Chapter Text
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Kronii starts the morning off by poisoning her mother.
The kitchen staff loves her. They offer her cheery smiles. The old women who manage the ovens greet her warmly. It’s a comfortable place. She isn’t even doing it subtly. As if she’s making a casual breakfast, she will go out to the garden and fetch willow thistle fronds. She takes them back with her to put into the medicinal tea she brews. She puts it on the kettle.
Nobody questions her.
(Everyone wants this for her)
She makes sure to grab a biscuit as she walks back into the hallways of the manor. A guard stationed in the main hall straightens when she comes by. She doesn’t blame the poor guy. He’d be standing there listlessly till the end of his days. This house was too far away from cities or populated towns to fear enemies at its gates. It’s nestled up on the cliffside of Raordyn, hugging the lichen-thick Wallow Woods. It’s a gloomy forest. The manor, despite this, is well cared for. The rich exterior is dusted primly by the maids. A man-servant rushes by with a mop, but he does bow to her as she passes by.
In her younger years, this was a busy place. Lords and ladies from other counties would visit. Performers, grand balls, parties, it was everything her father catered for.
(She misses him)
She holds her dress up in one hand, balancing the saucer of tea in the other. She ascends the stairs to the second floor. Tapestries of blue flowers greet her. The banner of her house, a snake eating a sword wreathed in flowers, is dotted along the walls. Flower vases behold power and beauty. Pillars of gold and blue frame around a bedroom door. She stops in front of it and knocks.
A nursemaid opens it. She has a face weathered with age, but a smile that curls sadly upon her face when she sees Kronii.
“Young miss.” She greets.
“I brought mother tea,” Kronii says. It’s an everyday script for her. “May I see her?”
(Please say no)
The nursemaid shakes her head, “I’m sorry, miss, but she needs her rest. I’ll make sure she has some of that when she wakes.” She takes the saucer. Her eyes soften at the biscuit. “Oh, she is so lucky to have a thoughtful daughter in these times.”
“I’m worried for her health,” Kronii states. “You said she was bound to get better?”
“Yes. Soon.” A moment where the maid takes out a handkerchief to dab at her forehead, “Miss, it’s odd. There doesn’t seem to be an underline cause for this illness.”
“You’ve said so before.”
“Yes, but- well.” The maid shakes her head, “No, I won't startle you with grim tales.”
Kronii blinks. She can’t help but smile, “Are people telling tales?”
“No, miss, it’s just a thought I had.” The maid frets. “What with the stories abound.”
“Stories?” Kronii hedges. “Tell me, are the servants passing around rumors?”
“No, nothing like that. There’s been word from Aldertok, the town through the Wallow. They said they’ve seen beasts wandering the woods of late. I just thought- it’s not unheard of, in these times of curses.”
Kronii covers her mouth with her hand thoughtfully (She’s smiling) and murmurs, “A curse? That sounds ludicrous.”
“Doesn’t it?” The maid laughs weakly. “I’m happy you think so. Let my head fly all over the place without you here to keep it in check.”
Kronii bids her farewell. When the door closes, she exhales. She feels it like a soothing balm over her soul. A release of duty, a release from a shadow hanging over her. Her back itches with phantom pain. She ignores it, lifting her skirts up as she descends the stairs. The bedrooms were all but empty above. Her mother was so far out of her wits recently that she hadn’t even taken notice of Kronii moving her room down to the first floor three months ago.
The guard in the front room stands at attention when she walks in. At the same time, the front doors open. It’s the groundskeeper and the front doorman. Both of them have a crate they’re dragging in.
“Hey!” The hall guard yelps. “Not on the carpet!”
Kronii blinks in surprise. The servants pause, staring back at her like startled deer. The crate jostles. A yipping noise from inside draws her across the room. Her servants stand at attention.
“Sorry for the inconvenience, miss.” The groundskeeper says.
“I told him not to, but he was insistent.” The doorman looks pensive about her getting close to the box. She leans forward to look. The top of it is open. Inside, she can see a small dog. Its tail is between its legs. It’s barking incessantly.
“Sorry, miss.” The doorman says.
“Why’d you bring it in?” Kronii asks. She crouches down for a better look. The dog scrambles away from her as best as it can in the box. “Hey, you scared the poor thing half to death.”
“We didn’t do that!” The groundskeeper protests. He’s flailing his arms around, “Little beast came roaring out of the rooms like ‘o bat outa hell! Scared me half to death!”
Kronii hums. The doorman is going on a tirade about how mangy the dog was and how unclean this whole business was for the young lady. It doesn’t have a collar. It does, Kronii notices, have a wound. It’s one long gash down its back and over its hind leg. It only looks like it suffered half the blow meant for it. It’s shaking like a leaf.
“What injured it?” Kronii asks.
“Thas’ what I wanna know!” The groundskeeper exclaims. “We don’t got no bears, no wolves, nothing with teeth that big, nothing with claws that big.”
“Perhaps poachers.” The doorman huffs. “Maybe a knife or a bear trap.”
“Ain’t no wound be lookin’ like that!”
Kronii doesn’t know enough about that kinda stuff. The other two argue amongst themselves. She tilts her head over her shoulder. The hall guard looks back at her, his expression neutral.
“Miss?” He asks.
“Go out and do a sweep of the grounds,” Kronii says. “Pick up the rest of the regiment if you wish. For safety, I’d rather there not be a deranged lunatic on our property.”
“Yes, m’lady.” He bows his head, moving past the servants with the sharp clinking of armor and authority. Her servants look back at her helplessly. Kronii sighs and rises to her feet.
“Can you get him cleaned up and tended to?” She asks. “The dog, I mean. If he belongs to someone in Aldertok they may come looking for him.”
“Yes, miss.” The doorman says.
The groundskeeper is frowning. Kronii raises an eyebrow, “Yes?”
“May I ask to join the regiment?”
“You’ll need to submit a formal request to-”
“Not that.” He says. “The mutt made a trail. I want to look into it.”
Kronii hadn’t thought of that. She considers it. It’d be better just to hire hunters for this, but she’s also not entirely sure if it’s worth that much attention in the first place. What’s the result of an injured dog, anyway?
“You may.” She says. She adds jokingly, “Don’t step in any bear traps out there.”
He doesn’t laugh.
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