerning the escort service. The Directory learned of it by a write-in tip, no name attached. This sort of business is very illegal in Palmetto and is tried under the Anti-Traffick Protocol regardless of how consenting anyone is. I’m given an address over the phone and defensive weapons authorization, for some anxious reason.

I pull up to the Cymbelline Estate and immediately start cursing. I’d been so caught up with the intrigue of the assignment I either hadn’t really listened or hadn’t put it together myself. The House of Cymbelline; old, proud, and the weirdest fucking family of all the Old Names. They are all strange, every member, and every time I’ve had to meet with them they direct me to the playhouse they own to wine and dine me. They do it to unsettle me, to shift the tone to a tenor more comfortable for them. And it works, but I would and will never admit it.

A knock on my window startles me from my anxious meditation. A pale young man with a face sharp as a pencil is snapped up in one of those unbearably shiny tuxedos that the staff to the House of Cymbelline are given and required to wear. I step out of the car. He says my name as a question and I nod. He’s likely been told that I’ve already done this song and dance before. He simply sweeps his hand as he turns to walk to his assigned town car. The funny part of this is I could be at the playhouse in five minutes if we walked through the estate. By driving these Highland roads made to curve and wind around the massive land holdings of the old rulers, it’ll take us at least thirty minutes. I’m sure the valet will choose the most scenic route for my trouble.

The patriarch of the House died a few years ago under odd circumstances. The case was closed but hardly resolved. A major hang-up with the case was that Madame Thesia, the matriarch widow, had petitioned the Directory for a divorce, not even a year before. Her husband has been cheating on her. It wasn’t the first time but in her interview, she told the Interrogators that she was finally tired of all the lies and she felt he’s maybe never been honest with her about anything from the time they began the court rituals. Being an Old Family there was almost no chance of divorce being granted, but her husband’s behavior was becoming more public, which the Directory does not like. That gave her a shot at some financial support and a piece of separated property, but Mortimer would need to agree to separate officially.

The report read that Bella had thought his cheating was confined to just a fling here and there. She came to find he had been enjoying the secret swinger’s clubs of Roark, and other hedonistic pursuits as much as he could and that he was not very selective in either his partners or their gender. As these revelations came out Thesia went to an Examiner because she hadn’t been feeling well and was carrying terrible levels of stress. While there she decided to get a full blood analysis as well to find out if she’d contracted anything from her husband’s lifestyle. The Examiners have all these quips and one that’s really popular is “No news is good news” when it comes to bloodwork results. The tragedy was that Thesia got a lot of news and it was very bad news. Not only had she contracted the rot, but she was also pregnant.

Mortimer built himself a fortress of lawyers. The case stalled until it went completely stale. Then came a day, some months later, Mort descended the front stair of his estate, and mid-stroll to the front gate he dropped to his knees and died. The Examiners couldn’t find anything unnatural about it so all the cases were closed and his death was credited to the rot he presumably had passed onto Thesia.

I hadn’t known so much about it before, what I didn’t know was filled out by a wire I received just before I came here. The escorting rumors are a problem enough, but with Thesia’s unfortunate condition it is a threat to public safety. The valet pulls into the private garage and suddenly I’m so nervous I feel like I’m starting puberty over again. I’m guided to a narrow hallway that ends with a grey curtain. I wait for the valet to lead but when I turn I find that he has quietly, but quickly, abandoned me. I go to the curtain, assuming if I make a wrong turn someone will turn up to aggressively point me in the right way. I pass through the curtain and nearly go dizzy. I’d been expecting some storage closet but found myself standing in an upper theater box. I’m not normally afraid of heights, but I certainly don’t like being surprised by them.

From the balcony, I can hear music crackling from somewhere backstage. My steps are shakier when I go back to the empty hall. I look for more doors and find only a service stair. I follow it down before I find a landing with a door someone stenciled “backstage” on in another era. The backstage is just as deserted so I follow the tinny music. It leads me to another door, a big faded star from the same lost era. I give a polite warning knock before opening this one.

I almost laugh this time. On the boudoir one of those old-time phonographs is rattling out the dingy music. There’s a note placed on a plate with my name lettered prettily across the top.

“Sorry to have missed you darling. Something has come up with my dear son’s wedding and your people have summoned me. Do re-schedule. The exit will be to the left.

X Thesia”