Royalty

It’s dark out, but Leia gleefully guides me into my new estate, pulling me by the hand my new freshly restored old-school Japanese-style manor home. As the rice-paper sliding door swings open, it’s better than I could have imagined. It’s spotless. The initial entrance room, a “genkan”, opens up into a grand central space flanked by sliding doors, and in the center, a recessed pit with a covered table, with a heating element to warm your feet. Gentle, candle-lit paper lanterns give a warmth and orange glow throughout.

I’m pulled along so quickly, I can barely maintain my balance. Room after room comes into view. An office space. A bedroom. A kitchen, stocked with modern appliances. A very large bathroom, apparently designed as such due to my being from the West. Finally, we reach a master bedroom. It’s bigger than my entire apartment in college, with a grand western-style bed and an attached bath.

Given today’s busy day, I quietly unpack my belongings, brush my teeth, and attempt to retire to my bed. Leia objects. She wants to go through the whole house and explain the intricacies to me. Not happening.

With a fuss, I deposit her on the living room couch, wrap her up in a blanket, and retire to my bed. Finally, some rest. The night passes uneventfully. This bed they’ve set up for me is very warm.

Morning comes. I realize why my bed seemed so warm. As I turn over, a snoring, drooling, red-haired elf is in my bed, fully wrapped around me. I try to worm my way out, and she instinctively tightens her grip. I’ve been used as a human heating pad yet again. With a deep sigh of patience and tolerance, I carefully wriggle my way out from her grasp and face the mirror. I look down at my right foot. A tiny sliver of frost has formed on my heel. I glance over at her, her eyebrows are furled, eyes closed. This is a clear message to return to bed.

Not happening. You won’t get me this easily. I’ve got stuff to do. A few magic screens appear on my kitchen counter as I prepare some tea, the closest thing I’ve found to coffee so far. All of which are from Hue.

Firstly, Calyx, that demihuman carriage driver from when I first arrived in town, is to be brought into the station to give a statement regarding the Uragas murder. Secondly, the Royal Family is sending out feelers to meet with me regarding something to do with the Princess and some kind of incident, they wouldn’t say.

That all-too-familiar feeling of dread envelopes me. Another long day. I scribble a note for Leia and set out on my walk to the station. Thankfully, my new home is about 10 minutes away, and in a decent neighborhood, so I can surveil the sights and sounds as the city comes to life at sunrise.

I arrive at the front gate; the little goblin gate-man opens it for me. The dew glistens on the freshly manicured courtyard lawn, and I made my way to the front door, enjoying the last deep whiffs of the fresh morning air. Poking my head in the front door, the lobby is empty. No receptionist. I must be too early.

I find my office lights are on. Sitting in the visitor’s chair is Calyx, with a demihuman assistant, glaring at me.

“You’re late.”

I glance at my watch. I’m 30 minutes early for when I told them my shifts start. Given her volatility, it’s best not to fight her on this.

She launches into a detailed overview of the Uragas case, most of which I know already. Slime, gravity magic, elderly man crushed to death. However, the specific details of the victim were new to me. He was a metallurgist, an expert in assisting blacksmiths and jewelers, who despite his poverty maintained a policy of helping his fellow “demis” at no charge. A hero in the community. Apparently, he was quite close to her as he’d helped her secure her position with Prince Alexander, who as I now understand is a friend to the demi-humans. The community is close to open revolt over this injustice. Something must be done.

She implores me to find a way to assuage the locals’ fears and pacify them, while finding justice for this old man. There’s a big problem here. If I publicly announce an investigation into the death of this man, I’m painting a target on my back. These Slimes have the resources to openly assassinate me with no consequences. It’s no coincidence that the last Chief retired as soon as the Slimes took over vast sections of the city. Even if I subtly seed word of an investigation to the demihumans, there’s no guarantee that it will remain secret, and I could end up getting killed anyway.

I decide to send her on her way with the most affirmative “I’m working on it, trust me” I could muster. I’m going to need more cooperation from these Royals before I even think about making a move here. As much as I’d like to rely on the rule of law like back home, my gut says such thinking is optimistic at best, and stupid at worst.

As usual, she’s not satisfied with this answer, and leaves my office in a huff. Almost immediately, Leia pokes her head in.

“There’s a carriage outside for you. You shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

That awful ringing hits my brain again. Hue. “They’ve been outside for nearly 15 minutes, John.”

Those veins of frustration pop out from my forehead. If you knew they were sitting out there, why didn’t you warn me, you useless little gelatinous whoopie-cushion? I really could strangle him. Well, I couldn’t, because of his bodily makeup, but I really, really could find a way. Does he take enjoyment out of doing this to me? Ugh.

Leia and I march out to find a Royal Carriage. Similar in luxury to Prince Alexander’s carriage that we rode in before, it’s attended generously by staff and built with the riders’ comfort clearly above all else. We quietly thank them for their patience and hop in. The next destination: The Royal Palace.

As with all Royal Carriages, the ride is smoothed out with magic. A carefully maintained air cushion separates the body of the carriage from the load-bearing suspension. A dedicated mage is assigned to each carriage to perfect this riders’ experience. It’s not a terrible job, if a bit boring. We cruise our way slowly through the central city, bypassing the impressive College of Magic spires and outlying buildings, before arriving at an impressive, curated wilderness.

It must be some kind of park; there’s buildings all around, but in front of us, nothing but dense forest. I watch in awe as a grand light opens up in front of us, and a golden path appears in front of the carriage, carving directly through the seemingly impenetrable dark treeline. Dainty art-deco steel streetlamps illuminate the path as our carriage smoothly tracks its way through this eerie entrance road.

Leia bumps my shoulder. “Look.”

I poke my head out of the carriage window. The view takes my breath away. What I see is not just a royal palace; it’s a statement of power. A massive, 5 story mansion, stretching as far as my eyes can see, curving around us in a grand, horseshoe-shaped estate, illuminated a golden-amber color in the morning sunlight. Vast, neatly manicured trees and gardens dominate the courtyard. A central procession-way leads to an enormous pavilion with a grand doorway, trimmed in ornate gold and exotic hardwoods. Two armed guards in full plate armor stand at attention on each side of the door.

The carriage is not even close to its stopping point. I can hardly believe the sheer scale of this place. A team of butlers, servants and maids stand at attention at the carriage’s parking point. We slowly trundle into position, before our driver lets us out, giving me my first on-foot impression of this almost fairy-tale-like castle beyond my imagination.

I’m speechless. This was hiding within the city? Are we even in the city at this point? How much money could it have taken to build something like this?

The very professional wait staff ushers us up the grand staircase and into the palace entranceway. As with Prince Alexander’s estate, we’re met yet again with the typical style of a Royal entrance hall; an impressive descending stairway beyond the front door, into an impossibly large and empty room, with a giant polished staircase leading up to a second floor.

I hear the clinking and clanking of metal armor. On both sides of the elevated 2nd floor balcony, knights file into view, assuming a kneeling position in a neat row. An elderly elf with a staff, an old human man with a staff, and a young maid girl emerge from the upper right balcony door, followed by a beautiful girl in a long, flowing orange dress. She oozes royalty. That must be the princess.

They arrive at the top of the staircase, her retainers glaring down at Leia and I with thinly veiled suspicion. The Princess looks down on us. I steel myself with all the resolve I can, trying not to commit a faux-pas that ends up in my own beheading.