A New Problem

Without a word, I hear the Princess gracefully step her way down from the balcony to meet us. I dare not raise my head. I know how this kind of thing goes. Before, I could swing my weight around as a cop; I even busted a CEO in the interrogation room and made him cry that one time. Tax fraud. What a wimp. This is different. This girl could have me run through the back with a polearm for just looking at her wrong.

The eerie silence, punctuated by her sharp footsteps on the polished, black marble flooring is wholly unsettling. She walks directly towards me. The outline of her searingly bright-orange dress comes into view as she stops directly in front of me. I muster my courage and look up.

She’s a perfect, otherworldly being of picturesque beauty… and she’s staring directly at me, right up in my face. She can’t be more than 20 years old. Piercing, probing, accusatory and pensive purple eyes, a short, wavy chin-length cut of light blonde hair, and a look of almost hostile curiosity. In an instant, I feel a wave of anxiety wash over me.

What am I, a teenager again? I’m visibly sweating. I’m out of shape. My knees hurt. My back hurts again. Not good. Really, really, not good. My heart is pounding.

“You’re exactly as Alexander said you’d be. Follow me.”, she says with a tinge of disappointment, and suddenly turns away and walks towards a large, arched hallway, her dress twirling with her. The only thought I can come up with is a passing saying I once shared with my boys in Investigations: ‘I love a woman who would actually just kill me.’ It brings me a moment of comfort.

Leia and I follow her silently down the hall to a large, wooden doorway that opens on its own. I scarcely notice the ornate golden vases and ornaments lining the hall, or its incredible painted, textured windows. It’s pitch black inside this next room. As soon as the Princess steps one foot in, the walls and ceiling arc to life with a blue-green energy, revealing a raised, circular pad in the center of the room. She steps up onto it and begins floating in the air, then beckons us to join her.

As we step in, we’re lifted off our feet and find ourselves seated, mid-air, in an ethereal sort of meeting room, surrounded by a quite-clearly-visible barrier with multiple layers, spinning and churning silently. The gentle sound of some sort of baroque classical music fills the air, at the most imperceptible background volume, the perfect level for ambience. I glance at where it’s coming from – a small band of musicians has appeared in the hall, outside the barrier, playing away.

I steal a glance at Leia. She’s completely unfazed. She grins at the Princess and exchanges pleasantries. Scary! Not good. They know eachother. They both turn to me.

“You’ve got quite the problem on your hands, John.”, the Princess says, with not even an attempt to make it sound deferential. Gulp. A bead of sweat works its way down my forehead.

“I should introduce myself. Crown Princess Arianne, Regent to the Principality of Laios and first in line to the Throne of Mastery of the Realm, at your service.”, she floats, with a graceful curtsy. I open my mouth to return her greeting, raising my hand to do the typical polite bow, but she glares at me. No pleasantries.

“Your predecessor ran from the Slimes when they robbed us of our independence. At the very least, you’ve demonstrated that you’re competent. I’ve had my men survey your progress since you’ve arrived.”

I gently nod in acknowledgement.

“I won’t lower myself to question your methods. Suffice to say, you’re doing well. That being said, I was made aware you witnessed a casualty of Uragas’s caravan when you first arrived here.”

I glance over at Leia, looking at the barrier beyond us and nonverbally begging for her reassurance. She looks at me like I’m an idiot.

“Is it your intention to pursue a criminal case against Uragas for this blatant act of cruelty?”, she pries, with a raised eyebrow. A loaded question.

“Yes, of course, milady.” I try to give my strongest impression of conviction.

A smug grin overtakes her.

“Good. I know you must be terrified, having been asked to assume this position with no understanding of the battlefield you’ve been dumped onto. I’ve thought of a solution to this ever since the last Chief… ran away.”

Gulp.

“Speaking with the council of Regents, former aristocrats and judges, I’ve created an entirely new position within the government. Rather than give it to you, I believe it would be better suited for someone I trust. From today on, I’ll be assigning to you my assistant, Beatrix, whose role is to be your liaison for legal matters. In effect, I’ll look over high-profile cases that you bring to her, and you can expect the full backing of the Royal houses, assuming you can convince her of their merit.”

I hear the rap-tap-tapping of another set of heels on the floor behind us.

“That is all. Thank you for coming by, and good luck, John”, she adds, with an ever so slight sweetness. For some reason, this little goodbye freaks me out more than the inherent threat of being killed. A warm orange glow envelopes her, and she dematerializes into thin air. We gently float down to the ground.

I turn to find myself face to face with an elf girl, in a fancy black and white frilled dress, the same height as me, and… well endowed. This must be Beatrix. My years of tact and training keep my eyes on track. She’s also surprisingly pretty, long blonde hair, golden ear accessories, pointy ears, green eyes.

She’s looking right at me.

“You’re ugly.”

Huh? What did she just say to me?

“Arianne said you were good looking. I can’t believe she would lie to me like this.”

From my short time with Leia, I can tell when certain things are going to set her off. But – this baffles me. Beatrix just called ME ugly, not her. Why is she getting pissed off? I can see her turning red with rage. I’ve got to think on the spot to try and defuse this.

“Well, looks can be deceiving, you know.” The instant I utter this, I feel the glaring, white-hot rage of both of them upon me. By some miracle, I’ve picked not only the wrong answer, but the worst answer possible.

The classical music band is still in the hall, and they’ve started playing some sort of anxiety-inducing modern atmospheric horn piece, almost perfectly accentuating the mood. As soon as I look at them, they stop. Bastards.

I quietly suggest we get a move on. The three of us walk back outside with the most nail-biting awkward silence imaginable, and those damned musicians started back up again as soon as we started walking. I was never good at dealing with these kinds of things. The glamour of a fancy palace really gets dampened when you’re waging a two-front-war.

Beatrix decides to come visit the station at a time of her choosing, implying that she’ll only show up once I’ve actually got something for her to do. I’ll take my lumps and roll with it. Leia and I arrive back at the station as the sun is starting to go down.

A quick check of my schedule whiteboard in the lobby, and I see, crudely scrawled across about three weeks’ worth of squares, the word… ORCS. I’m just going to assume that Biru means tomorrow, not three straight weeks. Very good. There’s a note from Maahnn at the front desk for me. The obstacle course is ready, again, but this time for the orcs. I’m excited to see what these guys came up with.

Leia and I’s evening walk home was colored by today’s incident. I’m walking a minefield here. There’s the factor of another elf girl being brought into the fold; if anything, they’re very possessive, even without having any logical cause to be that way. Secondly, my stupid comment from earlier. Thirdly, I’m utterly thankful that Beatrix does not have a permanent office at the station, yet.

My back hurts. Of all the things, why now? Thankfully, Leia seems to lighten up a bit once we’re back home. A quickly cobbled-together dinner and a chat over drinks and we’re back on speaking terms. In her typical fashion, she asks deeply incisive questions about my thoughts on the Princess, on the palace itself, whether or not I trust Alexander, but not once does she mention Beatrix. This doesn’t escape me.

If I know one thing about women, that’s on purpose. Landmine! Red flag! Achtung! Danger! Do not touch!

Having gained some renewed confidence in my ability to read situations, my day ends uneventfully. This time, I plant Leia in a separate bedroom on the opposite end of the house. I wish I could get some time to myself at this point.

As I lay there in the dark, splayed out on my bed, I realize I’d been tuning out a sound this entire time.

CLONK.

Then, silence.

CLONK.

I jump up.

CLONK.

I shine my light out into the yard. In the garden, a piece of bamboo is filling up with water. It hinges on a pivot and smacks down onto a rock.

CLONK.

Ah. I’m sure there’s a name for whatever that is. Great.

I flop down in my bed again, this time, out for good.