NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Anybody who participated or is participating in the Courtship of Princess Anna thread or in the Religious Conference in the Vortex Corporation thread or in the Death of John Cardinal Duras thread is welcome to post in this thread. Anybody else should ask me or Aelosia first about whether we mind them coming in... should be easier to manage that way!

IC: The policemen who took Prince Bastianel from the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator lead him down the corridor in their station, into a large, well-appointed room, whose true purpose is only made evidence by the bars on the door and windows. The furnishings, whilst not exactly regal, are certainly comfortable and of good quality. A small bookcase is filled with a good variety of books, ranging from the Bible to confiscated Harry Potter books. There is even a cabinet stocked with wine and brandy.

"We keep this cell for noble prisoners..." explains the policeman who is leading the Prince. The police lead him into the 'cell', remove his handcuffs, and then leave, locking the door behind them. One of the officers turns back to the Prince.

"When a representative from Your Highness' embassy arrives, we'll send him in. If there is anything Your Highness requires in the meantime, please let us know." says the officer.

Bastianel says to the guards "Stop calling me Your Highness ok?. And I no longer holds any noble titles, so if you want you can put me in a normal cell. However, I'm very comfortable here. What should I do now?, Wait?. Well, anyway, I would like a flute, or a fiddle... Can you get something like that?"

Simon shook his head as he returned to the embassy. "I failed... I have bought dishonor upon myself and my family."

He entered and pulled out his mobile, calling the one person who he knew would know what to do. "Father? Are you there?"

*What is it, Simon? I am very busy right now!*

Simon revealed everything, making a clean breast of it. "And now an innocent elf is locked away."

*I see.*

Simon could see the old man's face twisting to anger, as it so often did when they were together. "I failed, father. I apologise..."

*You foolish boy! This wasn't just about your marriage to Anna, which is now a hopeless idea. I sent you as the royal emissary to a Catholic country, and you failed me!*

"Yes, father. I failed, and I accept your punishment." Simon gritted his teeth.

*Let me finish. You made a collosal cock-up of your mission. Yes?*

"Yes, father."

*But you were mature enough to admit it to me, and to His Imperial Majesty.*

"I am sorry?*

*Don't act like that. For all our disagreements, I am your father and I still love you and your sister, regardless of how often you two anger me.*

"Thank you. How is Kathryn?" Simon asked aimlessly.

*She is fine. She was looking forward to a wedding, so if you can meet someone decent while there you would make her very happy. Now, back on topic. There is one thing you can do to remove the stain on your honor.*

Simon tried to think it through. "Help Bastaniel escape?"

*Let's save that for plan two. You have to find who was the real murderer. I will contact Lady Sirithril immediately and see if she can tell us of any humans that might have access to the poison used. I understand that the Cardinal is very anxious about the whole matter. So finding the killer might gain you a promotion.*

"You have a suspicion, don't you?"

*I can think of only one person, Simon, who would gain by Duras's death and Bastaniel's imprisonment. Simon, make me pro... no, make me prouder of you than I am. Good bye.*

"Good bye, Father." Simon turned the phone off and tried to think. He had only one suspect.

Princess Irene.

It all fit! That priest who tailed her around everywhere could easily gain access to Duras. "I'll talk to Cardinal Conomos immediately. He'll be able to help."

Bastianel says to the guards "Stop calling me Your Highness ok?. And I no longer holds any noble titles, so if you want you can put me in a normal cell. However, I'm very comfortable here. What should I do now?, Wait?. Well, anyway, I would like a flute, or a fiddle... Can you get something like that?"

"Yes Your Highn... yes." says the policeman. He returns with a flute. He opens a hatch on the wall and puts it in the box behind it. When he closes the hatch, the hatch on the other side (in Bastianel's cell) opens, revealing the flute.

"If there's anything else, sir, just press the buzzer over there." the policeman indicates a button on the wall, and leaves.

Bastianel starts to play, the usual melody, the one that gave him success and the chance of becoming a superstar. He suddenly stops, and thinks "This is natural, beautiful birds are often put in a cage. This is just the natural behaviour. Revenge will be mine, anyway. That Princess is going to pay everything she has done to me".

He starts to remember what the ShadowPrince said to him in their private interview. No matter what, one must live by his own code, and uphold your code with honor. Without honor there's nothing. You must defend the things in what you believe, for us the elves that means to defend justice, beauty and good. Are you prepared to defend those things, Count Bastianel?.

He remembered his answer to his ruler, he was proud of be capable of talking to him, the famed war hero and arm of the nation Yes, Sire, I am prepared

The flashback continued Are you aware that this path is going to be harsh and difficult?. That you may lose everything, including your life?. You love a human Princess. Beren loved Lúthien too. But he lost his hand and his life searching the Silmarils of the crown of Morgoth, just to win the favor of her father Thingol. You know the legend, you're a minstrel after all. Are you ready to sacrifice yourself for Anna as Beren sacrificed himself for Lúthien?

Yes, my liege, I am, he heard himself saying those words again.

So be it. You have my permission and my blessings to return to Pantocratoria, to win the favor of your beloved Anna. Win the favor of his father, no matter what. And remember, without honor there's nothing, turn yourself a better man for her. Take my sword, she will make you remember my words, may her be your guide. Rise, Prince Bastianel, you have proved to be a true elven soul. For now on your House will be a Great House of the Empire. He smiled, remembering how proud he was in that moment.

But now, everything was lost. By Aelosia's law, if a noble was accused of a crime, all his titles and properties can be confiscated by the another Houses. But the worst of all is that he had lost Anna. "I only hope that she can be happy and can find a man that really love her".

He starts to play again the flute, holding the tears in his eyes.

True knights never cry, Bastianel. Their honor forbids them...

Two police officers sat in the guardroom at the end of the cellblock, playing cards.

"When do you suppose the elf's representative from the embassy gets here?" asks one of them.

"You can't get out of it that easy. I called." answers the other.

The first cop lays down his hand.

"Damn!" shouts the other officer, tossing his cards down. "Maybe we should ask him. Who knows, maybe his rep isn't coming."

"I'll ask him..." the other cop says. He walks over to Bastianel's door. "Your Highness, or whatever you want to be called now, is your representative from your embassy coming or what?"

"Maybe you are talking about me", a very seductive voice says from the another hallway. A very cute female elf, with long black hair and big blue eyes, covered by a nice glasses, was the source of the voice. "Well, let's see, I'm Cyanna Kaliesstri, the Aelosian envoy", she raises a little suitcase and extract several documents. "And here are my credentials. Can I see Bastianel now?", she says, her small silouette was well marked by the line of her formal suit. She extends the papers to the guards.

The other policeman whistles, quite unsubtly.

"Uhh... yes... erm... everything seems to be in order here madamoiselle." says the first policeman. He opens the cell door, and closes it after Cyanna Kaliesstri.

"The investigators on this case will come and speak to you in a few minutes, but we'll give you a little time to confer with your client first." says the policeman.

The other policeman mouthes something obscene to his partner as the first cop sits back down at the card table.

"Good afternoon, Bastianel" says the elven woman, slowly opening her suitcase in front of him.

The prisoner turned his face to see the newcomer. A expression of absolute fear appeared in his face, as if the devil himself had appeared in front of him. "You...you... are...you're dead. What are you doing here?" he says, almost petrified with terror.

The lady pulls something out of the suitcase, and put it beneath the table. "Please, be quiet. We don't need to make a scene of this. Just prepare to die as your father and your Prince told you, quiet and with honor..."

Simon stood up and paced around the room aimlessly. "Okay... so the cardinal is in Rome right now."

Simon stood up and grabbed his armor. "I'm going to talk to Bastaniel. He must know something."

Two ununiformed inspectors enter the cell. They sit down at the conference table with Bastianel and Cyanna Kaliesstri.

"So," starts the first inspector in his thick French accent. "let me tell you what you did. First, you established a 'ide-out in the Vortex Corporation's temple where at the conference was taking place. You smuggled into the country a dose of zis Elven poison, 'ow did you call it again?"

"Who cares what he calls it?" says the second inspector in a dismissive tone, in a perfect English accent. "He knows what it is. You smuggled the dose in a locket on chain around your neck. You opened the locket and dumped the contents into the water jug at the Pantocratorian table at the conference. When Cardinal Duras poured himself a glass..."

"...he died. 'Orribly." concludes the first inspector. "Only you were negligent! In your elven arrogance, you thought yourself unapprehendable!"

"You rushed out into the gardens, where you ripped the locket from the chain and tossed it. You wiped your prints off it, or maybe you were wearing gloves." says the second inspector. "Unfortunately for you, tiny flakes of your skin were deposited on the chain, which you dropped nearby."

"Zhen you confessed your 'einous crime to an innocent immigration officielle, perhaps trying to impress 'er, trying to trick 'er into fulfilling your deviant fantasies about 'uman women? She's a pretty one, I know, that's what you were doing, non?" says the first inspector with a sneer. "But she was repulsed by your advances, an' came forward with 'er story. And so we 'ave cause probable to take a DNA sample from zeh chip injecteur..."

"...which we did." says the second inspector. "And guess what? Your DNA matched the DNA of the skin on the chain. The forensic evidence is compelling, and your motive is obvious."

"But we are not 'ere to gloat, monsieur." says the first inspector. "Oh no, we are 'ere because His Most Catholic et Imperial Majesty's justice is merciful. We don't want to 'ave to execute you for zis crime, which we would 'ave to do if it went to trial, you see?"

"Confess now, save His Majesty's treasury the cost of a trial, and your life will be spared." concludes the second inspector. He slides a piece of paper and pen across the table. On the paper is a written version of the story which has just been told.

"Sign it..." says the first inspector. "...and live."

Simon enters the police office. The police officer on duty, a young woman, looked up. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes... I would like to speak to Mr. Bastaniel. Immediately."

"I am sorry, sir. No-one may speak to him."

Simon lowers his sunglasses and opens his wallet. He holds out a card. "As an Inquisitor of the church, I feel I should be present at any investigation into the murder of Cardinal Duras. As a nobleman, I am here to ensure that Bastaniel gets a fair trial. As a friend of his... I wish to provide bail, provided he is released into my custody." Simon pulls out a large wad of Roanian Bank Notes.

"Inquisitor, you may speak with him in the presence of an officer in his cell, but under no circumstances will be be released into your custody." says the officer, pushing the roll of banknotes back to the Inquisitor.

"I understand. And allow me to commend you on your attention to duty. It's not very often that I meet such a... beautiful young lady while on business." Simon smiled winningly. "And I'm sure that such a beautiful woman as your self would know what bail would be set at, if it was to be set."

"I understand. And allow me to commend you on your attention to duty. It's not very often that I meet such a... beautiful young lady while on business." Simon smiled winningly. "And I'm sure that such a beautiful woman as your self would know what bail would be set at, if it was to be set."
:lol:

"Bastianel is a foreign national with considerable resources at his disposal. The court remanded him to custody pending trial. There is no bail." she replies, taking the complement in stride. "But if you would like, Inquisitor, you may be able to join the interrogationg currently taking place... Inspector Girraud and Inspector Vern have been interrogating him all night. Would you like me to show you to the cell, sir?"

"It's a pity, then." Simon smiled. "As an Inquisitor, I have access to powers beyond your imagination... and we are all servants of the holy church, no?" Simon adds another few banknotes to the pile. "I am sure that I can handle a weakened elf."

Simon's voice hardens. "This is church jurisdiction, Officer. If there is a group targetting Cardinal's, I must know and report it. And it must not get out. Do I make myself clear?" He sighed.

"Couldn't someone as charming and graceful as you see your way clear to letting me see him alone?"

OOC: Very strange people you hire for your police. A handsome guy walks in, compliments them and tries to bribe them, and they don't bat an eye.

The officer swallows hard and pushes the money back across the counter.

"Inquisitor, please..." she says. "Murder is beyond the jurisdiction of canon law. The Church has no authority here as a point of law. I'd be more than happy to let you see Bastianel with another officer, to ask whatever questions you might have. But I cannot allow you to see the prisoner alone. Regulations don't permit it."

She pauses to breathe in.

"Please Inquisitor, our regulations are... strictly enforced." she says, pale with fear.

Cyanna takes the paper with the written confession and tore it apart. "I'm sorry, gentlemen. He's not going to sign that under any circunstances. And the next time you're going to accuse him based in just your own way of thinking, think first. You came here trying to force an unwanted confession and you are trying to convince Bastianel of signing some that wasn't redacted by himself. This kind of things will support us when the Aelosian embassy declares that the Pantocratoria's justice system is not in accord with international laws". The elven woman was outraged, but she regained her self control.

"This is illegal, I want you out of the cell of my client now. Do you understand?". Then she turns to the agents for a last time "And one more thing. "If any of you approach Bastianel again, I will accuse you of harassment ok?"

The officer swallows hard and pushes the money back across the counter.

"Inquisitor, please..." she says. "Murder is beyond the jurisdiction of canon law. The Church has no authority here as a point of law. I'd be more than happy to let you see Bastianel with another officer, to ask whatever questions you might have. But I cannot allow you to see the prisoner alone. Regulations don't permit it."

She pauses to breathe in.

"Please Inquisitor, our regulations are... strictly enforced." she says, pale with fear.

"Very well. But you will be that other officer, and you will not reveal anything that you are told." Simon winked. "Understood? If you do, that is an excommunicatable offense, and I will not hesitate to hand it down. I am going to be hearing his confession."

Cyanna takes the paper with the written confession and tore it apart. "I'm sorry, gentlemen. He's not going to sign that under any circunstances. And the next time you're going to accuse him based in just your own way of thinking, think first. You came here trying to force an unwanted confession and you are trying to convince Bastianel of signing some that wasn't redacted by himself. This kind of things will support us when the Aelosian embassy declares that the Pantocratoria's justice system is not in accord with international laws". The elven woman was outraged, but she regained her self control.

"This is illegal, I want you out of the cell of my client now. Do you understand?". Then she turns to the agents for a last time "And one more thing. "If any of you approach Bastianel again, I will accuse you of harassment ok?"

"We're not going anywhere. This interrogation isn't finished. Your client is under arrest. What's the problem, aren't you being paid by the hour?" asks Inspector Vern.

"Zhere was nothing unfair about asking your client to sign zis papier! It describes our zheory of ze crime. Perhaps zhere is some detail we 'ave missed? If your client would like to tell us 'is side of ze story, we would like to 'ear it!" says Inspector Girraud. He produces a yellow notepad and slides it across the table to Bastianel. "And if you would like to make a different confession, monsieur, you can write it on zis pad."

"Yes, if we missed anything in the statement you just tore up, we'd love for you to fill in the blanks. So come on elf, tell us your side of the story." concludes Vern.

The officer swallows hard and pushes the money back across the counter.

"Inquisitor, please..." she says. "Murder is beyond the jurisdiction of canon law. The Church has no authority here as a point of law. I'd be more than happy to let you see Bastianel with another officer, to ask whatever questions you might have. But I cannot allow you to see the prisoner alone. Regulations don't permit it."

She pauses to breathe in.

"Please Inquisitor, our regulations are... strictly enforced." she says, pale with fear.

"Very well. But you will be that other officer, and you will not reveal anything that you are told." Simon winked. "Understood? If you do, that is an excommunicatable offense, and I will not hesitate to hand it down. I am going to be hearing his confession."

The officer squirms uncomfortably. She feels totally out of her depth.

"Please Inquisitor..." she starts, "Regulations require one of the investigating officers, who in this case are Inspectors Girraud and Vern, to be present during any discussion between a prisoner and anybody but a guard or the prisoner's legal representative. I couldn't possibly be that other officer. I'm just working the front desk, sir. Please, could I get Inspector Vern for you, and you could work this out with him?"

"Oh, no. I insist. I am going to be hearing his confession, and it wouldn't do for the investigating agents to be present, would it?" Simon places his hand on hers. "Tell me, what is your name?"

Bastianel saw the officers with a proud face "I will not write anything for you. You don't even deserve to look my calligraphy. At least you could try to stop speaking like some kind of retards. I'm an elf, and I don't speak with a stupid accent like you. The only thing that I will say before the trial is that I am innocent of the murder of the Cardinal Duras. That's all, I have never killed a living being in all my life."

The presence of Cyanna was like a balsam. She was the love of her childhood, and his best friend. They were raised together, attending to the same school, playing with the same toys. Now she was one of the most talented international lawyers in Aelosia. With her support, he with no doubt could get out of this jail

Cyanna interrumpted Bastianel "What about the bail?. By international law he has the right to a bail, What have you to say about that?"

Simon and the officer at the desk knocked on the door. Chris had been most supportive once he had established that he would just be hearing confession. Oh, and threatened to kill her. "I am Inquisitor Darquis. I am here to hear this man's confession. As per regulations, Officer Christine will be present during it, but she will not be allowed to speak of what she hears. I consider this an insult and a complaint will be sent to Cardinals Conomos and Richelieu as soon as this is completed."

"There is no international law which provides to the right to bail of prisoners who may flee. There was a bail hearing when he obtained the arrest warrant. The judge ruled that since Bastianel is a foreign national he poses an extreme flight risk, and thus ordered he be remanded." says Inspector Vern.

Inspector Girraud gets up to answer the door through the bars.

"Inquisitor, zis girl does not know our regulations well enough, I am afraid. If you want to come and sit in on our interrogation, you are most welcome. 'Owever, she is not. And you will under no circumstances be left alone with ze prisoner - either me or Inspector Vern will be with at all times." says Girraud. "As for 'er, file a compliant if you wish. It troubles me zat a man as distinguised as you might 'ave been insulted by zis... office girl! I assure you, Inquisitor, she will be dealt with harshly."

"By international law, any prisoner that turned himself to justice has right to a bail..." she says "I have forgotten more about international law than all that you had ever learned about them. Who is paying you for this?. They should find better lackeys anyway". Cyanna was very upset, trying to argue with this men were like trying to convince a wall of moving to the right...

"There is no international law which provides to the right to bail of prisoners who may flee. There was a bail hearing when he obtained the arrest warrant. The judge ruled that since Bastianel is a foreign national he poses an extreme flight risk, and thus ordered he be remanded." says Inspector Vern.

Inspector Girraud gets up to answer the door through the bars.

"Inquisitor, zis girl does not know our regulations well enough, I am afraid. If you want to come and sit in on our interrogation, you are most welcome. 'Owever, she is not. And you will under no circumstances be left alone with ze prisoner - either me or Inspector Vern will be with at all times." says Girraud. "As for 'er, file a compliant if you wish. It troubles me zat a man as distinguised as you might 'ave been insulted by zis... office girl! I assure you, Inquisitor, she will be dealt with harshly."

"You insult me more. I have come as a priest to hear this man's confession. And you dare to ask me to sit in on an interrogation? What gall! I expected better of you, Inspector. If I have to request a papal investigation, I will. Obviously the rights of another Catholic are being disrespected."

Simon forced his way within. "Confession is meant to be private. You will leave, and you will allow me to hear Bastaniel's confession. If necessary, I will invoke NobleMan's privilege."

"Listen you absurd wen... representative, the court has already ruled out the possibility for bail. A bail hearing has already taken place, before the warrant was issued. If you believe that it was improper for the judge to rule out bail without you, you may take it up with the judge! I'm just an inspector doing my job." says Vern. "I can't see though why he would grant bail at a new hearing, when your client is a foreign national, the risk of flight is too high. But as you so cunningly observed, you've forgotten more about international law than I, since I'm just a simple policeman."

"Now, let's get on to the business at hand. We've presented our theory of the crime to you. Please do us the courtesy of at least pretending to be vaguely interested in it!" snaps Vern. "Give us your version, Bastianel!"

"You insult me more. I have come as a priest to hear this man's confession. And you dare to ask me to sit in on an interrogation? What gall! I expected better of you, Inspector. If I have to request a papal investigation, I will. Obviously the rights of another Catholic are being disrespected."

Simon forced his way within. "Confession is meant to be private. You will leave, and you will allow me to hear Bastaniel's confession. If necessary, I will invoke NobleMan's privilege."

*Cough*

"I didn't entered the Vortex Corporation territory. I never saw the Cardinal Duras, and I never heard of him before I came to Pantocratoria. About that witness, the inmigration officer, I remember her, and she was a very nice person, so I don't believe that she testified against me.That's my version. is it enough?"

"There is no international law which provides to the right to bail of prisoners who may flee. There was a bail hearing when he obtained the arrest warrant. The judge ruled that since Bastianel is a foreign national he poses an extreme flight risk, and thus ordered he be remanded." says Inspector Vern.

Inspector Girraud gets up to answer the door through the bars.

"Inquisitor, zis girl does not know our regulations well enough, I am afraid. If you want to come and sit in on our interrogation, you are most welcome. 'Owever, she is not. And you will under no circumstances be left alone with ze prisoner - either me or Inspector Vern will be with at all times." says Girraud. "As for 'er, file a compliant if you wish. It troubles me zat a man as distinguised as you might 'ave been insulted by zis... office girl! I assure you, Inquisitor, she will be dealt with harshly."

"You insult me more. I have come as a priest to hear this man's confession. And you dare to ask me to sit in on an interrogation? What gall! I expected better of you, Inspector. If I have to request a papal investigation, I will. Obviously the rights of another Catholic are being disrespected."

Simon forced his way within. "Confession is meant to be private. You will leave, and you will allow me to hear Bastaniel's confession. If necessary, I will invoke NobleMan's privilege."

"Ah, pardon me Inquisitor! I misunderstood!" says Girraud honestly. "I 'ad thought you meant his legal statement, not ze sacrament of confession, which we would never dare obstruct! Pardon me! We do 'ave special facilities prepared just for zis, you need not 'ave supervision at all. To your right is a door. Inside is a chair, and an intercom, c'est tout. Ze prisoner will sit in a booth on 'is side of ze wall, and will be able to make 'is confession to you. My apologies, Inquisitor. As you can tell, I do not speak English too well, I must 'ave misunderstood you. If you sit in ze booth, ze prisoner will make 'is confession to you as soon as possible!"

"I didn't entered the Vortex Corporation territory. I never saw the Cardinal Duras, and I never heard of him before I came to Pantocratoria. About that witness, the inmigration officer, I remember her, and she was a very nice person, so I don't believe that she testified against me.That's my version. is it enough?"

"Now we're going somewhere." says Vern, glad that they've got beyond legal niceties. "If you didn't enter the Vortex Corporation, how do you explain your DNA being found on a necklace in the garden outside the temple? And the witness made a sword statement to the Ministry of Cultural Development. I can provide it to your legal representative if you would like."

OOC: Delete post is a wonderful button, eh? 8)

OOC: I was called away and accidentally pressed the button.

Besides, Simon wears armor all the time...

IC: "This can wait for a while. Please release Bastaniel into my custody so I can hear his confession."

"I am afraid, Inquisitor, zat the prisoner will most certainly not be released into anyone's custody without a court order. Now, if you want to 'ear a confession, sit in ze box. If not, I must ask you to leave. Either way, I 'ave a job to do!" Girraud says, growing tired of the exchange. He returns to the interrogation.

"Ze witness is of impecable character, monsieur." says Girraud as he sits back down at the table.

Simon sat in the confession and sat back. If I have to hear those two nimrods speak one more time...

"If you would like to take a short break while you rezink your pitiful story, monsieur, an Inquisitor out of Roania 'as come to 'ear your confession. If you would like to speak to 'im, zere is a box next to ze wall over zere. Zere is an intercom inside. You will be able to speak to ze priest on ze other side. We will not be able to 'ear you." says Girraud. "Oh, and he isn't 'ere to save you either, ze wall is thick concrete, and 'e won't be able to see you through it, despite 'is claim to 'ave ESP."

"My pitiful story, you said. One more insult to me and I will slap you, is that understood?", says Bastianel, his face red with anger. "And the in the name of the one thousand demons of the legion of hell wants that inquisitor with me?". Cyanna put a hand in his shoulder "Don't worry, Bastianel, please calm down. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to".

Then she turns to the Pantocratorian agents "I will explain everything about the DNA sample and that confession. It's a plot to frame Bastianel and put him away from Princess Anna. Let's see, When Bastianel entered the country one inmigration officer took a sample of his DNA and input a chip inside his arm. Why?, because Aelosian citizens are suspicious, Then, in the name of Isha, Why you didn't do that when I entered this country?, I'm also an Aelosian citizen, with no doubt that sample was placed in the necklace to involve Bastianel in the murder. Then, the same inmigration officer who took the sample, testifies against Bastianel, a confession brought out with torture or brainwashing perhaps, because her profile identified her as a well known admirer of the elven culture. We are not going to pay attention to your papers. Bring the proofs and make her testify that in front of my client, or I will sue you for difamation!, I promise."

"Go ahead, slap me, elf dog, we'll add a charge of assaulting an imperial officer to the enditement!" says Inspector Vern, standing up. Girraud puts a hand on his chest and gently pushes him back down into his chair.

"Madamoiselle, if you were not tagged on your entry into ze country, zis is most perculiar, I assure you." says Girraud, honestly. "Unless you came before ze new law was passed, all Aelosian nationals and nationals from Elven nations in general are to be tagged upon entering the Empire! It was one of ze first zings ze new Imperial Government did when it came into power."

"Alright, I've calmed down. As for the issue of the DNA sample - that DNA sample isn't intentionally extracted. When a chip is injected into a subject's arm, naturally a little tissue is left on the injecting device. It would normally be wiped clean. However, officials from the Ministry for Cultural Development detained the immigration officer before she had a chance to clean the device. When she made her statement, they realised there was a chance that DNA could be found on the injector, and handed it on to the Ministry for Public Safety, of which the Police Department is a part." explains Vern, calming down a little.

"The witness is called Genevieve Maire. She was detained by ze Ministry for Cultural Development for unrelated reasons, somezink like Internet music piracy... it is all in ze file. Anyway, she told ze investigating officials what 'ad 'appened, her statements says, and I paraphrase from ze French... 'Ze Prince Bastianel is come to me for ze injection of ze chip of tracking, and 'e has said zat 'e is ze one who 'as killed ze Cardinal. I zink 'e say zis to impress me, perhaps to scare me from performing my duty sacred to ze Empereur of injecting ze potential enemies of ze state who come into ze country with a chip of traking.'" says Girraud.

"Counsellor, under Pantocratorian law, when an immigrant or visitor coming from a country on our suspicious nationals list, like an Aelosian, and any evidence of a crime committed by that immigrant or visitor is provided to the Ministry of Public Safety, that evidence, even if it is only the word of a single witness, is considered adequate cause for a full investigation, including the examination of DNA evidence. Your client's DNA was on that injector. If you believe the DNA evidence on the injector may be tainted, if Bastianel would submit to another DNA test, we could allay your fears immediately." says Vern.

"As for zis witness, she shall of course be called to testify before a judge, either at a trial or at a preliminary hearing, I do not know. You would 'ave to speak to ze judge or ze prosecutor about zis." says Girraud. "'Ere is ze state of things, madamoiselle, monsieur... we 'ave a case sufficient for trial. We would like to give you, monsieur, ze opportunity to set ze record straight before ze lawyers get involved and start throwing about terms like 'execution'. 'Elp us by giving us a statement, and ze court will be lenient. You elves 'ave long lives, you could easily do a lenient sentence of 25 or 30 years and still be a relatively young man by the end, non? If you go to trial, 'owever, I am not so sure ze prosecutor will be so generous! If you do not wish to take us up on our offer, we will 'and zis case over to ze prosecutor immediately."

Christine looks in the door nervously, mindful of Simon's earlier threat.

"Don't forget Your Highness, sir, there's a confessor here to see you." she says, gulping hard.

"Silence insolent wench!" barks Girraud at the officer before turning back to the Aelosians.

"What's it going to be?" asks Vern.

OOC: In all honesty, all Aelosians should've been tagged if they entered the country after Princess Irene became Chancellor. Before that there was no such policy. If she was in the embassy before that time, then she would've got passed it. If she came later, we will have to put it down to clerk error.

OOC: Of course, she was in Pantocratoria bafore Bastianel arrived for the first time. That's why she wasn't tagged.

IC:

Cyanna turned to leave "I'm just going to tell you one last thing. Bastianel had already suffered enough with this. By Aelosian law, if a noble is accused of a capital crime, like rape, theft, kidnapping or murder, he lose all his properties and titles and is publicy dishonored. He has lost all they have in this world already. But I have to warn you about something. Bastianel used to be one of the ShadowPrince favourites, if you execute him, he will likely orders a retaliation against Pantocratoria. Be aware of this. This issue could create a war, if it isn't handled properly. And this is not a threat, it's a warning".

She turns to Bastianel and says "I will get you out of here. Don't give them what they want", she approaches him and kisses him in the cheek "Take care, ok?. I will go even to the ShadowPrince if I need to. GUARD!, open the door now!"

The Queen of Jeruselem was reading a private communication from the Latin Patriarch of Jeruselem after arriving home her trip to Roania. Victoria was busy unpacking the Queen's items.

"Well well, Prince Bastianel of Aelosia has been charged with the murder of Cardinal Duras of Pantocratoria. His was an elf too ... no surprise. I'd better get the church's position about this development and send some delegates to snoop around in Pantocratoria." she commented. "Elves, troublesome lot" Victoria replied.

"Counsellor, I keep trying to tell you, all those concerns, we let the courts deal with them." says Vern as he stands. Girraud stands two, and the inspectors leave with Cyanna.

"Your client will not be interrogated without your presence, madamoiselle. I am sure ze prosecutor will be in touch with you shortly." says Girraud in the hallway.

Christine stands, trembling. She grabs Vern.

"Inspector, the Roanian Inquistor in the confessional, he threatened to kill me if I didn't bring him here." she whispers to the Inspector, who nods silently.

Vern turns back to the cell door.

"Elf, do you want to speak to your confessor or not? Tell me now." he shouts to Bastianel.

"Don't shout to me, human. What's the name of that inquisitor anyway?" asks Bastianel.

Cyanna says to the agents "He won't tell you anything, so don't insist on interrogating him again".

AELOSIAN NEWS
EX-COUNT KILLED HIMSELF

Yesterday the former Count Kyrosal was found dead in his chambers. All evidence points to the fact that he committed the worst crime and sin known to elvenkind, suicide. He was found hanged on his room, with a last will signed in his desk.

Rumors speaks about the connection of the suicide of the Count with the imprisonement of his son in Pantocratoria and the removal of all the privileges of House Dephil. He can't be buried in the usual fashion of the Aelosian people, so his body will be cremated tomorrow. Protest raised in several cities of the Craftworld demanding the liberation of "Bastianel the Minstrel" as the common people calls him.

"Just checking if you wanted to speak to him. It's Inquisitor Darquis of Roania. We won't be listening in. If you don't want to speak to him, I'll get rid of him." says Vern. "That's all I'll say, counsellor."

KNIGHT OF THE ORDER OF THE PANTOCRATOR DEAD
Pantocratoria Daily

The Imperial Palace released a statement today to the effect that Count Kyrosal, Knight of the Order of the Pantocrator, died over the evening.

His Imperial Majesty was said to be "deeply saddened" by the news of Count Kyrosal's death, and "enraged that he may not be extended the full funerary honours due to him by his own people".

"If Aelosia will not do this great man the honour he deserves in death, then the Knightly Order of the Pantocrator would like to bury him in the vaults below the Chapel of St Constantine in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, New Rome, with full honours, as every Knight of the Order of the Pantocrator deserves." said the statement.

"Count Kyrosal was a great man, irrespective of the cultural differences between Pantocratoria and Aelosia. He deserves a proper burial."

When confronted with claims that the Count had committed suicide, and that he should therefore not be given a Christian burial, the Imperial Palace spokesman said "We've no reliable evidence that he committed suicide. He should be given the benefit of the doubt, as we would all want for such a heroic figure."

The Imperial Palace spokesman refused to comment on the imprisonment of Count Kyrosal's son, Bastianel Dephil.

continued on page 3

OOC: Of possible interest:
http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=84749

Bastianel says "Well, a confession is not going to hurt me anyway. Let him in"

Official and secret statement of the Aelosian Embassy to the Royal Palace of Pantocratoria:

"We had discovered that Count Kyrosal's cause of death was suicide. we annex a document with the evidence. If you want you can send investigators to find it by yourself. However, we didn't buried him because in his own last will he asked not to be buried, because he was conscious of the nature of his acts. He was not only an elf, but also a christian, and it looks like he firmly believed in the teachings of your strange religion. As far as we know, the christians also forbids to bury a man who was killed by his own hand. Our justice system is very clear and clean, we're sorry that we cannot say the same thing about yours. Anyway, we will wait for the decision of the ShadowPrince about this matter, maybe he will order the burial of the ex-Count after all".

"Sir, you'll note that there's a confessional booth up against the wall just here..." says on the police guards on the outside. "There's a chair and an intercom. The Inquisitor is on the other side. For protocol and security reasons I'm afraid we cannot let him in, sir."

OOC: The trial will begin as soon as Aelosia and Roania have finished RPing the confession.

Official and secret statement of the Aelosian Embassy to the Royal Palace of Pantocratoria:

"We had discovered that Count Kyrosal's cause of death was suicide. we annex a document with the evidence. If you want you can send investigators to find it by yourself. However, we didn't buried him because in his own last will he asked not to be buried, because he was conscious of the nature of his acts. He was not only an elf, but also a christian, and it looks like he firmly believed in the teachings of your strange religion. As far as we know, the christians also forbids to bury a man who was killed by his own hand. Our justice system is very clear and clean, we're sorry that we cannot say the same thing about yours. Anyway, we will wait for the decision of the ShadowPrince about this matter, maybe he will order the burial of the ex-Count after all".

Reply to the official communication:

We are happy to bury Count Kyrosal in a secular ceremony in non-consecrated ground. A special graveyard exists in the Exarchate of New Jerusalem where Knights of the Order of the Pantocrator who haven't been allowed a Christian burial (due to excommunications for the most part) have been buried over the centuries. If Aelosia will provide this great man with no burial, we would like to do so in recognition of the great admiration the Emperor and the Knights of the Order of the Pantocrator had for Count Kyrosal. However, we present this only as an option for the consideration of the Shadow Prince.

The Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, New Rome

Kyrosal entered the confessionary, "As you wish, anyway I think I have been peaceful enough, the next time you face an elf, stop believing in that Iesus Christi crap".

Response to the Reply:

As you wish. We don't have problems with that. However, the final decision in on the hands of the ShadowPrince. We also have another favor to ask. As Bastianel is a prisoner in your jail, Could you please inform him of what happened?.

The two policemen on guard played a game of cards while Bastianel was in the confessional over who had the melancholy duty of informing him about his father. Inspector Vern hangs around, suspicious about Inquisitor Darquis. Inspector Girraud, Christine, and Cyanna have all left the hall.

"Sir, you'll note that there's a confessional booth up against the wall just here..." says on the police guards on the outside. "There's a chair and an intercom. The Inquisitor is on the other side. For protocol and security reasons I'm afraid we cannot let him in, sir."

OOC: The trial will begin as soon as Aelosia and Roania have finished RPing the confession.

"Hey, Bastaniel." Simon leaned forward. "I don't have much time, I'll be brief."

"I know it wasn't you, and I know you know who did it." Simon sighed. "We have so much in common, don't we. We both love the princess, and accept we've lost her, we both know you are innocent..."

He drew a crystal ball from his bag. It sparkled. "And we both come from nations far, far more advanced then Pantocratoria." Simon raises his voice. "Do you have anything you wish to say, My Son?"

He lowers it again. "When you get outside, I want you to stall. If you are found guilty, and later the truth comes out... the church would be damaged."

"Now, do you have anything you wish to say? I am bound by holy oaths and nothing you say will pass outside of these walls."

OOC: Just out of curiousity, how much security does the police station have?

And would you mind if I commandeered one of your officers to look for proof about the killings?

OOC: Although Bastianel's comfortable and well-furnished cell may not suggest it, the station is quite secure. There are no blindspots from video cameras which are centrally modified (excepting confessional booths of course). Although there are only two officers sitting at a small table in the large hallway outside of Bastianel's cell (there are several other, smaller cells, all empty, which are accessed from this hall - Bastianel's is at the end), it wouldn't be particularly practical for anyone to fight their way out of the holding cells. The only access to the cellblock is through the police station, which is, as one might imagine, crawling with police attending to various duties. A team of commandos with a well-planned operation could probably bust somebody out after fighting their way through the station, but anything less than that would find the task impractical.

What do you mean by "commandeer" one of my officers to look for proof about the killings, btw? The police have now done their job, and are handing the case over to the Crown Prosecutor, so they won't be doing anymore investigation of their own accord.

OOC: I should clarify in case anybody is confused - the police didn't arrest Bastianel because they just suspect him of being responsible. Evidence has been provided to their investigation by several government departments, domestic and abroad, (eg Ministry for Public Safety, Ministry for Cultural Development, even Aelosia's own toxicologists). This evidence has been found by a judge to be sufficient for an arrest warrant to be issued. The police side of things is done, as far as the cops themselves are concerned. If this was an episode of Law and Order, the case is now over to the ADAs to sort out, to give you some idea.

I'm not sure how clear I've made any of these, and since this story arc has been split across several threads, some people may not have seen the full-story, so there it is.

OOC: Yes, but Simon thinks that there is more evidence to be found, and he's operating under Canon law and Inquisitorial law.

Also, he believes the real killer to be either Princess Irene or Count Kryosal.

Besides, if a police officer is with him, it gives him a certain... protection should anything go wrong.

OOC: Yes, but Simon thinks that there is more evidence to be found, and he's operating under Canon law and Inquisitorial law.

Also, he believes the real killer to be either Princess Irene or Count Kryosal.

Besides, if a police officer is with him, it gives him a certain... protection should anything go wrong.

OOC: I thought you meant taking control of one of my policemen to conduct a police investigation. You're certainly welcome to conduct your own investigation. After you've spoken to Bastianel, speak to Vern about it.

In the royal throne of Jeruselem ...

Victoria announces "The leader of Elvish community is here to see you, your majesty." while the Queen adjusts her hairpit (a dagger as well). "Bring them in ..." Mariah announces.

Five elves in purple robes surrounded by Imperial Knights gracefully march in. They bow and the leader steps forward "The Elfish community petitions your majesty to assist us in convincing the Pantocratorian authorities to release Prince Bastianel from detention as we believe he is innocent and has been framed. Count Kryosal's suicide is a tragedy and strengthens our belief of his innocence. Please help us despite the rocky relations between our peoples and the crown".

The Queen considered her response "I cannot interfere in the investigations of the Pantocratorian authorities and will not do so. If he is found guilty, I will consider asking the Pantocratorian government not to execute him. You do realise execution would have been our punishment for the murder of Cardinal Duras as well.".

The leader responded "Prince Bastianel is honourable and does not mingle with shady characters. He is innocent and we do not want an injustice to happen."

The Queen pondered for a while and said "I will see what I can do, but it is not my place to judge if he is guilty or not. I will do my best, but cannot guarantee any results".

The leader responded "Thank you for you time. We hope the Prince will be found innocent and the real killer found". The elves bow again and leave. The guards shut the door and Victoria (Queen's PA) comments "I'm not an elf fan, but this prince seems to be popular and not the bad type.".

In Pantocratoria ...

The Latin Patriarch of Jeruselem is talking to newly arrived delegates. "Welcome Cardinal Brown and Inquisitor Lucius III. How is your day?". Lucius grumbles "I'm sick of hot sunny days. How about some nice cloud? God must be overworked this week.".

They walk into this private quarters. "I assume you are here to ask about the situation with the elven Prince? The Queen just sent a royal directive to negiotiate the execution not being gone through if he is found guilty. I will get meeting with appropiate authority." the Patriarch said. The others nodded. Cardinal Brown moans "and mention some illiterate official tried to microchip us as he did not recognise the Cross of Jeruselem."

Your Beatitude,

In response to your enquiry about the death penalty being applied to Bastianel Dephil in the case of the Emperor vs Dephil on the charge of Murder of a Worthy of the Realm:

It would be inappropriate at this time to discuss possible sentences. There is no crime other than treason for which the law demands the death penalty - sentencing is left within the discretion of the individual trial judge, and so long as it meets the minimum penalty required by precedent. Even if the accused had already been found guilty, it would be improper to discuss sentencing, as sentencing will be entirely within the discretion of the judge in the event that the accused is found guilty - neither the Imperial Government, the Office of the Crown Prosecutor, nor the executive of the Imperial Courts of Justice will be able to influence the sentence in the slightest.

The executive of the Imperial Courts of Justice feels that it would be jumping the proverbial gun to talk about sentencing at this time.

I have the pleasure to be Your Beatitude's humble servant,

The Right Honourable Secretary of the Executive,
Judge Gaston de Thessalonica

Thank you for responding to our concerns about execution or the death penalty regarding the trial of Prince Bastianel Dephil who is charged with the murder of Cardinal Duras. In our juristication, the murder of high official of the Catholic church carries the punishment of death pending any royal edict to suspend the execution by the King or Queen.

We hope the trial is fair and open with no contriversies or misdeeds during the trial from less honourable persons involved. Guilty or not guilty, we are interested in the outcome of the trial as to the impact on Christo-Elven relations in the future.

Queen of Jeruselem

Thank you for responding to our concerns about execution or the death penalty regarding the trial of Prince Bastianel Dephil who is charged with the murder of Cardinal Duras. In our juristication, the murder of high official of the Catholic church carries the punishment of death pending any royal edict to suspend the execution by the King or Queen.

We hope the trial is fair and open with no contriversies or misdeeds during the trial from less honourable persons involved. Guilty or not guilty, we are interested in the outcome of the trial as to the impact on Christo-Elven relations in the future.

Queen of Jeruselem

OOC: I actually addressed the letter to the Latin Patriarch of Jeruselem, who I believe was the person to say he was going to make enquiries about it. :D

It was a rainy night after all. The alley was a dark and lonely one. Cyanna never liked damp, dark, sinister places, but usually her job demanded her to spend a lot of time in those.

She was expecting her contact. The ShadowPrince had dispatched an agent to Pantocratoria the same day that Bastianel was imprisoned, but not any agent. The agent was the mythical Vorpalis, the ShadowMaiden, the undetectable. She was one of the best spies in the world, and a merciless assasin.

However, Cyanna knew that Vorpalis wasn't in Pantocratoria in a assasination mission. A shame. I would like to see that Princess Irene lying in the floor, her throat slit by an elven dagger, says Cyanna to herself.

Finally she saw a silouette entering the alley Maybe is just another drunk. The figure was covered by a ragged cloak, and when he approaches Cyanna a nasty stink of alcohol and vomit was surrounding him. Oh, no. Another stnking human. And for sure he want to hit on me. She puts her hand inside her purse, looking for the little ShadowBolt gun.

The figure suddenly says in Quenya, the High elvish language, with a mysterious female voice. "I have what you want. Take this, show it to the Pantocratorian authorities. I will take another copy of it to Aelosia. The hand of the ShadowPrince is behind this, so be careful. This is the last opportunity you got to rescue your beloved Bastianel. That if he doesn't kill himself after knowing the fate of his father and the marriage of the Princess Anna. Farewell, Cyanna. I will be watching you".

The figure suddenly dissapears, using a corner as a hideout. Cyanna was alone again in the alley, the rain hitting against her face. An envelope was in the floor. She picks up the envelope and starts her way back to the Aelosian embassy.

Oops, late night ... the Queen got the letter from him, say.

In Jeruselem ...

Hooded elf is dragged into a cell by knights and locked it. Inquisitor James IV looks at him and asks "What are doing sneaking around the royal garden? You do not have permission to be in the palace precinct". The elf is quiet and does not speak. James shouts "Speak up, elf. We found a knife and poison on you. Assassination? Well, you're a failure! I'll see you tommorow".

James leaves with the Knights keeping an eye on the elf. "I knew this job was a bad idea ... someone lied to me about the security around here." though the elf.

A police officer approaches Inspector Vern, who is still waiting for Bastianel and Simon Darquis to finish speaking.

"Inspector, I've just received word that the prisoner's father offed himself. Aelosian embassy wants you to tell him." says the officer.

"Any more information?" asks Vern, looking displeased that this fell to him.

"None. Oh and Inspector Girraud said something about a reprimand for Christine Gentil?" asks the officer.

"Ah, yes, that. Give her the usual choice, let her take the official reprimand or request that discipline be handled internally." says Vern.

"Yes, Inspector." says the officer.

'Internal discipline' was painful and humiliating, but at least it wouldn't end up on an official record and possibly compromise one's pension eligibility on retirement. He figured Christine would take the unofficial option. The officer leaves.

Vern turns to one of the cops guarding Bastianel's cell.

"You tell him about his father. I'm not allowed to speak to suspects without their representatives present." says Vern.

"I have nothing to confess" says Bastianel to the inquisitor "I hadn't committed any sins except for being too proud and dissobeying my father".

"And I have nothing in common with you, human. Not even the religion. You catholicism is just a bunch of lies. You humans didn't deserve such a good religion. Your church is corrupted and tainted, so don't talk about things in common between you and me"

Vern looked at his watch. He glanced in the cell. The moment Bastianel steps out of that confessional, I'm getting the Inquisitor back into the station house proper for a little chat. Nobody threatens my officers, no matter how important they are. he thinks to himself.

Meanwhile, in the Office of the Crown Prosecutor for New Rome...

Guillame Richemont was the most experienced prosecutor in the Office of the Crown Prosecutor in New Rome, and as such, he had been assigned the case of the murder of Cardinal Duras. He set aside the file he had been reading as two men in black Ministry for Cultural Development uniforms knocked on his door. He gestured to come in.

"Ah, officials Michael Zerba and Pierre Niccolau, I presume?" asks Richemont as they enter.

"Yes indeed. You're Monsieur Richemont?" asks Zerba. Richemont nods his reply.

The two officials enter the office, dragging a blonde-haired woman in a prison uniform into the office after them. Her hands are handcuffed behind her back, her pretty face is distorted by cruel purple bruises, and other marks of abuse are evident all over her exposed neck and forearms. There were probably such marks all over her body, obscured by the rough prison uniform. The two officials sit down in front of Richemont's desk, and the prisoner stands between them, looking at the floor. She sways where she stands, obviously exhausted.

Richemont shakes his head in disgust.

"You've beaten her then?" he observes in a disapproving tone.

"We interrogated her with all diligence and vigour appropriate to the situation." replies Zerba without batting an eyelid.

"What's your name, madamoiselle?" Richemont asks the prisoner, who mumbles inaudibly.

Niccolau strikes the prisoner in her side with his baton. She's unable to defend herself with her arms handcuffed behind her back, and the blow lands hard across her already fractured ribs. She gasps in pain and collapses to her knees.

"Monsieur!" protests Richemont. Niccolau grabs the woman by her hair and pulls her back up to her feet.

"Answer the man, wench!" Zerba barks to her.

"My... name... is... Genevieve Maire... monsieur." she says, struggling between gasps of air, gathering all her effort to answer. She almost falls over again, but Niccolau catches her by the arm and yanks her back up.

"My name is Guillame Richemont. I'm the crown prosecutor assigned to the case against Bastianel Dephil." Richemont introduces himself. "Now, Genevieve, you were the immigration official who injected the suspect with a tracking chip upon his arrival into the country, correct?"

"Yes monsieur." she replies, struggling to keep her head up, her gaze at Richemont.

"And he made a statement to you?" enquires Richemont.

"Yes... monsieur..." says Genevieve, glancing at Zerba and Niccolau, who both run their hands over their nightsticks threateningly. "...the Prince... he said... he killed Cardinal Duras."

"He just came out and said it?" Richemont asks suspiciously.

Genevieve glances at Zerba, and looks down at the floor, struggling to remember what she was supposed to say next. Zerba slaps her on her behind, and she looks back up at Richemont. Now she remembers.

"Yes monsieur... he was... trying to scare me.... he was making... sexual advances towards me." Genevieve stumbles through her words slowly.

"Why would he try to scare you if he was making sexual advances towards you, Genevieve?" asks Richemont.

"I said no... they were unwanted advances monsieur... I forgot to say..." she looks pleadingly at Zerba. "I'm sorry, I forgot to say it..."

Zerba rolls his eyes. He shoves Genevieve to the floor.

"Answer all of the Crown Prosecutor's questions fully!" he commands, as he pulls her back up by her hair.

"Monsieur Zerba! This is an interview with a witness, not what you and your other brutal peers would call a vigourous interrogation!" says Richemont, disgusted by the abuse.

"I'm sorry Monsieur Richemont." replies Zerba, although the tone in his voice makes it quite obvious he doesn't mean it.

"That will be all for now Genevieve." says Richemont.

"Thankyou monsieur..." says Genevieve. Zerba grabs her by the arm and drags her out of the office.

"Monsieur Niccolau, she can't be in that state at trial." warns Richemont.

"Oh don't worry about that, she'll be quite lucid by then. And any bruises which haven't healed will be concealed with make-up." says Niccolau.

"It's the appearance of impropriety, you understand?" cautions Richemont.

"Yes monsieur, I understand completely. Today's just not a good day for her. She hasn't slept for the past, oh... four or five days or so." explains Niccolau.

"Strange coincidence that a witness only has four days to recant a statement, eh?" asks Richemont cynically. These Ministry of Cultural Development creeps disgusted him. Their weren't bound by the same rules the police and other elements of the Ministry of Public Safety were, and they positively revelled in their cruel treatment of prisoners who were suspected of the most minor infractions of the law.

"Yes, monsieur. Strange coincidence indeed." says Niccolau as he stands up.

"I'll be in touch." says Richemont. Niccolau nods and leaves the office.

Vorpalis was hanging in the window outside of the room. Her mission was clear, eliminate that witness at any cost. Those were the words of the ShadowPrince about the matter. However, it was clear that all her statements were brought out with torture by those agents. Vorpalis was secret agent, skilled in assasinations and secret operations. Many of her missions implied despicable and dishonorable things, but anyway she always thought of torturers as cowards. They were hitting an unarmed and innocent woman, framed into this problem just because they needed an scapegoat.

Her statement was false, of course. Bastianel Dephil making unwarranted advances on a woman?. He was one of the most desirable bachelors in Aelosia, with hundreds of noble maidens willing to give to him whatever he asks for. That stupid and naive bard poisoning a Cardinal?. Vorpalis knew who was the real killer, she brewed the poison that killed the Cardinal all by herself. And that Bastianel can't kill even a fly, by her opinion. That Irene could be more intelligent, in Aelosia were hundreds of capable assasins, and she framed into this crime the most innocent elf in all the country.

She turned to see the photos that she had taken in the palace two days ago. The Princess Irene lying in bed with her confessor. This was the best blackmail material in all Pantocratoria. She gave the photos to Cyanna so she could trade Bastianel's freedom for the silence of the Aelosian goverment about this matter. It was a good plan, but when dealing with humans you never know. Sometimes they were too stubborn. Anyway that witness must die. It's a shame. I would prefer to kill her torturers. But....maybe she could make a better plan. What about rescuing the prisoner and make her tell the truth?. That would destroy the reputation of the Pantocratorian law and police system.

At the same time. Cyanna Paelisi was approaching to the gates of the Royal Palace of Pantocratoria, an envelope held close to her chest. She approaches the guards and says "I want an audience with the Imperial Chancellor. I have something really important to show her".

"Her Imperial Highness has just finished breakfast, and is in her office. I shall buzz you in. One of us will show you the way, as soon as your security check passes." says the Varangian Guard in a thick Swedish accent. He examines Cyanna's passcard, and reads the number into his walkie-talkie. He gets a reply in Swedish.

"Everything seems to be in order. I just need to check you for weapons." he says. He had drawn straws with the other guards for the privilege of being the man to check Cyanna for weapons. He gives her the once over with his wand, and then pats her down, taking as long as he dares.

"No weapons either. Sven will escort you to the Chancellor." he says.

Another Varangian, presumably Sven, approaches Cyanna.

"Please to be following me, missy." he says in faltering English. He guides Cyanna through the corridors of the palace. "So what is being in your envelope, eh?"

OOC: This Sven is the same idiot Varangian from the Courtship of Princess Anna thread. *hint* He might be worth your while to talk to.

<<Should have done this before, but... TAG>>

Why all human men are so obsessed with sex?. They always try to hit on me!. Maybe the elven women are very attactive to them, she says to herself, keeping that for later discussion. She looks at the guard accompanying her. "So, you're Sven right?. Sven the sweden", she couldn't stop a little chuckling. "You're the personal guard of Princess Irene?", she asks.

In Jeruselem ...

The elf remained silent despite the efforts of Inquisitor James IV. James looked frustrated and ready to kill the elven assassin. He thought "They have been trained to resist torture and drugs are generally ineffective. My success rate with elves is not too good. Not a peep so far. This is related to the murder of Duras, but I don't know why.".

James asked the elven assassin again "Who is your target? We know you are an eleven assassin and who is your client?". Silence greeted him. He clicked his fingers and a Knight walked with a orb and handed it to him.

He flicked a hidden switch and it started to glow. The elf grasped his head as if it will explode. James was unaffected and looked happy at his results. The elf screamed "Stop it! I will tell you all! My head is exploding!".

He turned of the device and looked at the elf "Tell me everything including anything to do with Cardinal Duras and his assassin.". "Give me some paper, I will write it all down" the elf still shaken was handed paper and a pen. He rubbed his eyes and started writing. James looked pleased.

"Sir, you'll note that there's a confessional booth up against the wall just here..." says on the police guards on the outside. "There's a chair and an intercom. The Inquisitor is on the other side. For protocol and security reasons I'm afraid we cannot let him in, sir."

OOC: The trial will begin as soon as Aelosia and Roania have finished RPing the confession.

"Hey, Bastaniel." Simon leaned forward. "I don't have much time, I'll be brief."

"I know it wasn't you, and I know you know who did it." Simon sighed. "We have so much in common, don't we. We both love the princess, and accept we've lost her, we both know you are innocent..."

He drew a crystal ball from his bag. It sparkled. "And we both come from nations far, far more advanced then Pantocratoria." Simon raises his voice. "Do you have anything you wish to say, My Son?"

He lowers it again. "When you get outside, I want you to stall. If you are found guilty, and later the truth comes out... the church would be damaged."

"Now, do you have anything you wish to say? I am bound by holy oaths and nothing you say will pass outside of these walls."

OOC: Hey, Aelosia! Heads up!

James was reading the assassin's confession.

"Looks like the target was one of our Pantocratoria guests who arrived yesterday. He works for the CDF, but knows the Pantocratoria royal family pretty well. He swears his client was a female too, but did not know who she was. He also mentions it was to cover something up with the Duras situation." James said to the Queen. The Queen looked concerned "So the poor old Aelosian prince was framed like my elven friends said he was. Make sure the CDF ambassador is protected and no more security breaches".

Why all human men are so obsessed with sex?. They always try to hit on me!. Maybe the elven women are very attactive to them, she says to herself, keeping that for later discussion. She looks at the guard accompanying her. "So, you're Sven right?. Sven the sweden", she couldn't stop a little chuckling. "You're the personal guard of Princess Irene?", she asks.

"No miss, I am just being a normal everyday Varangian Guard. We are being guarding all of the Imperial Family." says Sven. As he guides Cyanna he makes idle conversation.

"We are guarding not only Princess Irene, but also Princess Anna, Princess Zoë, Princess Theodora, Princess Jacqueline, Princess Helen, and Princess Marie. And not only are we guarding the Imperial womenfolk, but we are also guarding the menfolk." he says. "Are you being friendly with Princess Irene or any of the other Imperial Family? Are you giving her a present in that envelope?"

"They've beaten the statement out of her." Richemont says, disgusted, to the Crown Prosecutor of New Rome, Sir Matthieu Fiche, Knight of the Order of the Pantocrator.

"So it's false?" asks Sir Matthieu.

"Strangely, no. Well, it might be, but it seems to have lead to pretty solid forensic evidence in the DNA match." says Richemont.

"So you think the Ministry of Cultural Development tortured this woman..." says Sir Matthieu, looking at the case file. "...Maire... and got the truth out of her?"

"I'm not sure to be honest. But whether or not the statement is authentic, the DNA evidence it led to is compelling." Richemont concludes. "Anyway, I want her out of Cultural Development custody. 5 days after she's made her statement they're still beating her. They're worse than brutes, Sir Matthieu, it is just sickening."

"You don't know that they're still beating her, Guillame." says Sir Matthieu, shaking his head.

"I do, I tell you. The marks on her face and neck were fresh, and while she was standing in my office they beat her with their nightsticks for no conceivable reason. As if it wasn't bad enough, using torture to extract a confession - they're still torturing this poor woman, just for kicks. They're sadists!" Richemont complains.

"Very well, we'll have her released from Cultural Development custody. There are no charges filed against her." says Sir Matthieu.

"I think we should give her protective custody too." says Richemont.

"Why?" asks Sir Matthieu.

"Well..." Richemont says. "Bastianel managed to get into the Vortex Corporation unseen to poison Cardinal Duras. His underlings might be all over the city without us knowing it. She's not safe."

"So, you want to get Madamoiselle Maire out of Cultural Development custody because they tortured her to make this case, but you want to put her in protective custody because you believe this Bastianel Dephil has the wherewithal to get to her on the outside." says Sir Matthieu, incredulously.

"That's correct." says Richemont. "I've no evidence that the statement isn't true, and the DNA evidence is compelling - and Cultural Development had nothing to do with the DNA evidence. The charge against Bastianel Dephil is good, Sir Matthieu, and I'm worried for anybody on our witness list, particularly a woman our system has already brutalised."

"Guillame, don't get caught up on that, that's Cultural Development who did that, not us, not Public Safety, not the police." says Sir Matthieu.

"No, but we're benefitting from it. It sickens me. Anyway, can we get Genevieve Maire into protective custody? Somewhere where she can be safe from those Cultural Development thugs and from Aelosian assassins." says Richemont.

"If these assassins are as good as I hear they are, protective custody won't help at all." says Sir Matthieu unhappily as he dials the Ministry of Cultural Development.

"We have to try." says Richemont. "We have to try to make things right."

Sir Matthieu nods as he starts to organise Genevieve Maire's release from the brutal custody of the Ministry of Cultural Development.

"I have nothing to confess" says Bastianel to the inquisitor "I hadn't committed any sins except for being too proud and dissobeying my father".

"And I have nothing in common with you, human. Not even the religion. You catholicism is just a bunch of lies. You humans didn't deserve such a good religion. Your church is corrupted and tainted, so don't talk about things in common between you and me"

OOC: Here's your response, Roania.

IC:

Cyanna looks at Sven and says "Of course this is a gift, we elves want to convince her that we aren't the monsters that she believes we are". She smiles at the guard Maybe I can take advantage of my attractive to humans this time. She puts her hand on his arm and says "And you, What do you think about us, the elves?. Do you think that I could be a bloodthristy demon looking for the annihilation of humankind?".

Vorpalis followed the guards taking the woman. She should act quickly beofre they put her in a jail. The difficult part wasn't killing the agents, but to rescue the beaten woman out of here. She cocks her twins ShadowBolt handguns, and turn on her Ellosär cloak to make her almost invisible, waiting for the perfect moment.

OOC: Aelosia, I believe what Roania was saying was that you haven't indicated to those outside the booth that your confession is over - my cops don't know for example.

Also, the hint with Sven involves reading through his interaction with the Zusayans in the Courtship thread - I know it might take some time to find, but there's something there which you might find helpful. If you're not interested in it, we can move right onto the Chancellor.

IC:
"I am being liking elves very much. You are being almost as pretty as Princess Theodora. Your menfolk are not being very manly, though." says Sven. "The Chancellor's office is not being very far from here, miss."

As the two Ministry of Cultural Development officials fling the handcuffed Genevieve Maire into their black car, a police officer rushes out after them.

"Gentlemen, on the orders of the Crown Prosecutor, verified by your manager, you are to surrender that prisoner into our protective custody." says the officer. He thrusts a faxed sheet of paper into Zerba's face.

Guillame Richemont steps out of the building to stand beside the officer.

"Gentlemen, it's all legitimate, I assure you." he says.

Zerba begrudgingly yanks Genevieve out of the car by her hair and shoves her into Richemont, who catches her as she collapses into him.

"You keep her then." he says spitefully. "After all, she's your witness."

Zerba enjoyed tormenting his prisoners. He had relished in the opportunity to strike a blow for Pantocratorian culture and the human race by obtaining the statement which had allowed Bastianel Dephil's DNA to be linked to the DNA found on the crime scene. And he had found the way he had gone about obtaining that statement particularly enjoyable. The five days of torture which had followed after Genevieve's will to resist had been eroded, after she had already started to say whatever Zerba wanted her to say about Bastianel, about anything, had been purely for his own enjoyment. He felt a pang of regret now - he regretted that he wouldn't be able to continue torturing the young woman.

"You sicken me." says Richemont to Zerba as he sees Genevieve Maire's injuries close-up. She struggles to remain conscious. "She told you what we needed days ago, how could you keep..."

"I don't tell you how to do your job prosecutor. Don't tell me how to do mine, monsieur." says Zerba coldly. He and Niccolau get into their car and pull off.

"Do we have a skeleton key or something with which to remove these handcuffs, officer?" Richemont asks the cop.

"I'll see, monsieur. First we need to get her inside." says the cop.

The two men lift Genevieve up and carry her inside the office. They head down to the cell block beneath, where there are several secure underground apartments for witnesses in protective custody.

Batianel exits the confessionary, and turns to the guards. "I have finish with that". Then he takes the bible on his room and sits in the bed, opening the book and reading some pages.

At the same time, Cyanna says to Sven, walking to the entrance of the Princess Irene's chambers. "So, Had you ever heard or see something unusual about the royal family?. I'm sure you know all their secrets and their affairs...you looks like a very perceptive man"

Vorpalis was ready to act when Richemont appears, and takes the prisoner away. "Damn. I lost my opportunity. However, I won't leave this country without a little payback".

She crosses the alley, appearing in front of the Zerba's car. Her silouette was nothing more than a shadow in the corner of the street. She raised her twin silenced guns and opened fire against the driver and the passenger, hoping to kill Zerba.

"Holy Mother of God!" shouts Zerba as the apparition appears in front of the car.

"Jesu!" exclaims Niccolau as Vorpalis opens fire. Zerba's head is half blown apart by the bullet, and the car goes screaming out of control into a building's wall, sending Niccolau flying through the front windshield and into the bricks, killing him instantly.

A police officer on his coffee break at a café across the road drops his sandwich and stands up. He thought he heard a shot. He looks around to see if he can see the shooter, but he can't see anyone. He draws his revolver just in case, and rushes across the street to see if either man survived.

Batianel exits the confessionary, and turns to the guards. "I have finish with that". Then he takes the bible on his room and sits in the bed, opening the book and reading some pages.

The guard knocks on the cell door and peers in through the bars.

"Sir, pardon me, sir." he says. "Sir, it is my melancholy duty to inform you of your father's passing. Your government informed us while you were in the confessional. I'm sorry sir."

At the same time, Cyanna says to Sven, walking to the entrance of the Princess Irene's chambers. "So, Had you ever heard or see something unusual about the royal family?. I'm sure you know all their secrets and their affairs...you looks like a very perceptive man"

"I am hearing and seeing a lot, and I am being very discreet about it miss." says Sven, seriously. "I have told very few people about the time I am seeing Princess Theodora with a young officer in a pub I am going to with my fellow soldiers, for example. I have being telling even less people about the photographs I am being taking of her after she left the pub with the officer in the carpark."

"My friend Erik is suggesting to me that perhaps this is why she is being getting such a harsh penance at confession, but I am not understanding this, she would have to be being stupid to tell a priest that she is being sinning at confession!" says Sven, rolling his eyes.

"My friend Erik he thinks I am not being so perceptive, but really he is just being jealous because he didn't see Princess Theodora naked. I was only proving that I am more perceptive than him when I showed him the photos, he wouldn't believe me otherwise. Erik is very jealous!" concludes Sven.

Vorpalis sees the policeman running to the place of the car crash. Time to erase any evidence. She throws a little grenade under the car. The grenade contains black napalm, capable of erasing all tracks in the bodies and in the vehicle. They will recognize them by their dental records, maybe. Then she quickly dissapears in the shadows of the alley.

Cyanna looks at the guard with surprise "Isn't Theodora the young sister?. The one that was in the Prince Tharn encampment?. She looks like a very respectable kid, however. And you're a very interesting guy. Erik is just a jerk, jealous of your skills", she prepares for the next step "So, you like to take photos...maybe I could exchange those photos of yours. Had you ever seen a naked elf maiden?"

Bastianel looks at the guard "My father. Pass by?. What do you mean?. I don't understand you. My goverment...wait a minute, the representative of Aelosia had just left...Cyanna would had told me that...". His face was strangely weird, like a man who's near the edge of sanity.

Guillame Richemont looks on as the police officer saws off Genevieve Maire's handcuffs. They had taken her down to a comfortable, if plain, apartment in the holding cells beneath the Office of the Crown Prosecutor. She wasn't a prisoner, she was being kept in this secure location for her own safety.

Genevieve is still sobbing, not quite sure whether her ordeal is over yet.

"Ssssshhh..." says Richemont, soothingly. "You're safe now. Those thugs can't get you here. You're in protective custody. Nobody can get you here. As soon as we have these cuffs off you, you can sleep."

"I'm... so tired..." says Genevieve.

"There's a bathroom just over there if you want to have a nice hot bath. We've got a doctor on staff here too, if you'd like to see one." offers Richemont.

"I just want... to sleep..." says Genevieve. The police officer finally frees the cuffs from her wrists. She rubs her wrists as the officer helps her over to the bed.

"I'll tell the doctor to see you in the morning, when you're rested up. When you've recovered a little, I'll talk to you about this case." says Richemont. He nods to Genevieve and leaves.

"Have a good night's sleep, madamoiselle." says the officer as Genevieve lays down. He leaves after Richemont.

Richemont returns to his office, and picks up his phone.

"Janice, arrange a meeting with Bastianel Dephil and his representative, what's her name... Cyanna... oh some elven thing I can't get my tongue around. I want to see them first thing tomorrow, at the station house. I'll meet them in his cell." he says.

Bastianel looks at the guard "My father. Pass by?. What do you mean?. I don't understand you. My goverment...wait a minute, the representative of Aelosia had just left...Cyanna would had told me that...". His face was strangely weird, like a man who's near the edge of sanity.

"Sir, I'm sorry. I meant to say that... he is no longer on this Earth. He died sir. I... I'm very sorry sir." says the policeman. He genuinely admired Count Kyrosal, whom he had read about when he became a Knight of the Order of the Pantocrator. "Sir, if you need anything or anybody, please, tell me."

The officer turns to his fellow and whispers: "Better put him on suicide watch, the poor bugger is taking this badly."

The other cop nods, and whispers into his walkie talkie.

"Wait...WAIT!. He died?...How?, He was killed?, my father was an old elf, but his health was perfect, and we elves are inmortal!. Who killed him!...TELL ME!", Bastianel hits the bars with his bare fist, his face red with impotence and anger "He was my only family...he...always took care of me". Several tears appears in his eyes, but he contains his sadness. This wasn't the time to show weakness. He needs to be strong, his father wouldn't liked to see him like that".

Cyanna looks at the guard with surprise "Isn't Theodora the young sister?. The one that was in the Prince Tharn encampment?. She looks like a very respectable kid, however. And you're a very interesting guy. Erik is just a jerk, jealous of your skills", she prepares for the next step "So, you like to take photos...maybe I could exchange those photos of yours. Had you ever seen a naked elf maiden?"

Sven's jaw dropped.

"Gagaga... no.. miss... I am not being seeing a naked elf maiden... hurr..." he stammers. "Theodora is not being a respectable kid though I can be assuring you though miss. She is being a big scandal. So... err... you want my photos eh.... so... when would I get to... err... see this err... the elf maiden being naked ja...."

"Wait...WAIT!. He died?...How?, He was killed?, my father was an old elf, but his health was perfect, and we elves are inmortal!. Who killed him!...TELL ME!", Bastianel hits the bars with his bare fist, his face red with impotence and anger "He was my only family...he...always took care of me". Several tears appears in his eyes, but he contains his sadness. This wasn't the time to show weakness. He needs to be strong, his father wouldn't liked to see him like that".

"Sir, please calm down. Your father perished..." the officer swallows hard. He really doesn't want to be cruel about this. "...well sir, he didn't die naturally."

"Pardon me sir, you deserve to know, I'm being a coward by not telling you." the officer says. "Sir, according to what the Aelosian government has said, Count Kyrosal died... by his own hand sir."

She pulls up a little her skirt, showing part of her well formed leg to Sven, then she loose a pair of buttons from her shirt. "This is just a little part of it. After I speak with the Chancellor, you will see more, maybe even you can touch, just be sure to bring your camera" This is pathetic, but Bastianel deserves my best effort. All men are crazy about me, except him, my only love.

"But...about those photos of yours, Do you have them with you?" says Cyanna with a smart smile.

She pulls up a little her skirt, showing part of her well formed leg to Sven, then she loose a pair of buttons from her shirt. "This is just a little part of it. After I speak with the Chancellor, you will see more, maybe even you can touch, just be sure to bring your camera" This is pathetic, but Bastianel deserves my best effort. All men are crazy about me, except him, my only love.

"But...about those photos of yours, Do you have them with you?" says Cyanna with a smart smile.

"Hurrr...." groans Sven, pulling his jaw back up. "Erm... no... they are in my quarters... I'll go get them... oh.... so... where will I be meeting you... and when?"

He blinks in anticipation as they reach the massive doors to Princess Irene's apartments.

"What?....WHAT?. That's impossible, my father would never do that!. He would never commit suicide. He was an elf, and a christian. That's a lie... Stay away from me!...SHUT UP!". That was too much for him. His will crumbled. He falls in the bed, crying. Now I have lost everything. My name, my family, my father, my freedom, I curse the day that I entered in this country, I don't have any more reasons to live

"What?....WHAT?. That's impossible, my father would never do that!. He would never commit suicide. He was an elf, and a christian. That's a lie... Stay away from me!...SHUT UP!". That was too much for him. His will crumbled. He falls in the bed, crying. Now I have lost everything. My name, my family, my father, my freedom, I curse the day that I entered in this country, I don't have any more reasons to live
"Sir..." the officer says in vain. "Please... do you want to speak to someone? A counsellor? Your representative? Is there someone in your country you'd like to call on the phone to speak to?"

"Sit down, he'll be fine. They're going to kill him anyway." mutters the other cop.

"Once I finish with this, meet me in the back garden of the Aelosian embassy, at midnight. There's a nice cabin over there, with some really nice trees around, and it's private..." she puts her hand on Sven's cheek "But only if you promise that you're going to be a very rude lover, and remember to bring those photos with you".

"Once I finish with this, meet me in the back garden of the Aelosian embassy, at midnight. There's a nice cabin over there, with some really nice trees around, and it's private..." she puts her hand on Sven's cheek "But only if you promise that you're going to be a very rude lover, and remember to bring those photos with you".

"Urauh...." Sven groans. "I cannot help but be rude.... ah.... I will be getting those photos... and I will be seeing you there..."

He opens the door to the Chancellor's apartments for Cyanna, and guides her in. He closes the door behind her, and looks down. He bends over quickly and walks funny as he scampers away. The other Varangians stationed about the door give him odd looks.

Princess Irene looks up from her desk at Cyanna.

"Welcome, counsellor." she says curtly. She glances at the Varangians in the room, and when she's confident in her safety, she goes on. "What do you want, elf?"

"Good night, Princess Irene..." says Cyanna, then she switch her tone "I want to talk to you, human. You and me knows that Bastianel is in jail because you wanted it. I have a gift here to be exchanged for the freedom of the minstrel. Maybe you should take a look at this".

She give the envelope to one of the guards "If Bastianel is not free by tomorrow, that document will be sent to the head of the Pantocratorian church, to the Emperor and to the main newspapers". Cyanna looks at the Princess Irene with a challenge written in her eyes.

Irene holds out her hand. The Varangian walks towards her and hands Irene the envelope. She opens it and glances at the contents. She blanches, all the colour draining from her face.

"Leave us." she mumbles. The Varangians salute, and leave the chamber.

Irene looks up at Cyanna with desperate eyes.

"You can't do this to me..." she says, pleading. All the steel is gone from her voice - she sounds frightened. "...please."

"I should do it. You destroyed Bastianel's life, the life of the being that I love most in this universe. You forced Count Kyrosal to kill himself, after you dishonored him. And I know that if you were in my position you with no doubt would destroy me without mercy", says Cyanna, her eyes an iron curtain, cold and hard.

"However, and you should praise to Lady Luck for that, I'm not you. I just want Bastianel's freedom. I won't say a word about those photos, and my goverment neither. Here are the conditions. First, Bastianel should be free by tomorrow, I don't care how. Second, he will abandon Pantocratoria unharmed tomorrow night. Third, you will visit Aelosia in this same year, and be the guest of the ShadowPrince, to learn how the elves really are. This are our conditions, if you met them, we will destroy all evidence and forget about this matter. We elves are not devils, just free spirits looking for a quiet place to live. Even after everything that happened, I don't hate you, because I know that you're just misguided about how to treat our race. I hope that in the future you learn how to deal with us, and be, if not an Elf-Friend, at least not an Elf-hater", she smiled at Princess Irene. "You should never had watched that movie from Iesus Christi. Now you know that elves are not demons posed against you"

Cyanna turns around, heading for the door. "Remember, Bastianel needs be free by tomorrow", she says before she leaves the room.

"Wait!" cries Irene, tears slowly running down from her eyes in the first time in years. "How should I release him? It is out of my hands! Oh God have mercy on me.... what should I do?"

"It was easy for you to put him in jail, I suppose it's easy to free him too", says Cyanna, not being too rude, but not giving an inch "Don't cry, you should think, maybe the emperor can grant an indult to Bastianel or something like that".

"As far as I know, your ministry raised those accusations, you could make it drop the case and close it. I suppose you know better the Pantocratorian law than me, search for a solution, but search it fast, Bastianel must be in Aelosia by tomorrow night".

"One more thing. I want to have an interview with that girl, the one that testified against Bastianel, tomorrow", says Cyanna, knowing that she have the upper hand now.

"I'm the Chancellor, not the Minister for Public Safety, and even if I was, the case in the hands of the Crown Prosecutor now..." Irene says, worrying. "I have no power over the Crown Prosecutor!"

She fumbles for her desk telephone, and picks it up.

"I'll call Sir Matthieu..." she softly as she dials. "This is the Chancellor, put me on to the Crown Prosecutor... Sir Matthieu, this is the Chancellor... I'm not so good Sir Matthieu. Listen, I need you to drop this case against the Aelosian, Bastianel... Do I have to explain the reasons? ...Well, I have reason to believe that the evidence against him was, well, fake... I may have perverted the investigation Sir Matthieu... I gave instructions that Bastianel was to be regarded as a suspect... Perhaps this DNA evidence was found by an underling, well, to satisfy what they perceived as my demands... Please Sir Matthieu, you must drop it... You can't?"

Irene almost drops the phone. She holds it up to her ear again.

"Listen Sir Matthieu, get your man on the case to investigate every piece of evidence the police gave him... if there is even the slightest thing suspicious about the circumstances around the finding of any piece, dismiss the case, can you at least do that? ...Well that will have to do, Sir Matthieu. You tell your man to find it, and to find it by tomorrow night. And tell him to make that witness available to Bastianel's representative." she says, before hanging up.

"Please, I'll do my best, but as you can see, I have no authority over this prosecution." pleads Irene. "It would destroy me if you gave these photographs to anybody, not just me... the man I love. Please, I have never, never loved anyone before Michél!"

She looks into Cyanna's eyes, and the hope disappears from her own.

"But you hate me. And why wouldn't you?" she concludes, and slumps her head forward, looking down at the photographs of her and Father Michél Guillot.

"Is she mad?" complains Richemont as Sir Matthieu catches him on his way out of the office.

"No Guillame, she asks that you work on this throughout the night. She has reason to believe that some of the evidence is tainted." says the old knight.

"How would she know? Did she do the tainting herself?" mutters Richemont.

"I got the distinct impression that even though she may not have been involved in the specifics, she at least gave the order to have this man framed. But of course, she didn't say as much. Look, look into it. If the case is still air-tight, then we'll proceed. But if that man is in a prison under false pretences... He must be let go. The reputation of our justice system is at stake." says Sir Matthieu gravely.

"And this other demand, about making Genevieve Maire available to her representative tomorrow, patently absurd! Genevieve Maire is a wreck, we'll be lucky if she has the energy to form full sentences tomorrow, it will be plainly obvious that her statement is coerced." says Richemont.

"Perhaps, but it isn't illegal to coerce a truthful statement out of a witness, at least not for the Ministry of Cultural Development, as disdainful as you and I are personally of the practice." says Sir Matthieu.

"I tell you, if the PFP wants my vote at this election..." Richemont mutters angrily as he walks back to his office.

"JANICE!" he shouts as he sits down. "I need a pot of coffee, I'll be in all night. And get me the Duras case's files will you? And don't even think that you're going home either!"

Cyanna looks at the Princess Irene with the same steel eyes, but her iron will begins to fail as she realizes how desperate the woman was "No, you're mistaken. I don't hate you, maybe I despise you a little, but hate is not an elven feeling. I won't open my mouth about those photos, I give you my word, as long as you work to free Bastianel and to understand the elves. Bastianel is the man I have loved all my life, since I was a little girl. You take care of the safety of my beloved, and I will protect the secret about yours. It's a deal?".

"At the beginning I thought that you were unable to love someone, that you were some kin of devil, trying to destroy everything you touch. But now you tell me that you love this man, and I read in your eyes that it's true. Then, if you love him and try to protect him, Why you couldn't understood that Kyrosal loved his son, that Bastianel loved Anna?, Why you destroyed their lives if they never harmed you in any way?"

"Now, Can you answer me one question?. Why, in the name of Isha, you hate the elves so much?. What we did to you to deserve such a deep hatred and resentment?" Cyanna almost shout the last words, unable to comprehend Irene's actions, overcome with impotence.

"I have nothing to confess" says Bastianel to the inquisitor "I hadn't committed any sins except for being too proud and dissobeying my father".

"And I have nothing in common with you, human. Not even the religion. You catholicism is just a bunch of lies. You humans didn't deserve such a good religion. Your church is corrupted and tainted, so don't talk about things in common between you and me"

OOC: Here's your response, Roania.

Simon laughed. "It's amazing how quickly you elves forget your friends. You insult us Roanians? I doubt Lady Sirithril would like that much. I want to help you. Call me a sentimentalist if you want, but I am your friend, and the Prince would never forgive me if I let an elf get executed. Not only am I your friend, but I am the only person in this country who believes you."

Cyanna looks at the Princess Irene with the same steel eyes, but her iron will begins to fail as she realizes how desperate the woman was "No, you're mistaken. I don't hate you, maybe I despise you a little, but hate is not an elven feeling. I won't open my mouth about those photos, I give you my word, as long as you work to free Bastianel and to understand the elves. Bastianel is the man I have loved all my life, since I was a little girl. You take care of the safety of my beloved, and I will protect the secret about yours. It's a deal?".

Princess Irene nods.

"At the beginning I thought that you were unable to love someone, that you were some kin of devil, trying to destroy everything you touch. But now you tell me that you love this man, and I read in your eyes that it's true. Then, if you love him and try to protect him, Why you couldn't understood that Kyrosal loved his son, that Bastianel loved Anna?, Why you destroyed their lives if they never harmed you in any way?"

"Now, Can you answer me one question?. Why, in the name of Isha, you hate the elves so much?. What we did to you to deserve such a deep hatred and resentment?" Cyanna almost shout the last words, unable to comprehend Irene's actions, overcome with impotence.

Irene moves her mouth but no words come out. I hate you because you're different, inhuman. You're beneath contempt, your culture is alien to us, your lifespans unimaginable to us. This world was created for man, for his dominion, and subordinate to him are all the beasts of the animal kingdom. You're not humans, so that means you're animals, subordinate to our will, and yet you carry on with your elven arrogance and smug superiority... she thinks to herself, seething, but she dares not say it, less Cyanna's pity fade away, and the agreement between the two be broken.

"I don't know..." Irene mumbles. "I've hated elves for as long as I can remember... I can't remember why now..."

Sven stands in front of a small cabin behind the Aelosian embassy, carrying a large envelope, presumably filled with photographs. Around his neck hangs his camera. He's out of uniform and unarmed, but the fact that he is a Varangian is quite obvious - his Scandinavian heritage marks him out from the ordinary Pantocratorian.

He fidgets with his camera nervously, waiting. He opens up the envelope and pulls out a photograph of Princess Theodora, partially disrobed, in the embrace of a young gentlemen who is himself partially disrobed from his army uniform, the back seat of a car. Sven grins and whistles.

"I knew these photographs would be paying off for me soon!" he says to no-one in particular, in anticipation.

Guillame Richemont finishes his third cup of coffee and rubs his weary eyes before returning his attention to the page in front of him. After a few minutes, something picques his interest and he grabs a few other sheets from various piles on his desk. He lays them all down next to each other, and circles a name which occurs on all three.

"Janice!" he shouts to his exhausted secretary, who obediently comes into the room.

"Monsieur Richemont, can I go home yet?" she asks. "I've got a babysitter waiting and..."

"Not yet Janice. Now, I want you to pull all of the memos the Ministry of Public Safety has sent to this office, and check all of them for the name 'Pierre Bulgar'. Any of them with his name on it, bring here. Now, get going!" he says, his energy returning to him despite the late hour.

The dismay in Janice's face is evident, but she nods and walks down the hall to the records room.

Richemont picks up his phone and dials.

"This is Guillame Richement of the New Rome Crown Prosecutor's office. I want to speak to the operational director of case CX0345. Yes, believe me, I know what time it is... Listen, I don't care, wake him!" he says.

"François, its Richemont here. Yes, I know what time it is! The Chancellor herself asked that I work on this throughout the night... Yes, I'm being serious... No, I'm not drunk, I'm in the office. Now listen to me François..." Richemont says into the phone. "I've got the same name which keeps appearing in some shape or form on these evidence forms... Pierre Bulgar... it looks like every piece of evidence which the police received from your department has Monsieur Bulgar's name on it, and I'd like to know why. His name appears on one form as the clerk who filed the form, on another as the investigating officer, and on the toxicology report as the manager authorising the toxicologist's budget. So what does Bulgar do exactly?"

Inspector Vern realises that Bastianel is out of the confessional and knocks on the door to Darquis' side.

"Inquisitor! Your pentitent has left the confessional, so what are you still doing in there?" he says impatiently. "I'd like to speak to you in my office at your earliest possible convenience. It's up on level 4, it'll be the only one with the lights on."

Vern glances at his watch and growls.

"Then you should learn not to hate us. I will leave now, and I will keep my word. I can't trust that you will do the same thing, but I hope that you will. I have some others thing to do tonight, I'm leaving now". Cyanna turns and leaves the Chancellor's chambers That woman hasn't learned the lesson, I saw in her eyes the hatred and resentment boiling against us again. We must be aware of her, she's powerful, dangerous and desperate. However, as long as we keep some power over her, I think we can rest calmed.


An hour later, a figure dressed in a white nightgown approaches the little cabin in the backyard of the Aelosian embassy. A soft, sweet elven voice says "Sven, baby, Are you inside there?".

"JA JA!" says Sven over-eagerly from the inside. "Is that being you Miss Cyanna? Please to come in now!"

Sven breathes into his hands to check his breath. He almost knocks himself out, but finds he doesn't have a mint in his pocket. He shrugs and opens the door.

It wasn't Cyanna. It was another woman, with dark hair and a long scar in her cheek. She raises a silenced gun into Sven's face saying, "Hi, Sven, the photos please". She shows an envelope in her other hand. "I have what you want here, now give me the photos".

Princess Irene slumps back in her chair and swallows hard. A back door in the office opens, and Father Guillot enters. Irene hears the footsteps before she realises who it is, and hurriedly hides the photos in her drawyer. She spins around in her chair and breathes a sigh of relief.

"Irene, you've been crying..." says Father Michél Guillot, amazed. "Whatever is wrong?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing Michél..." Irene lies. She stands and quickly walks over to the priest, and hugs him, leaning on him for support as she does so.

"Who upset you like this?" demands Father Guillot.

"Nobody, Michél, it's alright. I'm fine, I promise." Irene says unconvincingly.

"Was it the Emperor?" he asks.

"No!" Irene shakes her head vigourously.

"You're not going to tell me are you?" asks Father Guillot, disappointed.

"I can't, Michél." Irene says. "Let's just retire for the evening."

She kisses him briefly.

"I'll be ready in about half an hour. Tell my handmaidens you're there to hear my confession." she whispers to him.

Guillot nods and leaves. Irene returns to her desk, and pulls the photos out of the drawyer. She walks over to the fireplace, and throws them on the fire.

"That elf bitch could've made so many copies of these, this is so pointless." she mutters to herself, starting to cry again. "She'll go to the papers with them no matter what I do. Even if she does stick to her word, I can't possibly undo this thing so quickly... She'll destroy me... I'll never see Michél again!"

She pauses, and wipes the tears out of her eyes, the familiar steely determination returning to them. She walks over to her desk in silence, and picks up the phone.

"Get me the Aelosian embassy." she says. "I have a message to leave for Cyanna Kaliesstri, or Paelisi, whatever her name is. Tell her that I will do my best to do what she asks, but that the Emperor could do what she wants with just a word, if she can persuade him to do it."

She hangs up the phone, and leaves to her bedroom.

It wasn't Cyanna. It was another woman, with dark hair and a long scar in her cheek. She raises a silenced gun into Sven's face saying, "Hi, Sven, the photos please". She shows an envelope in her other hand. "I have what you want here, now give me the photos".

"Oh but I thought I would be getting..." Sven pauses, and looks at the gun. "...well, I thought I would be getting more than just more photos."

Sven may be stupid, but he is still a highly trained Varangian Guard. He examines the situation, but quickly determines that the chances of him disarming the woman before she could pull the trigger were minimal if what he had heard about elven reflexes was true. He acquiesces.

"But I suppose Miss Cyanna is only saying that I would be getting photos for sure. A shame." he says, holding out his envelope. "Show me one of the photos so I know I at least have what I am being promised, and then we trade at the same time, OK?"

She backs off a pair of steps and says "Here you are", showing many photographs of naked elven maidens. "You have more than you asked for, now just give me the photos. Did you really think that Cyanna Paelisi, the daughter of the Admiral Paelisi and the minister of Foreign Affairs was going to lie in bed with you?. If she touched you, you have enough material to give you pleasure yourself for the rest of your life. Now...I could do an exception myself, you look like a very strong lad..." says Vorpalis, looking at the huge form of the guard..."Do you mind if I change places with Cyanna?"

OOC: There seem to be two Cyannas, because you originally called her Kaliesstri, and you are now calling her Paelisi, is this intentional?

She backs off a pair of steps and says "Here you are", showing many photographs of naked elven maidens. "You have more than you asked for, now just give me the photos. Did you really think that Cyanna Paelisi, the daughter of the Admiral Paelisi and the minister of Foreign Affairs was going to lie in bed with you?. If she touched you, you have enough material to give you pleasure yourself for the rest of your life. Now...I could do an exception myself, you look like a very strong lad..." says Vorpalis, looking at the huge form of the guard..."Do you mind if I change places with Cyanna?"

Sven shrugs.

"That depends, are you still going to be pointing that gun at me?" he asks, as he hands over his envelope and takes Vorpalis' envelope. He manages a hopeless smile.

"It could be interesting for me, but you would be feeling uncomfortable". She throws the gun in the grass, away from the cabin, and approaches Sven. "We have just one night, make it worthy".

Sven grins.

"I like one-night stands, ja!"

***

The photographs Sven handed Vorpalis show the 15 year old Princess Theodora being inappropriately intimate in the backseat of a car in a nightclub's parking lot with an anonymous army officer. This is presumably the sin for which she received the humiliating penance of not being able to join her family at Mass, instead kneeling in front of the Imperial Box, which scandalised the Pantocratorian tabloids some months back.

OOC: Oh, I just confounded her with another character with the Kaliesstri name. Her real name is Paelisi, the House of the Courtiers. I'm sorry :oops:

IC:

The morning after, Vorpalis was in the Cyanna's office, a strange smile crossing the assasin's face.

"More blackmail material. This country seems to be full of it. All the imperial family are involved in morbid affairs. This is a two bladed sword. We can use this to get a indult for Bastianel from the Emperor, but Theodora is innocent of all the crimes committed against the elves in Pantocratoria, as is the Emperor. If we use this material, we will harm innocent people, who had nothing against the elves", says Cyanna, worried about the content of the guard's envelope.

"So what do you want me to do?. Burn those things after all the work that we had to find them?", says Vorpalis, in a sharp tone "In my humble opinion, the Emperor and the Princess can go to hell. Our directive is to take out Bastianel from this country, that's all".

"Yes, but we won't punish any innocents in our way. We want to prove that elves are honorable and fair people, give those photos to Princess Theodora, and warn her about the danger. We will push the Chancellor again, and trust in her abilities.", Cyanna was determined, no innocents could be harmed in the processs, that would turn her into"Go and find the Princess, give her the photos, and tell her what's happening. I will go to visit Bastianel. We have a meeting with some people of the department of justice today. Why are you smiling Vorp?, I haven't see you so happy since the prom night, one hundred years ago".

The assasin grinned "Something happened last night that hadn't happened since the prom night, one hundred years ago".

Richemont had managed to catch a whole 45 minutes of sleep before his scheduled meeting with Cyanna Paelisi. He had quickly showered, shaved, and changed into a fresh suit. He was well into his second wind (and fourth pot of coffee) by this stage, after a night of burning the midnight oil examining the evidence in the case with a fine-toothed comb.

He sat waiting in his office. His secretary, Janice, had the day off, and her position was being filled by a temp, who was terrible at making coffee, which Richemont fancied wasn't a great way to start the day.

Irene nervously and softly spoke into her bedroom phone, while Father Guillot was still asleep in her bed.

"Sir Matthieu, did your man find any evidence of evidence-tampering?" she asks. "Something suspicious... but no hard proof yet?... Sir Matthieu, you simply must do everything in your power to get this thing done away with... Why? Well, it is a diplomatic nightmare of course, and there are other policy issues at play here, not to mention that I, er, may have inadvertantly perverted the course of the investigation with my suggestion that Bastianel Dephil be a suspect.... Yes, well, see that justice is done, Sir Matthieu, of course, I wouldn't presume to tell you how to do your job.... I'm sorry... Aurevoir Sir Matthieu."

Irene hangs up. Michél starts to yawn as he wakes up.

"Good morning!" says Michél. "What are you doing out of bed?"

Irene walks back to the bed.

"Sssh!" she says. "Not a word."

Michél shrugs as Irene gets back into bed.

Cyanna and Vorpalis splits in the door of the embassy. The spy was heading to the palace, trying to find Princess Theodora and give her the photos, and the courtier was going to meet with some guy called Richemont.

Cyanna reaches the doors of the jail where's Bastianel is confined, telling to the guard "Good Morning. I'm here to attend a meeting with Mr. Richemont. Can I see Bastianel?".

Meanwhile Vorpalis was disguised as a poet, reaching the gates of the palace and telling to the first guard she meets "I want to talk with Sven, Is he around here?"

Guillame Richemont arrives at the jail beneath the stationhouse, which was only a brief drive from the Office of the Crown Prosecutor. He grabs another cup of coffee from the machine in the station on his way to Bastianel's cell.

Arriving outside the cell door where Cyanna is waiting, he nods politely.

"Madamoiselle Paelisi, I presume? My name is Guillame Richemont, I'm the assigned Crown prosecutor on this case." he says. He nods to the guard, who opens the cell door, letting both Richemont and Cyanna in. The two sit down at the table in Bastianel's cell, and Bastianel sits down with them.

"So Madamoiselle Paelisi, Monsieur Dephil," Richemont says to both of them. "I believe that the case against Monsieur Dephil in the murder of Cardinal Duras is a strong one, at least when one considers the forensic evidence. You should be aware that there is significant political pressure for the death penalty in this case. I'm offering Monsieur Dephil the chance to save His Majesty the cost of a trial, in exchange for which courtesy I offer a fairly generous sentence of no more than 20 years, and as little as 10 with good behaviour."

"And of course, Madamoiselle Paelisi, if there is anything else you'd like to discuss other than Monsieur Dephil pleading guilty, I'd be pleased to discuss it. It is my understanding you'd like a meeting with Madamoiselle Genevieve Maire, the witness who provided us with cause to search her chip injector for your client's DNA? I'd be more than happy for you to come with me after this meeting is over with to meet with her." says Richemont, as he finishes unpacking his briefcase.

"Sven had a long night last night, madamoiselle. He missed the start of his watch this morning... oh wait, here he is now!" says the Varangian. Sven looks tired, but very pleased, and even more so when he sees Vorpalis.

"About time you got here, Sven." says the Varangian. "I'm off. I'll see you at the barracks tonight, eh Sven?"

"Ja, maybe." says Sven dismissively as the other Varangian goes off duty.

"So, what are you being doing here?" asks Sven with a grin. "Not that I am being complaining, no not at all."

"I need to find someone here", says Vorpalis, smiling at Sven. "Cyanna wants to give a gift to Princess Theodora, Can you tell me where I can find her?. If you help me, perhaps I will visit you in your room tonight".

Bastianel looked like someone that had just been in hell. His eyes were lost in the empty space in front of him, without even greeting Cyanna. He didn't say a word, his mind still thinking about the death of his father.

Cyanna was worried, and sad. She knew that Bastianel was now destroyed, his soul harmed beyond sanity. He wasn't the man full of happiness that she knew as a child. But first she must make him free, after that she willl have a lot of time to help him recover of all his traumas.

Cyanna says "He's not going to declare himself guilty. You know that the evidence is contaminated, and only an insane judge will accept that in a fair trial. You should think about dropping the case before it's too late and your justice system lose credibility"

Bastianel just says "Do whatever you want. I don't care, just leave me alone. When can I return to my cell?. I'm not in a good mood right now"

"Had you tortured him like you did with the inmigration officer?", asks Cyanna, enraged.

Inspector Vern realises that Bastianel is out of the confessional and knocks on the door to Darquis' side.

"Inquisitor! Your pentitent has left the confessional, so what are you still doing in there?" he says impatiently. "I'd like to speak to you in my office at your earliest possible convenience. It's up on level 4, it'll be the only one with the lights on."

Vern glances at his watch and growls.

"My convenience? You do your station credit. Very well." Simon gets out. He had quickly hidden the notes he had taken. I think that I have been barking up the wrong tree...

"I need to find someone here", says Vorpalis, smiling at Sven. "Cyanna wants to give a gift to Princess Theodora, Can you tell me where I can find her?. If you help me, perhaps I will visit you in your room tonight".

"I can't be leaving my post when I am getting here so late already, but I can be giving you directions." Sven says, hopelessly. "I believe that Princess Theodora is being in Princess Anna's chambers with her sisters. I am hearing she is helping her sister pick a wedding dress."

Sven proceeds to give detailed directions.

"By the way, I am never catching your name?" ventures Sven with a grin.

"No, sorry darling, but this relationship works only without names, and keeping it secret", says Vorpalis smiling to Sven. "Thanks for the directions, I will meet you here once I finish with my job". She leaves, following Sven indications. Once she reaches the door of the Princess Anna's room, she approaches the guards on duty. "Good Afternoon, distinguished Varangians, I'm looking for Princess Theodora, Could I talk to her?"

Bastianel looked like someone that had just been in hell. His eyes were lost in the empty space in front of him, without even greeting Cyanna. He didn't say a word, his mind still thinking about the death of his father.

Cyanna was worried, and sad. She knew that Bastianel was now destroyed, his soul harmed beyond sanity. He wasn't the man full of happiness that she knew as a child. But first she must make him free, after that she willl have a lot of time to help him recover of all his traumas.

Cyanna says "He's not going to declare himself guilty. You know that the evidence is contaminated, and only an insane judge will accept that in a fair trial. You should think about dropping the case before it's too late and your justice system lose credibility"

Bastianel just says "Do whatever you want. I don't care, just leave me alone. When can I return to my cell?. I'm not in a good mood right now"

"Had you tortured him like you did with the inmigration officer?", asks Cyanna, enraged.

OOC: We're in Bastianel's cell, I'll just assume Bastianel is too out of it to notice.

IC:
"Madamoiselle your accusation is patently absurd!" says Richemont, genuinely insulted. "The police do not use torture! They are not like those Cultural Development thu...."

Richemont holds his tongue.

"Erm... you have no evidence that Madamoiselle Maire was tortured, counsellor." he says. He doesn't deny that the torture took place, he just puts up a token protest.

"I assure you Madamoiselle that at this time I have no reason to believe that the evidence in this case is tainted." Richemont says, stretching the truth a little. "I am personally looking into every single piece of evidence to check for the slightest suggestion of contamination. My investigation so far has not come across any contaminated evidence."

Although he had good reason to be suspicious, Guillame Richemont couldn't prove that any of the evidence was contaminated. He was still waiting for hard proof to confirm or disprove his suspicions.

"In any case, your client is clearly not in a mood to talk, so Madamoiselle, I suggest we proceed to this meeting you wanted to arrange with Madamoiselle Maire, unless you wanted to give her a bit more time to rec... a bit more time to prepare, some notice." Richemont says, his French accent growing stronger near the end of his sentence in an attempt to disguise the slip-up. He rubs his left eye and takes a big sip of coffee.

"No, sorry darling, but this relationship works only without names, and keeping it secret", says Vorpalis smiling to Sven. "Thanks for the directions, I will meet you here once I finish with my job". She leaves, following Sven indications. Once she reaches the door of the Princess Anna's room, she approaches the guards on duty. "Good Afternoon, distinguished Varangians, I'm looking for Princess Theodora, Could I talk to her?"

The Varangians nod, and knock on the door. Giggling can be heard within.

"Enter!" says Anna's voice. The Varangians open the door, letting Vorpalis in.

Anna is wearing a white silk and lace wedding dress, which she is modelling for her sisters, Theodora and Zoë. Zoë is sitting on a couch laughing at something which somebody presumably said. Theodora is kneeling on the ground next to Anna, adjusting Anna's train a little, with an amused look on her face.

"It's simply too long, Anna!" Theodora tells her sister, referring to the train.

"Some of us look distinguished in long trains, Dorie." says Anna in a faux-condescending tone. The three girls start laughing again.

"Pardon us, Madam." says Anna, looking up at Vorpalis. "How may we help you? If you're looking for wedding dresses, we've plenty of them!"

Theodora and Zoë chuckle at the offer.

Cyanna was looking at Bastianel with a sad expression, then she turns to Richemont again "Maybe you're right, but don't make assumptions. You don't know what I know or what proofs I have, prosecutor. And your own tongue usually betrays you, Monsieur. Of course that your indiscretion is not a proof, but it leads me to think that my assumptions were right. I know that Mademoiselle Marie was tortured, and I also know that she's recovering from her injuries right now, so don't try to put her some make-up when I meet her", her tone was neutral, trying to hide the threat that her words were meaning.

"About Bastianel, I don't firmly believe that he suffered physical torture, but obviously his mental state is far from healthy. I will assume that it's just the consequence of the death of his father. When can I meet Mademoiselle Marie?"

"Madamoiselle Maire is in protective custody at my office, in case your client has any agents in Pantocratoria who may seek her death." Richemont says. "Listen, I will speak plainly of what happened to Genevieve Maire, since it is plain that my tongue has betrayed me, symptomatic no doubt of the 45 minutes of sleep with which God deemed fit to bless me last night. Genevieve Maire was brought in for questioning by the Ministry for Cultural Development. The Ministry for Cultural Development's powers had been expanded and expanded under the previous government when Princess Irene was its minister, and... I shan't talk politics. The long and the short of it is that the Ministry for Cultural Development is allowed to employ interrogation tactics which are forbidden to the Ministry of Public Safety, the police, and the Crown Prosecutor. Genevieve Maire was brutally mistreated by those thugs, but as a matter of Pantocratorian law, her statement is no less admissable as a result of it. It is a perculiarity of the law symptomatic of the Ministry of Cultural Development's broad powers."

Richemont gathers his papers back into his briefcase and stands.

"Madamoiselle, I've a car waiting for me outside. Let us return together to the Office of the Crown Prosecutor, my building, in which Genevieve Maire has been housed in protective custody." he concludes. He turns to Bastianel. "Monsieur, my condolences on the passing of your father. If, when you are emotionally prepared for such an event, you would like to meet with me again, in the presence of Madamoiselle Paelisi of course, I would gladly meet with you."

He turns to Cyanna again.

"Shall we go, Madamoiselle?"

Vorpalis was staring at Anna, thousands of thoughts in her mind So this is the fabled Anna, I wonder if she knows that she's a legend in Aelosia, and that many teen girls wants to be in her place. Even I, a ruthless and cold hearted secret agent, was moved with that song. Maybe it was Bastianel's magic with words, but I was expecting something more astonishing. She's pretty, but nothing too impressive.

Then she says, in the sweet and pompous tone of a minstrel, "I'm pleased to see all the fabled beauty of Pantocratoria gathered in the same room. I need to talk you, Princess Theodora, and give you a present from Madame Paelisi of the Aelosian embassy. Can we speak in a place more...private?" she bows like a skilled courtier, her forehead almost reaching her knees.

Bastianel just nods, his gaze still fixed in the ceiling of his cell.

Cyanna stands and kisses Bastianel's forehead. "I will come back, I promise, you can trust me". Then she turns to Richemont "We don't have any agents involved in this case, and in the hypotethical case that we had, Bastianel hadn't anything to do with them. And if we wanted Genevieve Marie dead, she would be resting in her grave by now. I'm happy that she's now under protective custody and free of those despicable beings that dared to torture an unarmed and innocent woman. I hope they find the right punishment for their crimes, and you should bring them to justice. Shall we go now?"

The girls blush at Vorpalis' comment, but Theodora looks a little confused when she asks to speak to her in private.

"Are you sure, madam, that it is me you want?" she asks. When Vorpalis nods, she stands and leads Vorpalis into Anna's drawing room.

"This room is private enough." says Theodora. "Now, madam, how may I be of assistance? Umm.... did you say you had something for me?"

Cyanna stands and kisses Bastianel's forehead. "I will come back, I promise, you can trust me". Then she turns to Richemont "We don't have any agents involved in this case, and in the hypotethical case that we had, Bastianel hadn't anything to do with them. And if we wanted Genevieve Marie dead, she would be resting in her grave by now. I'm happy that she's now under protective custody and free of those despicable beings that dared to torture an unarmed and innocent woman. I hope they find the right punishment for their crimes, and you should bring them to justice. Shall we go now?"

"Most certainly." says Richemont.

The two lawyers leave the stationhouse and are transported by car to the Office of the Crown Prosecutor.

"It is funny that you mentioned bringing these gentlemen to justice, madamoiselle... we've no idea why, but their car crashed into a wall and was incinerated yesterday afternoon as they were leaving my office. If we didn't remove Genevieve Maire, she likely would've perished with them. So it would seem that God has found punishment for them." Richemont concludes. "Tell me though, madamoiselle, I was under the impression that Aelosia allows the use of torture by its law enforcement... why then all this indignation about Genevieve Maire? It is a terrible thing, yes, but.."

The car comes to a stop. Richemont gets out, rushes around the car and opens Cyanna's door for her.

"Please, madamoiselle, right this way." he says, leading her into the building, through the security, and down into the holding cells and protective custody apartments.

He stops in front of a door. He knocks softly on it.

"Genevieve?" he says softly. "It is Guillame Richemont here with Cyanna Paelisi, Bastianel Dephil's legal representative. We'd like to speak to you, if you're willing to see us."

After a few seconds, the door opens. Genevieve has had a good night's sleep, a warm bath, a good meal, and so on. She looks a lot more comfortable and a lot less distressed than when Richemont last saw her, and wears a soft dressing gown rather than the harsh prison uniform. But the bruises and other marks are still very obvious on the exposed parts of her body.

"Come in." she says softly. She sits down in one of the plain chairs in the apartment.

"Ok, kid, we're going to cut the crap right now", says Vorpalis in her more usual tone of voice, a voice made of cold steel "Somebody give me this envelope, and you could be in deep troubles if someone else find this stuff and sell it to the newspapers. As a matter of fact, I don't care if your reputation shrinks to the ocean, but my boss do. So, I just came here to warn you, and to give you this so you could destroy it. This is your gift, because for some reason that escapes my good judgement, my goverment wants to protect you", she throws the envelope to the little girl, "open it, will you?".

Theodora looks taken aback, genuinely shocked by the sudden change in demeanour. Timidly, she opens the envelope and reaches inside.

"What is thiAAAAAAAAAH!" she starts speaking, but as her eyes fall across the first photo she screams. She drops the envelope and holds both hands to her mouth to stop the noise. The photographs of her and the army officer fall out all over the floor.

Theodora stumbles backwards, and falls to the ground as she backs right into a chair. Trembling, when she has calmed herself she removes her hands from her mouth.

"Where.... where did you get these?" she whispers.

"If torture is used in Aelosia, at least is not my knowledge. Torturers are despicable beings in Pantocratoria, in Aelosia and in any place of the universe, that's my personal point of view", she answers to the prosecutor.

When they enter the apartment, she was moved when she saw the markings in Genevieve's skin. Grow men abusing a woman?, I just hope that the prosecutor is wrong and no elf indulges in such practice. She remembered a case twenty years ago, the case about an elven maiden raped by a group of drunken teenagers. The girl was very fragile then, and maybe Genevieve was in the same state of mind, better be soft and gentle with her, she had suffered enough.

She offers her hand to Genevieve, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Madamoiselle Genevieve, my name is Cyanna Paelisi, representative of the Aelosian embassy and the counsellor of Bastianel Dephil".

Genevieve tentatively reaches out her hand, but nervously withdraws it before touching Cyanna.

"Pleased to meet you..." she says, looking away from Cyanna's eyes.

"Genevieve, I know you can't possibly feel like trusting anybody right now, and that's alright. But I promise you, we're not here to hurt you. Madamoiselle Pael... Cyanna here would just like to ask you a few questions, and we can stop at anytime you wish." says Richemont as reassuringly as he can.

Genevieve nods a little. Richemont looks over at the little kitchen in the apartment.

"Would you like some coffee or tea or anything else to drink, Genevieve?" he asks.

"Coffee." she says, still not looking at Richemont. Richemont goes to the kitchen and fills the kettle. He examines the jar of instant coffee on the bench.

"Madamoiselle Paelisi, would you like a coffee?" he asks from the kitchen.

Vorpalis moved quickly, picking up the photographs and throwing them to the fireplace. "Shut up!, or you're going to call all the palace guards to watch you!", says the elf to the Princess. "I found them in a very strange place, in possesion of the wrong person, so my boss commanded me to bring them to you. We want to be your friend, and to help you in this matter. Inside the envelope is a note written by my boss, explaining everything, and a tape containing important data. I will leave now, just check it out will you?"

Theodora nods obediently. She pulls out the letter as soon as Vorpalis leaves the room, and reads it quickly.

OOC: what type of tape is it, audio, or video? And what would Theodora see/hear when she played it?

"I prefer tea", says Cyanna. Then she turns to Genevieve and says in a very low voice, almost a whisper "Can we talk now?, as women, or as friends. I know that we're not friends, but we can help each other, and that's a good beginning. I'm not here to harass you, or to make you uncomfortable, but the life of my beloved is in danger, and I promised to help him. And for that I need your help, Genevieve,all I need is that you tell me the truth about what happened that day in the airport when Bastianel arrived".

Genevieve chokes up and almost sobs, but restrains herself.

"Tea it is, although I'm afraid there's a rather poor selection here... Irish Breakfast is about all we've got..." mumbles Richemont in the kitchen as the water boils.

"Please... I already told... I already told the Cultural Development officers..." she says, unable to look at Cyanna. "I already told them everything, please don't bring this up again... please..."

"Do you take milk, mesdamoiselles?" asks Richemont from the kitchen as he pours water into the mugs. "There's no sugar I'm afraid..."

Genevieve doesn't give a response. Richemont brings in her coffee, without milk, and hands it to her.

"Would you like milk?" he asks softly.

"No, black's fine." she replies.

"What about you, Madamoiselle Paelisi?" asks Richemont as he returns to the kitchen.

The letter reads:

Dear Princess Theodora:

If you're reading this letter is because you received the documents that I sent to you. I found those documents in the wrong hands, so I thought that the right thing to do was sent them to you. Those photos are the only copies that I had, and my advise is that you destroy the photos as soon as possible. My only intentions are to protect you and help you in this issue, so I will remain silent about this matter, maybe I could meet with you in some private place and talk about this?. If you're interested, please send me a message to the Aelosian Embassy.

Cyanna Paelisi.

OOC: The tape (well, a CD, anyway) is just a copy of Anna Celeblöme Aglarglîn, in french and elvish. Cyanna sent it because she thought that the princesses never heard the song, thanks to Irene's censorship.

"No milk, no sugar, please". She turns to Genevieve and says, with a very sad and desperate expression on his face "I understand you, they pushed you too far, I didn't wanted to disturb you. I'm very sorry". A lonely tear appears in her left eyes, but she wash it out with the back of her hand (of course ruining her makeup). "I will try to solve this without your help, anyway, nothing that it's happening is your fault". She raises and start to look throught the window, as in deep thoughts I can't harm her, or push her, she didn't deserves that. All she wants is to rest. So be it".

Richemont returns with a mug of coffee for him, and hands a cup of tea to Cyanna. He notices her smudged make-up.

"Are you quite alright, Madamoiselle Paelisi?" he asks.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you... but I can't... please, you can't ask me to..." says Genevieve.

"Perhaps we should go, Genevieve?" ventures Richemont.

Genevieve nods slowly. Richemont quickly drinks his mug of coffee, and takes it back into the kitchen.

"If you'd like to talk to us, or to anybody else, just tell the guards, alright?" Richemont says to Genevieve, who nods again. "Have you seen a doctor yet?"

"No..." Genevieve says softly.

"Well, I'll send one. You'll need to see one..." Richemont says. "Aurevoir, Genevieve. Madamoiselle Paelisi, would you like to join me in my office?"

Theodora emerges from Anna's drawing room looking like a ghost. She held the letter Vorpalis had given her folded up several times in her hand, and in the other hand, she held a CD.

"Dorie, what's ever wrong?" asks Anna. Theodora walks in silence to the door.

"Theodora?" asks Zoë.

"What did that elf-woman give you? I heard you scream!" Anna asks, concerned.

Theodora stops and turns around. She looks at the CD in her hand.

"Oh.... just a CD... with elven music on it... I think it is one of those banned songs... I don't know." Theodora mumbles.

"You screamed about a CD?" asks Anna, unconvinced.

"Oh, I tripped over one of your chairs. You know how clumsy I am." Theodora says.

"You're not clumsy!" protests Zoë.

"I might have damaged the chair, I'm sorry Anna. If you'd like to listen to the CD," she says, handing the CD to her elder sister. "you can. I'm going to go do my homework."

Anna takes the CD, looking concerned.

"Are you alright, Theodora?" she asks.

Theodora nods quickly, and leaves Anna's chambers. Anna furrows her brow in concern, and walks over to the door to her drawing room, peering in to see if there is any obvious damage to the chair.

"So, do you want to listen to the CD?" asks Zoë as she takes it over to a stereo in an ivory case, which sits in the corner of the first room.

"No, Zoë, not now. I'm going to go change into something sensible and then go down to the hall." says Anna, leaving the room for her dressing room.

Zoë shrugs, puts the CD in the stereo, and hits play.

Inspector Vern realises that Bastianel is out of the confessional and knocks on the door to Darquis' side.

"Inquisitor! Your pentitent has left the confessional, so what are you still doing in there?" he says impatiently. "I'd like to speak to you in my office at your earliest possible convenience. It's up on level 4, it'll be the only one with the lights on."

Vern glances at his watch and growls.

"My convenience? You do your station credit. Very well." Simon gets out. He had quickly hidden the notes he had taken. I think that I have been barking up the wrong tree...

Simon has second thoughts. "Actually, I think not. You will tell me what I want to know, now." He rips off his business suit, revealing his Inquisitorial robes. "And I want one of your officers seconded to me. Any questions? The man I am trying to help doesn't recognise friendship when he sees it."

Simon has second thoughts. "Actually, I think not. You will tell me what I want to know, now." He rips off his business suit, revealing his Inquisitorial robes. "And I want one of your officers seconded to me. Any questions? The man I am trying to help doesn't recognise friendship when he sees it."

"Sir, you don't make demands of me in this station." says Inspector Vern, curtly. "Ask your questions, then get the hell out, and keep your meddling nose out of my investigation."

"I'm all right, don't worry", says Cyanna, "Can we go now, please?".

She approaches Genevieve and says to her "I will leave the phone number of the embassy here, and here's my card. If you suddenly wants to talk, about what happened that day, or about anything, I will be ready for listening it. If you need something from us, call too. In case that you need help or advise or anything, or just call with another friendly woman, call me to my cellphone. I will try to help you in any way I can". She waves her hand in a manner of good bye, knowing that the last thing that Genevieve wants is physical contact with other persons "namárië, Genevieve", she says, raising her left hand.

Simon has second thoughts. "Actually, I think not. You will tell me what I want to know, now." He rips off his business suit, revealing his Inquisitorial robes. "And I want one of your officers seconded to me. Any questions? The man I am trying to help doesn't recognise friendship when he sees it."

"Sir, you don't make demands of me in this station." says Inspector Vern, curtly. "Ask your questions, then get the hell out, and keep your meddling nose out of my investigation."

"I?" Simon asks calmly, and rationally. "I am not making demands. I am conducting my own investigation into this matter. The Cardinal ordered me to find out what happened. I have heard your side, or should I say Irene's side, of the story. I want to know the truth." He beckons with his hand. "Please, my son. I only wish to help. And imagine the glory for the officer concerned, working for the Inquisition." Simon purses his lips. "I would hate to have to inform the Holy Father that the police are interfering in what is essentially a matter for the church." Not exactly lying, am I. I *would* hate to inform the Holy Father of that. Of course, this isn't exactly under my purview...

Simon smiles. "Only the guilty need to fear the Inquisition, Officer... and I can sense fear in you." He draws his cowl up, hiding his eyes. He turns to go, his cape spinning out behind him. "Should you wish to be more agreeable... my door is always open."

OOC: If this isn't right, I'll change it. And unless Vern is really blockheaded, or uberconfident, that last paragraph would be like an open threat.

Of course, Simon can't be charged for it... did Bastaniel renounce his conversion?

"I?" Simon asks calmly, and rationally. "I am not making demands. I am conducting my own investigation into this matter. The Cardinal ordered me to find out what happened. I have heard your side, or should I say Irene's side, of the story. I want to know the truth." He beckons with his hand. "Please, my son. I only wish to help. And imagine the glory for the officer concerned, working for the Inquisition." Simon purses his lips. "I would hate to have to inform the Holy Father that the police are interfering in what is essentially a matter for the church." Not exactly lying, am I. I *would* hate to inform the Holy Father of that. Of course, this isn't exactly under my purview...

Simon smiles. "Only the guilty need to fear the Inquisition, Officer... and I can sense fear in you." He draws his cowl up, hiding his eyes. He turns to go, his cape spinning out behind him. "Should you wish to be more agreeable... my door is always open."

OOC: If this isn't right, I'll change it. And unless Vern is really blockheaded, or uberconfident, that last paragraph would be like an open threat.

Of course, Simon can't be charged for it... did Bastaniel renounce his conversion?

Vern rolls his eyes and mutters something about "bloody meddling priests" under his breath, before returning to his office.

OOC: The last paragraph was Vern's way of telling him that this investigation is the job of the Pantocratorian police, and telling Simon to get lost. The job of the Inquisition is to investigate matters of the doctrine of the faith, not murders, and his patience with humouring the Inquisitor had worn out after waiting outside the confessional for him to come out for so long. Plus Vern is blockheaded, and over confident. He's a cop! 8)

OOC: If Simon had overheard Vern, your officer would find out what 'doctrinal matters' includes...

Richemont leads Cyanna to his office for a meeting just between the two of them. He sits down behind his desk and beckons for Cyanna to take a seat.

"I had thought, madamoiselle, that we'd handle arraignment this afternoon. The arraignment will be taking place at His Imperial Majesty's Courts of Justice, just across the street from here. The police will bring your client to meet you at the courthouse. He will have a chance to enter a plea at the arraignment." says Richemont. "I don't know how much you know of Pantocratorian law, madamoiselle, but that means if you intend to use an insanity defence or any other affirmitive defence, you will have to enter your client's plea as Not Guilty by reason of that defence."

"So, is there anything else you'd like to discuss before arraignment?" says Richemont, feeling the exhaustion setting in once again.

OOC: Okay, what do I do then? I don't like the idea of Simon just putting up with that... besides, the more you have your characters stonewall, the more I think that Irene really did kill Duras.

OOC: Okay, what do I do then? I don't like the idea of Simon just putting up with that... besides, the more you have your characters stonewall, the more I think that Irene really did kill Duras.

OOC: It is in the nature of the cops to stonewall, and as far as they're concerned, they've found everything they need and the case is now out of their hands - closed in all but name. You might want to try a different route to the truth.

OOC: Okay, what do I do then? I don't like the idea of Simon just putting up with that... besides, the more you have your characters stonewall, the more I think that Irene really did kill Duras.

OOC: It is in the nature of the cops to stonewall, and as far as they're concerned, they've found everything they need and the case is now out of their hands - closed in all but name. You might want to try a different route to the truth.

OOC: That was a mistake...

IC: Simon swore and slammed his fist into the wall. "No more Mr. Nice Guy."

He snapped his fingers and an aide ran out. "Lord Darquis?"

"Inform Irene that as a loyal Daughter of the church, I want to meet both her and her... priest." Simon turned. His eyes weren't visible beneath his cowl. "As soon as possible..." He said, voice low with menace.

To: The Roanian Embassy

Inquisitor Darquis' request for an audience with HIH the Chancellor the Princess Irene has been granted.

The Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator

A black car drove along the roads to the Palace. Unlike the typical limousines, this was an HRI Requisitioned Gunjeep. It oozed barely contained power and anger. Inside, a cloaked figure sat pondering a selection of weaponary rings. "Poison, dart..."

It arrived. Simon got out. His cape flew behind him in the breeze. Any observers would have been incredibly worried and found somewhere else to be. Simon chuckled humorlessly. Truth will out. I am a servant of the Lord. Whatever I do in his service is permissable.

OOC: Princess Irene doesn't have a private residence. She resides her own set of chambers in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator.

OOC: Princess Irene doesn't have a private residence. She resides her own set of chambers in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator.

OOC: I'll edit...

OOC: Princess Irene doesn't have a private residence. She resides her own set of chambers in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator.

OOC: I'll edit...

OOC: Thanks, I wouldn't want to change around the circumstances of Simon's arrival for you, that's all.

A black car drove along the roads to the Palace. Unlike the typical limousines, this was an HRI Requisitioned Gunjeep. It oozed barely contained power and anger. Inside, a cloaked figure sat pondering a selection of weaponary rings. "Poison, dart..."

It arrived. Simon got out. His cape flew behind him in the breeze. Any observers would have been incredibly worried and found somewhere else to be. Simon chuckled humorlessly. Truth will out. I am a servant of the Lord. Whatever I do in his service is permissable.

Two Varangians step forward warily, their M-16s ready.

"Please state your name and business in the palace for a security check." says the first one in a Scandinavian accent. The second one pulls a metal detector wand out of his belt, ready to check the figure for weapons.

"The only arrangement that I'm going to sign is the one saying Not Guilty in the front page", says Cyanna, "I don't think you have a firm case, Monsieur Richemont, we will fight in court then. However, I don't think that I'm going to be the lawyer of Bastianel, looks like a Menelmacari lawyer is on his way".

"I don't understand, madamoiselle, you're Monsieur Dephil's representative at this point in time, why wouldn't you also represent him at trial?" asks Richemont. "Who is this Menelmacari lawyer?"

Dressed incognito, Princess Theodora approaches the Aelosian embassy. Before she enters, she unfolds the letter Vorpalis handed her, and reads over it again, before folding it back into a small handbag.

She approaches the embassy receptionist.

"Hello, I'd like to meet with Cyanna Paelisi, please." she says to the receptionist quietly.

"I don't know", says Cyanna,"the news have just arrived. They will replace me because I wasn't capable of reaching a solution so far. That's why I'm not going to sign anything", then she whispers "I can't save Bastianel, and he even don't want to be saved. I have no reason to keep fighting".

"She's in a meeting with...Rikemont, Sir Rikemont, of the Pantocratorian department of justice. But you can wait for her if you want to... Can I offer something else to you?", says the receptionist.

Two Varangians step forward warily, their M-16s ready.

"Please state your name and business in the palace for a security check." says the first one in a Scandinavian accent. The second one pulls a metal detector wand out of his belt, ready to check the figure for weapons.

OOC: Unless that's a really, really powerful metal detector it won't detect anything odd with the rings.

IC: Simon looked up. His eyes couldn't be seen, but he was obviously an Inquisitor. "I am Simon Darquis. Inquisitor of the Church. Have things changed so much here that a man of God can no longer keep appointments?" The Teutonic accent was also obvious, as if he was deliberately exaggerating it. "I assure you, the innocent have nothing to fear from the Inquisition." Simon leaned forward. "I do hope that you two are innocent. I sense fear in you."

Simon spread his cape wide. He carried no weapons, and his tunic had the Cross of the Inquisition woven into it.

OOC: Unless that's a really, really powerful metal detector it won't detect anything odd with the rings.

IC: Simon looked up. His eyes couldn't be seen, but he was obviously an Inquisitor. "I am Simon Darquis. Inquisitor of the Church. Have things changed so much here that a man of God can no longer keep appointments?" The Teutonic accent was also obvious, as if he was deliberately exaggerating it. "I assure you, the innocent have nothing to fear from the Inquisition." Simon leaned forward. "I do hope that you two are innocent. I sense fear in you."

Simon spread his cape wide. He carried no weapons, and his tunic had the Cross of the Inquisition woven into it.

OOC: All a metal detector would detect was that the rings were made of metal anyway. They'd have no reason to be suspicious of them.

IC:

"Procedure, Inquisitor." says the first Varangian non-chalantly. He rolls his eyes at his companion, who gives Simon a quick run over with his wand. He turns and nods back to the first Varangian.

"I've a gentleman here to see the Chancellor... Darquis, Simon.... roger." he says, having a conversation into his radio. He then turns to the Inquisitor. "Everything seems to be in order, sir. Have a pleasant visit. A page will show you to the Chancellor's office."

The Varangians stand aside and usher the Inquisitor into the palace proper, where a pageboy guides him to Princess Irene's chambers, and to a huge door with more Varangians standing like statues in front of it. Their heels click to attention, and they open the doors for the Inquisitor.

Inside the large chamber beyond sits Princess Irene behind an old fashioned desk, putting some official documents into a drawyer. In each corner stands a statuesque Varangian. Behind Irene's desk is a large window overlooking some of the Imperial Court's formal gardens, to the left of centre. A small door is visible one of the two back corners, despite the fact that it is decorated in the same fashion as the office's baroque walls. The door presumably leads to other parts of Irene's chambers.

"Inquisitor, it is indeed an honour. How may I help you?" she asks, looking at him across the cavernous chamber, after closing the drawyer.

"She's in a meeting with...Rikemont, Sir Rikemont, of the Pantocratorian department of justice. But you can wait for her if you want to... Can I offer something else to you?", says the receptionist.

The girl swallows hard.

"Do you have a lady on staff with a scar across her face?" she asks, disguising her fear fairly well. "I've spoken to her before, but I can't remember her name, I'm afraid."

OOC: Guillame Richemont isn't a knight, you're thinking of his boss Sir Matthieu. Richemont is the senior prosecutor in New Rome's Office of the Crown Prosecutor.

"I don't know", says Cyanna,"the news have just arrived. They will replace me because I wasn't capable of reaching a solution so far. That's why I'm not going to sign anything", then she whispers "I can't save Bastianel, and he even don't want to be saved. I have no reason to keep fighting".

"Well..." says Richemont, looking genuinely surprised. "then I suppose I'd better not discuss the case with you any longer, Madamoiselle Paelisi."

He stands.

"It has been a pleasure meeting you, thankyou for coming." he says politely.

The Inquisitor sat and locked eyes. "Yes. I have a few questions you might be able to answer, your highness." Simon looked around beneath his cowl. "Questions which you will answer... now, about your priestly friend. Was he with Duras? I remember seeing him in the Vortex Corporation. Was that someone else?"

Simon leaned forward. "Call that priest in here. What I have to say I have to say to both of you." His voice held low menace, undetectable but there. "As a daughter of the church, I expect you to listen, and listen well. I am Inquisitor. It is my duty to find the truth... and I believe you are hiding something."

"My priestly friend?" asks Irene. "I take it you mean my confessor, Father Guillot? You must have him mistaken, Father Guillot never accompanied the late Cardinal Duras anywhere - he says Mass every morning in the Chapel of St Constantine the Great here in the Imperial Court. Although it warms my heart to see such a vigilant investigator as yourself take an interest in the case of Cardinal Duras' murder, Inquisitor, I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree. Cardinal Duras had two priests from his archdiocese who would follow him around whenever he would leave the Empire, they're usually at the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator. What were their names again.... ah yes, Father Louis Antoniou and.... hmmm I'm not sure about the other one... Father Tzimcite or something? Anyway, they're both at the Cathedral, so if you'd like to talk to possible witnesses, I suppose that'd be a good starting place."

"And Inquisitor, if you do find evidence that we've the wrong man behind bars, I'd dearly like to know, and I'm sure the Crown Prosecutor would too." says Irene, leaning forward, as if thankful that Simon Darquis seems to be interested in the case. "But I must say, Inquisitor, I find your tone somewhat unpleasant. I am an Imperial Princess, the Chancellor of all Pantocratoria, and you will address me with respect."

"She's in a meeting with...Rikemont, Sir Rikemont, of the Pantocratorian department of justice. But you can wait for her if you want to... Can I offer something else to you?", says the receptionist.

The girl swallows hard.

"Do you have a lady on staff with a scar across her face?" she asks, disguising her fear fairly well. "I've spoken to her before, but I can't remember her name, I'm afraid."

OOC: Guillame Richemont isn't a knight, you're thinking of his boss Sir Matthieu. Richemont is the senior prosecutor in New Rome's Office of the Crown Prosecutor.

OOC: Anyway, the address term of the Aelosian is Sir to male subjects, to the male nobles the address is Sire.

"A scarred lady?...not that I remember. Noone like that works here, and only one lady arrived in the last month, but I don't know her", says the receptionist, confused. Then she says "follow me please, I will take you to the guest room, Lady Paelisi will be here in a while, I will call her, What's your name again?".

"That's all I suppose, I would say that it was a pleasure to meet you, but my real feelings are that I would be happier if I had never come to Pantocratoria and see the things that I have seen. I hope that my sucessor can do my job better", says Cyanna with a sad tone of voice, starting to leave.

OOC: Anyway, the address term of the Aelosian is Sir to male subjects, to the male nobles the address is Sire.

"A scarred lady?...not that I remember. Noone like that works here, and only one lady arrived in the last month, but I don't know her", says the receptionist, confused. Then she says "follow me please, I will take you to the guest room, Lady Paelisi will be here in a while, I will call her, What's your name again?".

"That's all I suppose, I would say that it was a pleasure to meet you, but my real feelings are that I would be happier if I had never come to Pantocratoria and see the things that I have seen. I hope that my sucessor can do my job better", says Cyanna with a sad tone of voice, starting to leave.

OOC: :oops: Thanks for pointing that out!

IC:

"My name is... Theodora." she says, inwardly cursing herself for being unable to remember the fake name she had decided on, but reasoning that Theodora was a relatively common name anyway. Kinda.

She follows the receptionist to the waiting area.

"Thank you for your help." she says, and sits down.

The Cyanna's phone rings with a soft melody as she's walking out, looking for a cab. "Yes?", she says on the phone. "Lady Paelisi?, this is the embassy, here's someone looking for you, a young girl, Deodora, Theodora, or something like that. She's waiting for you", says the receptionist from the other side of the phone line.

"I'm on my way, tell her to wait for me", answer Cyanna Princess Theodora?, maybe she decided to help me after all, but maybe it's too late for that.

Soon the cab arrives to the embassy. Cyanna heads for the lobby, looking at Theodora "Yes?, you asked for me, don't you?", says the lady to the little girl.

OOC: I am presuming the two are alone.

IC: Theodora looks up at Cyanna, her usually playful eyes a mix of anger, fear, confusion and desperation.

"Where did you get those photos?" she asks. "Why show them to me? What do you want from me?"

She bites on her lower-lip nervously as she awaits Cyanna's reply.

"An Aelosian secret agent found them, further information about it it's classified. I sent them to you because I thought that maybe you needed to know about that, or maybe you wanted to destroy them. I wanted your help with the case of Bastianel, I wanted that you spoke with your father in his behalf, but now that's futile, I don't need your help anymore, just let me say that I sent the photos to you as a favor", says Cyanna in sad tone of voice.

"As a... a favour?" she almost shouts. "You had spies take photographs of me..."

Theodora looks away and then continues.

"Of me being intimate..... to help you win a court case? What can I do to help you win a court case?" she goes on, nearly shouting, starting to cry in indignation. "You think that just because those photos were destroyed, that it ends there? You think that your spy or whoever you got these from hasn't kept the negatives or another copy or..."

Theodora almost hyperventilates at the thought. She calms herself down again.

"I knew this would never just pass..." she mutters to herself, wiping her eyes with a hankerchief. "I knew it wouldn't stop with that humiliating penance... oh God!"

"Not me, not any of my men or underlings took those photos, we bought them from a guard of your castle!. You should be grateful that those photos fell into our hands and not in the hands of some merchant who would sell them to the best bidder", says Cyanna, with a soft voice, "I have no interest in your business. If you want the negatives, I will do my best to find them. However, I said that you have nothing to fear about me, Just the secret agent and me know about those photos, and I give you my word, we will keep the secret. As a matter of fact, I sent those photos to you as a token of friendship. I'm not a ruthless and cruel woman, my intentions were good, I didn't want to use that as blackmail or something like that".

She tries to stare at Theodora's eyes, so she can read her eyes "You can trust me, if you need any help, only asks for it. I'm leaving this country soon".

"My priestly friend?" asks Irene. "I take it you mean my confessor, Father Guillot? You must have him mistaken, Father Guillot never accompanied the late Cardinal Duras anywhere - he says Mass every morning in the Chapel of St Constantine the Great here in the Imperial Court. Although it warms my heart to see such a vigilant investigator as yourself take an interest in the case of Cardinal Duras' murder, Inquisitor, I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree. Cardinal Duras had two priests from his archdiocese who would follow him around whenever he would leave the Empire, they're usually at the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator. What were their names again.... ah yes, Father Louis Antoniou and.... hmmm I'm not sure about the other one... Father Tzimcite or something? Anyway, they're both at the Cathedral, so if you'd like to talk to possible witnesses, I suppose that'd be a good starting place."

"And Inquisitor, if you do find evidence that we've the wrong man behind bars, I'd dearly like to know, and I'm sure the Crown Prosecutor would too." says Irene, leaning forward, as if thankful that Simon Darquis seems to be interested in the case. "But I must say, Inquisitor, I find your tone somewhat unpleasant. I am an Imperial Princess, the Chancellor of all Pantocratoria, and you will address me with respect."


Simon smiled. "My apologies, princess. I had to talk to my father earlier today. That always puts me in a bad mood." He drew back his cowl, revealing his face. "I do, however, want to speak to your 'confessor'. M'lady, we both know that Bastaniel isn't responsible for this crime. If I had to say someone was, I would say Count Kryosal, or one of the bishops." Or you. "Bastaniel, as I'm sure we've noticed, isn't smart enough to plan this out. So, if he was responsible, there are people behind him."

"Imagine the political coup it would be if we found the man or men truly responsible for this. It would be in your name, of course, Chancellor." Simon said. "However, we have to trust eachother. So, I suggest we both swear in oath." Simon clutched his cross. "'In the name of the Father, in the name of the Son, and in the name of the Holy Ghost, in the eyes of all the saints, I, Simon Darquis, Inquisitor of the Roman Catholic Church, Noble of Roania, solemnly swear that I had nothing to do with the murder of Cardinal Duras."

He offered the cross to Irene. "As a good Catholic, I'm sure you will have no qualms about taking the same, or a similar, oath. It is important for us to both trust eachother."

OOC: Failure to take an oath about the matter would be a sure sign of guilt in Simon's eyes. :wink:

((Damn these forums. Curse them!))

Princess Irene takes the offered cross.

"In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, in the eyes of all the saints, I, Irene Capet, Chancellor of the Holy Empire of Pantocratoria, solemnly swear that I had nothing to do with the murder of Cardinal Duras." swears Irene, without batting an eyelid. "I still don't see the need for you to speak to Father Guillot, Inquisitor, but I'm very interested in assisting your investigation. Tell me, you think one of the bishops had something to do with this? Or perhaps Count Kyrosal?"

Irene's eyes light up like she just thought of something delightful.

"Perhaps... Count Kyrosal committed suicide because his hapless son Bastianel was taken by mistake for a crime he did not commit!" she says, suddenly thinking of it. "Perhaps he killed himself because he felt guilty about Bastianel's arrest - because he was the true murderer! He thought he was only striking Cardinal Duras, but we arrested Bastianel for Kyrosal's crime... and overcome with guilt, he killed himself. Of course! All the pieces fall into place Inquisitor!"

Irene's mouth almost turns into a self-satisfied smile.

"And would not Count Kyrosal's DNA be similar to Bastianel's? Perhaps Kyrosal's DNA is also a match for the DNA found at the scene, and our labs aren't sophisticated enough to tell the difference between a father and a son." says Irene as she rubs her hands together. "That miserable minstrel, sitting in prison for a crime his father committed... I think you're right Inquisitor! I think you may have just set an innocent man free with your powers of deduction! It is all so clear now! But Inquisitor, do you think we can prove it? With your brilliant investigative mind, surely you can think of a way to undo this injustice!"

This is perfect! Irene thinks to herself. I still get my elf assassin, and I can satisfy that blackmailing elf woman by getting her hopeless lover out of prison... it is perfect!

Theodora looks at Cyanna, aghast.

"I don't believe it!" she says, her lips trembling. "That means other people have seen them? Men in the palace guard? That they're selling them to the highest bidder!"

It can only be a matter of time before father sees them... she thinks to herself in dread.

"Please, you must tell me this guard's name... I have to... I have to get the negatives... I.... please, tell me!" she says desperately.

OOC: I need to know who really killed Duras OOCly. I was planning to say that Vorpalis killed him, but that's stupid if someone else killed Duras, I won't use that knowledge IC, but that could help me to make another plot about that Black Lotus poison and how the killer found it. However, Kyrosal is the perfect scapegoat for everybody, at least for now.

IC:

A bitter expression appears in Cyanna's face "And if I give you the name of the guard, What would you do?, Kill him?, making him dissapear?. I'm just wondering, but I don't think that you could do such things, and if you do, the consequences could be far worse than the actual situation. I offered my help and you still refuse to believe me and trust me. You humans are worthless of the minimal effort, if you want to condemn yourself, so be it. If you don't trust me, then I will give you the name of the guard tomorrow, before I left this country".

"You're a little girl, a sweet and nice one. Please rethink of your actions. The only person that could retrieve the negatives is already trying to do so. Someone that's not a little innocent girl, and it's already condemned and highly skilled in doing that kind of job. We were trying to help you, but if you don't want our help, you and all Pantocratorians can go to hell. We don't care". The face of Cyanna reddened, overcome by anger, almost shouting the last words, enunciating them very clearly.

Princess Theodora stands shocked.

"HOW WOULD I KILL ANYBODY?" she shouts, stopping her, surprised at her tone. She tries to calm herself down, although she clearly fails miserably. "Look, if my father ever sees those photos...."

Theodora stops, overcome by the enormity of what would happen if her father ever saw them.

"...he'd... he'd..." Theodora trembles as she speaks. "I'm so confused... I don't know whether to believe you or not, you say you're trying to help me but that you got the photos in the first place to blackmail my father... on the off chance that you're telling the truth... please, you can't let these photos get out! I know what I did was wrong and stupid but please, I'm doing penance, I don't deserve whatever my father would do to me... please, you don't know him, he'd.... he'd... you can't let these photos get out!"

Theodora runs crying out of the embassy, through the pristine and quiet streets of New Rome.

Vorpalis came out from inside the closet "What should we do now?, she's not having the reaction that you predicted".

Cyanna looked to her old friend, trying to regain her composture "I should know already that humans are unpredictable, specially the women. Go and bring her here again, don't let her escape, she's going to destroy herself, I can take care of her, and calm her down. And find that guard and take care of him, and you know what I mean.", the expression of Cyanna had changed, her features looking like made of cold steel.

"Is there another solution?, he amuses me, and is a fine diversion", says Vorpalis lowing her head.

"Kill him, and retrieve the negatives, I don't care how. And I thought that you were Aelosia's ruthless killer, don't let your feelings interfere in this. He's only a human, for Isha's sake!", says Cyanna with an icy glance.

"But you're trying to help that girl only because you like her, you're making decisions based on your feelings too, and she even insulted you!. I don't understand!", Vorpalis says raising her head to meet Cyanna's gaze.

"Captain Vorpalis, you have your orders, I'm in charge of your mission and of your actions. If you don't obey me, your direct superior officer, you will be charged with mutiny and treason, did I make myself clear?", says Cyanna in a totally different tone of voice.

"Damn civilians, they think that they know everything", whispers Vorpalis, then she raises her voice "I will bring back the girl, and the negatives. I thought that you'd changed in all these years, but you're still the spoiled child that just want to fulfill her desires". After that she left, grabbing her invisibility as she left the embassy.

Jacob followed the erratic running of Princess Theodora from a rooftop through his binoculars. He didn't understand why his master had asked him to spy on his own daughter when he had first been selected for this mission, but as rumour spread, and as he observed Theodora's behaviour in a number of situations, the reason became obvious. Princess Theodora wasn't the angel her elder sister Princess Anna was. She always acted as if she was concealing things from her family. And Jacob was sure the elves had found out - for what other reason would she come in disguise to the Aelosian embassy?

Jacob just needed to know what they had found out exactly. He climbed down from his position and got into his car - he was going to be paying very close attention to the comings and goings of Aelosian elves in and about the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. He was going to complete the jigsaw puzzle, and he could already almost taste the Emperor's promised reward for finding out what Theodora was hiding from him.

Vorpalis quickly climbed the building to the rooftop, and starts to pursue Theodora jumping from rooftop to rooftop, trying to advance enough so she could ambush her a few blocks ahead. "I should brought a weapon, to scare her", she thinks, very pissed off by the behaviour of Cyanna. She puts her Ellösar cloak, making her invisible.

Meanwhile, a black sedan drives away from the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator. Inside, John Cardinal Friesz is pondering his conversation with Cardinal Walsh, head of the Holy Inquisition – now known as the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith – and his fellow Excalbian. The death of Cardinal Duras had led to at least one positive development, the conference that Cardinal Walsh was attending. But, it had also revealed many conflicting agendas.

Friesz knew through his Rev. Donnelly, his old friend and Excalbia’s Ambassador to Pantocratoria, that His Imperial Majesty’s Government back home did not believe for a minute that elves were responsible for conspiring to kill Cardinal Duras. It may well have been an elfish assassin, but someone else was behind the plot. Friesz knew that Cardinal Walsh had suspected the Roanian Cardinal Richelieu, but rumors of Inquisitor Simon’s efforts to clear the elven suspect had caused Walsh to question his suspicion. Friesz hoped Walsh’s suspicions were wrong. He couldn’t bear the thought of cardinals turning on each other over politics.

Friesz also knew that Rev. Donnelly suspected someone in the Pantocratorian Government. That would not be as horrible, would be terrible enough.

He put a hand to his forehead. It was enough to give him a migraine…

Suddenly, the car swerved. Friesz looked up just in time to see figure, more the silhouette or the shadow of a figure than a real person. The driver had oversteared to avoid her – he didn’t know why, but the figure struck him as a female – and Friesz’s window passed right beside her. He knew the figure looked at him and studied him. Almost as if comparing him to some image or memory. Then, just as quickly, the horrible apparition was gone.

Once his breath had returned to normal and his pulse slowed, Friesz looked at the driver. “What in the name of …”

“I ‘ave no idea, Yer Eminence. We’re jus’ lucky I dodged it. Ne’er heard tell of such a thing…”

“Unfortunately, I may have…” Elves! Friesz pulled out his phone and called Cardinal Walsh.

Vorpalis stands in front of Theodora, just at the entrance of a solitary alley, the perfect place where nobody's is looking, still protected by the invisibility cloak "Cyanna still wants to talk you. Please follow me", says the spy in a emotionless tone of voice. "She told me that she promises to tell you the name of the guard, please come back with me".

Princess Irene takes the offered cross.

"In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, in the eyes of all the saints, I, Irene Capet, Chancellor of the Holy Empire of Pantocratoria, solemnly swear that I had nothing to do with the murder of Cardinal Duras." swears Irene, without batting an eyelid. "I still don't see the need for you to speak to Father Guillot, Inquisitor, but I'm very interested in assisting your investigation. Tell me, you think one of the bishops had something to do with this? Or perhaps Count Kyrosal?"

Irene's eyes light up like she just thought of something delightful.

"Perhaps... Count Kyrosal committed suicide because his hapless son Bastianel was taken by mistake for a crime he did not commit!" she says, suddenly thinking of it. "Perhaps he killed himself because he felt guilty about Bastianel's arrest - because he was the true murderer! He thought he was only striking Cardinal Duras, but we arrested Bastianel for Kyrosal's crime... and overcome with guilt, he killed himself. Of course! All the pieces fall into place Inquisitor!"

Irene's mouth almost turns into a self-satisfied smile.

"And would not Count Kyrosal's DNA be similar to Bastianel's? Perhaps Kyrosal's DNA is also a match for the DNA found at the scene, and our labs aren't sophisticated enough to tell the difference between a father and a son." says Irene as she rubs her hands together. "That miserable minstrel, sitting in prison for a crime his father committed... I think you're right Inquisitor! I think you may have just set an innocent man free with your powers of deduction! It is all so clear now! But Inquisitor, do you think we can prove it? With your brilliant investigative mind, surely you can think of a way to undo this injustice!"

This is perfect! Irene thinks to herself. I still get my elf assassin, and I can satisfy that blackmailing elf woman by getting her hopeless lover out of prison... it is perfect!

Simon smiled evilly and pulled his cowl over his head. "That's why I want your confessor, Ma'am. I have... a little job for him." He stood up. "I want him to get access to the body. If we can get a little scraping of DNA... I can send it for analysis back in Roania."

"Meanwhile, I suggest that you find some way to get that awful woman and her minions out of my way. I don't need elves yelling about how it's against their belief systems." Simon spun his cape. "We can't afford to let Bastaniel come to trial. If the truth gets out, the Church, and your party, will be damaged severely."

<Bump>

Vorpalis stands in front of Theodora, just at the entrance of a solitary alley, the perfect place where nobody's is looking, still protected by the invisibility cloak "Cyanna still wants to talk you. Please follow me", says the spy in a emotionless tone of voice. "She told me that she promises to tell you the name of the guard, please come back with me".

OOC: I presume that she has made herself visible to Theodora but is invisible from behind due to the cloak?

IC: Theodora recognises Vorpalis' face. She nods silently and lets Vorpalis lead her back.

Simon smiled evilly and pulled his cowl over his head. "That's why I want your confessor, Ma'am. I have... a little job for him." He stood up. "I want him to get access to the body. If we can get a little scraping of DNA... I can send it for analysis back in Roania."

"Meanwhile, I suggest that you find some way to get that awful woman and her minions out of my way. I don't need elves yelling about how it's against their belief systems." Simon spun his cape. "We can't afford to let Bastaniel come to trial. If the truth gets out, the Church, and your party, will be damaged severely."

Princess Irene nods.

"But why would you need my confessor to get access to the body, Inquisitor?" she asks suspiciously. She reaches for her phone. "I'll get the Ministry of Public Safety to send you some of its samples, the sample taken from the scene, and the sample taken from Bastianel."

"I shall require Kryosal's DNA," He leaned back. "And is there a reason you seem to be keeping your confessor out of here?" Simon asks, concerned. "Are you hiding something from me?"

"Is there a reason why you're so insistent to speak to him despite the fact he's irrelevant and immaterial to your investigation?" Irene counters. "Besides, surely a man of your standing would find it much easier to obtain access to Count Kyrosal's remains than would an ordinary priest!"

Simon shook his head, sadly. "M'lady, it is my duty, as a humble Inquisitor, to seek the truth. I serve the Lord God. Are you saying that my authority isn't enough to gain access to your confessor? If I make this into a confessional, then what will your answer be?"

"You needn't have any authority to speak to Father Guillot, you need only wander into the Chapel of Saint Constantine here in the palace. That isn't my point, my point is that you seem insistent to speak with him for reasons I am incapable of fathoming." Irene replies.

"Are you saying you can fathom The Lord's wishes? For, as an Inquisitor, can I act outside of the Lord's will? No, I can not."

"Nevertheless, Inquisitor, I can't fathom why you're asking me to speak with him. You can speak to him yourself. He'll be in or about the Chapel of St Constantine the Great." says Irene.

"Then, so I shall." Simon bows and takes his leave.

OOC: I wonder...

Father Guillot hums the tune of a Greek missal as he prepares the altar in the Chapel of St Constantine for Evensong Mass.

Father Guillot hums the tune of a Greek missal as he prepares the altar in the Chapel of St Constantine for Evensong Mass.

"Father... a word."

"Hmm?" Father Guillot looks up from his work at Simon. He glances at his perculiar outfit.

"Ah, Inquisitor..." he guesses. "How may I be of assistance?"

OOC: Peculiar? It's the official Inquisitor outfit.

IC: "Yes. You are the royal family's confessor, no? I need an answer, and I feel you know. The fate of Pantocratoria hangs in the balance."

Inside the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator, Cardinal Walsh felt his mobile phone vibrate in the pocket of his vestments. He discretely pulled it out and looked at it. It was John Friesz. Certainly he knew that the Council had started. So it must be important. But, the vote was more important. He hit turned off the phone and replaced it in his pocket. The he stood to address the Council and vote to recognize John Paul II as pope.

After casting his vote, Walsh sat. Seeing where the vote was headed, though, Walsh relaxed a bit and decided to find out what Cardinal Friesz wanted. As carefully and as quietly as he could, Walsh slipped away from the table and moved to the doors of the Cathedral. He stepped out and opened his phone. Dialing Cardinal Friesz’s number.

“John?”

Static was his only answer, so he walked around to another side of the Cathedral. Still static. Walsh fumed. He didn’t want to be dragged away, but now he felt he needed to know what the call was about. He walked down the steps from the Cathedral and towards the public street.

“John, can you hear me now?”

Before Cardinal Walsh could answer, he saw a shadow in a bush turn and become the silhouette of a figure. The phantom raised two arms and pointed at the Cardinal.

Also in the shadows were two of the four inquisitors assigned to protect Cardinal Walsh. While the priests had been trained and assigned by the Vatican, they had been equipped by Excalbian Imperial Intelligence. The advanced optics in their glasses had alerted them to the presence of something milliseconds before the figure appeared. Not enough time to accurately target whatever it was, but it was enough time for the inquisitor closest to Walsh to leap into the line of fire. As several rounds from the shadow’s weapon tore into the inquisitor, Walsh was knocked to the ground and covered by a second inquisitor. As the other two inquisitors ran from around the corner of the Cathedral, the figure vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“Report!” Father Ekembi shouted as came around the corner.

The young priest on top of Cardinal Walsh stood. “I don’t know what it was, Father. It came out of nowhere. Fortunately, Father Davis and I had the Cardinal under close surveillance, as you instructed. Father Davis was closest to the assailant and he jumped in front of the Cardinal. I went over the Cardinal to protect him and wait for back-up.”

Ekembi nodded. “OK, Father Kim.” He turned to the priest on the ground, who was being tended by the fourth priest. “Father Marx?”

The older priest shook his head and began performing last rites for Father Davis.

Ekembi reached down and lifted up Cardinal Walsh.

“Your Eminence, I…”

“I’m fine, Father. I’m sorry about Father Davis. I had no idea…” Walsh shook his head and shuddered as he tried to regain his composure. “I guess we need to call the Pantocratorian authorities. We should also inform the Vatican and the Excalbian Embassy.” Walsh could see his car returning and saw someone in the backseat. “Cardinal Friesz is here. I’ll fill him in and then I need to return to the Council.” Walsh could see the objection forming on Father Ekembi’s face. “I know, Father, I know. But this Council is important. I’m sure the Pantocratorians will take all the necessary precautions. Especially now. And I will gladly excuse myself to give a statement. But, for now, I am unharmed, thanks to Father Davis’ sacrifice, and need to be about my work.”

Father Ekembi knew there was no point in arguing, so he bowed his head and followed the Cardinal towards the car to greet his colleague. Father Kim followed close behind closely watching the surroundings. In the distance, sirens had begun to wail.

OOC: Peculiar? It's the official Inquisitor outfit.

IC: "Yes. You are the royal family's confessor, no? I need an answer, and I feel you know. The fate of Pantocratoria hangs in the balance."

"I have the privilege to be the Imperial family's confessor, yes." says Father Guillot, putting down the candle he was holding. "I'll answer any question to the best of my ability, so long as it wouldn't mean violating the confidentiality of a penitent..."

"It shouldn't. Not a penitent. And it will not pass outside of these walls. Has anyone mentioned anything connected to the murder of Duras to you?"

Inspector Girraud answers his telephone in the New Rome Police Headquarters.

"Oui? Un autre? Nous venons!" Girraud slams down his phone and looks at Inspector Vern across the desk.

"Another Cardinal?" Vern asks, puzzled.

"Yes, an Excalbian Cardinal, who calls 'imself Walsh, was nearly shot to death outside ze Cathedral! 'Is bodyguard took the bullet, and is dead." says Girraud.

Vern grabs his revolver, checks it, and then puts it into his holster.

"Let's get going then." he says. "Think the same people are behind it?"

"Ze modus operandi is different, but perhaps. Zis conference was Cardinal Duras' dream, you know. Perhaps whoever is behind 'is death is now trying to stop ze council!" says Girraud as he pulls his jacket on.

"Well... you know what it might mean if the assassin is the same..." says Vern.

"Bastianel Dephil might be innocent." says Girraud. "Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. In ze meantime, let zat elf pig rot in 'is cell. We've got a killer to catch!"

The two inspectors leave their office and head down to their car. They head for the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator.

"It shouldn't. Not a penitent. And it will not pass outside of these walls. Has anyone mentioned anything connected to the murder of Duras to you?"

"Nobody has." says Father Guillot, as he resumes his preparations.

A transmission came from Frazer to Richelieu. "Johannes. Walsh has been targeted by assassins?"

"Well, so that's the news?", says Cyanna to Vorpalis, Princess Theodora still waiting outside the office.

"Yes, Alas, another Cardinal was almost killed. After reading the report, I would say that the assasin used an Ellösar cloaking device and a ShadowBolt weapon, but as far as we know, we're the only ones that use that technology. It wasn't a good job, professionally speaking, with all that stealth technology and the assassin couldn't kill his target", says the mysterious woman.

"But, the only Aelosians armed in this country are you and me, Vorpalis, so somebody is trying to frame us in another murder. With the use of that technology, everybody is going to point their fingers at an Aelosian assassin", says Cyanna in a desperate voice, "That's the last thing that we need, more killings. I was trying to show how good we are and always somebody is trying to show the opposite. Looks like another elven country is making these deeds. Tor Yvresse?, Thelas?, EOTED?, Menelmacar?. Noone except our allies have access to our weapons and cloaking devices, and they have nothing to do in Pantocratoria!".

"There's another one, the Archtraitor was an Aelosian too, he even designed the ShadowBolt mechanism". says Vorpalis in a hush.

"Prince Ma'El?, but he hasn't acted in almost a year. He dissapeared after the murder of our Emperor!". Cyanna's face was desperate, this could turn into a difficult international incident.

"I fought in the resistance, and Prince Ma'El used to send assasins like me to get rid of their enemies, assasins equipped with Ellösar cloaks, ShadowBolt weapons, and Black Lotus venom. He was skilled in the use of that stuff himself. The only thing for sure is that the roaming assasin is an elf. No human could use that equipment properly. And I didn't do it, so..." Vorpalis face was darker, she didn't like to remember the days of the tyrant Ma'El, the days of the Dark Elves.

"So...one of the Ma'El drow mercenaries did it. I suppose he's trying to destroy the reputation of the current goverment of Aelosia, so we enter another war and he could depose the goverment and return to power. Are the rumors about his...undeath, true?".

"I placed an entire magazine through his cursed body, and he didn't died. Enough proof to me. Cyanna, I will try to hunt down that assasin. I am, and I will be, the best assasin of elvenkind. I hate to see another guy trying to steal my title doing a nasty job", says Vorpalis raising her right hand.

"Namárië, my friend, sorry about the harsh words. You didn't deserve them. If we finds out that Ma'El is responsible for this murders, I should call the Aelosian authorities. The ShadowPrince swore to catch Ma'El personally", says Cyanna, taking off her glasses.

"I will find that drow, and I will kill him personally. That's a promise too. Shall I call the Princess?. I must go, I have job to do"

"Call her. I still need that Sven of yours killed, and the negatives in the hands of the Princess. You know that this must be done. Anyway, we can blame the Drow assassin, after all", the sad expression in Cyanna's face returns, trying to convince her friend of the need of that act.

"The existence of the Archtraitor is classified, Cyanna, and you know it. We can't blame him unless he's killed. Prince Ma'El doesn't exist, that's the external policy. And about that Sven guy. I will take care of that business, but I will use my own ways", says Vorpalis, leaving.

Vorpalis leaves the office, bowing to Thedora in her way out of the embassy "You can come in, Lady Paelisi wants to talk with you, Your Majesty". This is going to be a hard day. Too many missions to accomplish. Why I didn't finished my career?. Being a lawyer would be an easier way of life, says Vorpalis to herself.

Lord James Reynolds looked up from his papers -which he steadfastly preferred to computer screens - and saw Miles Sisko, one of his top analysts, with a haggard look on his face.

"Miles?" The Chief of Imperial Intelligence asked with a furrowed brow.

"Lord James, I'm afraid our Embassy in Pantocratoria has just reported that there has been an attempt to assassinate Cardinal Walsh."

"Good Lord! Another Cardinal! How is Walsh?"

"Unharmed. But one of his Vatican-assigned bodyguards is dead."

"And what of the assailant?"

"Nothing is known for certain. But..."

"Yes, spit it out man!"

"The eyewitnesses' descriptions seem to indicate a phantom..."

"A phantom, what sort of hocus pocus..."

"Possibly an elf, My Lord."

"Elves!" Reynolds sank into his chair. As if the whole situation with Upper Virginia and Varessa weren't serious enough. Now this. "Any ideas of why?"

"It makes no sense, My Lord. The obvious suspect is Aelosia, but an attack on Walsh makes no sense for them. Even less than the murder of Duras. It looks even more like a frame up, My Lord."

"Well, well," Reynolds stroked his gray beard thoughtfully. "Send our top agent, Kirk Steward, to Pantocratoria. With the Pantocratorian's permission, of course. Tell him to get to the bottom of this."

"Yes, Lord James." Sisko bowed and turned to leave.

Now I have to go explain this to the Chancellor. I'll be lucky if she doesn't have my head if this continues.

Princess Theodora enters the room, and looks at Cyanna in silence.

"I'm... sorry I ran out like that...." she says quietly. "Was there something else?"

"Yes, there is something else. How can I prove that my only intentions are to be your friend. Tell me, and I will do it. O you despise the elves as your aunt does?", says Cyanna, tired, she hasn't slept in days.

"I don't hate anybody!" says Theodora honestly, the desperation in her voice. "But please, I don't want to be involved in any of this! I don't know why you got those photos, or why whoever you got them from took them, but please, I've got nothing to do with anything! I'm 15 years old, I haven't even finished by secondary tuition."

"I don't want to be involved in whatever is going on here, I just don't want my father to see those photos!" she says desperately.

"All right, Your Majesty, please don't start to scream again or your secret won't be a secret anymore. I will help you, and I don't want nothing in exchange, ok?, nothing, and the guy who took those photos just wanted to show your...body to his friends. I'm not the right person to critic your acts, so I willl leave things that way. And tell me. How's Prince Tharn?, Bastianel sent me a letter telling me about him. He defined him as a soulmate, he must be a remarkable person", says Cyanna, with a warm smile on her face.

Theodora was incredulous that Cyanna seemed to be making small talk. She bit her tongue to stop herself.

"Prince Tharn hasn't talked to me for days, not since the night of the ball at which Bastianel was arrested." she says quietly. "He is a remarkable person."

"Now, kid, let's get to the real business. The guard's name is Sven, OK?. He's a dumb looking scandinavian guy, with an awful swedish accent. He took those photos, and he's probably holding the negatives. Now, what you want me to do?", syas Cyanna in a completely different tone, her face a stone mask.

"He's a Swedish guy named Sven?" Theodora asks. "Do you have any idea how many Svens we've got in the Varangian Guard? They're recruited exclusively from Scandinavian countries!"

She wrings her hands.

"Can you get the negatives from him? Do you think he'd give them to you?" she asks. "Or maybe, he'd sell them. Maybe I could buy them from him..."

Inspectors Vern and Girraud arrive in front of the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator, along with two uniformed police officers in another car.

The front of the Cathedral is crawling with police as the council goes on inside uninterrupted.

"My name is Vern, this is Inspector Girraud, we're in charge of the investigation." says Inspector Vern to the uniformed sergeant on the scene as he shows him his badge.

"Yes Inspector! My men have found some witnesses who saw it happen from various vantage points across the street." says the sergeant.

"Excellent." says Vern. Girraud indicates he'll go speak to them, and does so. "Now, where are the Excalbians?"

"Over here, Inspector." says the sergeant, leading Vern to the Excalbians.

"Which one of you is Cardinal Walsh, or has His Eminence returned to the council already?" asks Inspector Vern.

"I will retrieve those negatives just because I promised to do so. I don't know the man, but I can do the job, an acquiatance of mine is his lover, I think. And if you pay for them, someone will notice the money that you have spent. Let's do something. I will pay for the negatives, then you will repay me the money, when you have saved enough. Is that ok to you?". says Cyanna, trying to smile, but just a bitter grin appears on her lips.

Theodora nods.

"However much it is, I'll pay. I guess since you've already had the photos, I have to trust you, because you could have come forward before, and you could probably still come forward now and people would believe you. Since you haven't done that already, I guess you probably won't in the future. At least I pray that you won't." Theodora says and looks away. "Look, my sister is getting married soon and there's this thing on tonight I have to do as part of the celebrations. How will you get in touch with me when you've bought these negatives?"

"The wedding of your sister is today?. Oh, I wanted to attend, but duty calls first, I'll see if I can send another representative. I will see you tomorrow, then. I will find the negatives tonight. You don't need to trust me, anyway. It seems that elves and humans aren't made to deal with each other", says Cyanna "Send my regards to your father, your sisters and specially to your aunt, and tell her that I'm still waiting for her answer, and that I'm growing impatience".

"Oh no, not the wedding..." says Theodora. She forces a smile as she thinks of happier things. "Tonight there's going to be a production of The Mikado a musical, and... it is supposed to be a secret but I'm in it, and I need to go and get ready. It should be funny... everyone is invited to go, I'm sure."

"If... if you're telling the truth, and... and you're trying to help me, not just trying to blackmail my father or something..." Theodora starts. "Well... thankyou."

She leaves the embassy and hails a cab outside to take her back to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator.

Princess Irene dials the Aelosian embassy.

"I want to speak to Cyanna Paelisi. Thankyou." she says, and waits. "Lady Paelisi, I believe you know who this is. Listen, I think I can get your Bastianel out of prison. But what guarantee have I that you'll stay true to your word?"

A police officer enters the Chapel of St Constantine in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator.

"Inquisitor, father." he says as he nods respectively to both men. "Inquisitor, the Minister for Public Safety had my unit and I go over the chambers in which Count Kyrosal stayed whilst he was here in Pantocratoria with a fine-toothed comb. We've got several hairs, and flakes of skin which belong to him, which the Minister said to give to you for DNA analysis."

He holds some evidence bags with the promised items in it out to the Inquisitor.

"My word is more than enough, Why do you think that I haven't sold those photos?. What is making you think that I have some interest in what happens to you or to this country after Bastianel is out of here?. Princess Irene, I don't care anymore. I wanted to show how we are, but now that's out of question, I just want to leave this country with my beloved. Anyway, What you want as a guarantee?, What can make you feel safe?", says Cyanna, calming down her emotions.

Vorpalis appears again in the door of the Imperial Palace of Pantocratoria, this time disguised as a japanese geisha, hiding her pointy ears and holding a fan covering her features. She approaches to the guards and says "I want to talk with Sven, please. Is he around?", she asks.

"My word is more than enough, Why do you think that I haven't sold those photos?. What is making you think that I have some interest in what happens to you or to this country after Bastianel is out of here?. Princess Irene, I don't care anymore. I wanted to show how we are, but now that's out of question, I just want to leave this country with my beloved. Anyway, What you want as a guarantee?, What can make you feel safe?", says Cyanna, calming down her emotions.

"I don't mean to offend you, milady." says Princess Irene, forcing herself to be polite. "It just strikes me that I've nothing more than your word that you won't still destroy me even after I do my part. I want every photo of me you've got, the negatives and so on. I realise you could copy more, but I trust that you'll be honest enough to turn it over to me. That will suffice for my guarantee, does it sound fair to you? Bastianel's freedom should come very soon indeed now, it is only a matter of waiting for the bureaucracy to do its work."

Vorpalis appears again in the door of the Imperial Palace of Pantocratoria, this time disguised as a japanese geisha, hiding her pointy ears and holding a fan covering her features. She approaches to the guards and says "I want to talk with Sven, please. Is he around?", she asks.

One of the guards laughs.

"Must be one of the chorus for tonight's musical!" he says to the other guard as he approached Vorpalis.

"Sven? The guard who was on duty earlier?... erm... yes, I know him, he's in the same barracks as me. He should be there right now." says the Varangian. He gives Vorpalis directions. "There are security checks when you go into the barracks of course madamoiselle, and soldiers aren't allowed to have women in there, so just ask the officer at the front desk to ask Sven to come out to meet you out the front, eh?"

"I don't mean to offend you, milady." says Princess Irene, forcing herself to be polite. "It just strikes me that I've nothing more than your word that you won't still destroy me even after I do my part. I want every photo of me you've got, the negatives and so on. I realise you could copy more, but I trust that you'll be honest enough to turn it over to me. That will suffice for my guarantee, does it sound fair to you? Bastianel's freedom should come very soon indeed now, it is only a matter of waiting for the bureaucracy to do its work."

"Let me tell you what are we going to do. I would tell you that you can trust me and that I'm a woman who respects her word, but I know that most people judge the others by their own condition and capabilities. I will give you the negatives, so I couldn't copy more of those...funny images. But I will keep several copies with me, as an insurance. I will return those copies once Bastianel leaves the country. I will give you the negatives as a token of good will. I think that would suffice. It's that ok to you?", asks Cyanna, with an amused tone of voice.

One of the guards laughs.

"Must be one of the chorus for tonight's musical!" he says to the other guard as he approached Vorpalis.

"Sven? The guard who was on duty earlier?... erm... yes, I know him, he's in the same barracks as me. He should be there right now." says the Varangian. He gives Vorpalis directions. "There are security checks when you go into the barracks of course madamoiselle, and soldiers aren't allowed to have women in there, so just ask the officer at the front desk to ask Sven to come out to meet you out the front, eh?"

Vorpalis approaches the officer in the desk "Excuse moi, monsieur, I'm looking for Sven, the big, blonde, pretty guy. Can you tell him that her beloved is here, looking for him?. Arigato goziemashita", says Vorpalis trying to fake a japanese accent, bowing in an oriental manner to the officer.

"Let me tell you what are we going to do. I would tell you that you can trust me and that I'm a woman who respects her word, but I know that most people judge the others by their own condition and capabilities. I will give you the negatives, so I couldn't copy more of those...funny images. But I will keep several copies with me, as an insurance. I will return those copies once Bastianel leaves the country. I will give you the negatives as a token of good will. I think that would suffice. It's that ok to you?", asks Cyanna, with an amused tone of voice.

"It is acceptable." replies Irene. "And now, I must dash. Your precious Bastianel will soon be free, and I shall send one of my handmaidens to your embassy to collect the negatives."

Irene hangs up the phone, and leaves her office for the evening.

One of her handmaidens soon shows up at the Aelosian embassy to pick-up the negatives.

Vorpalis approaches the officer in the desk "Excuse moi, monsieur, I'm looking for Sven, the big, blonde, pretty guy. Can you tell him that her beloved is here, looking for him?. Arigato goziemashita", says Vorpalis trying to fake a japanese accent, bowing in an oriental manner to the officer.

The officer looks at his watch.

"Very convincing accent, madamoiselle, but you're going to be late for the production, it has just started!" says the officer, convinced that Vorpalis must be a female chorus member on the Imperial production of The Mikado. "I'll get Sven..."

A few moments later, the big blonde Varangian comes outside to meet Vorpalis. A big stupid grin stretches across his face as he sees her.

"Nice outfit you are being wearing!" Sven says eagerly. "We can't go in my barracks, but maybe my car is being a convenient place?"

"It is acceptable." replies Irene. "And now, I must dash. Your precious Bastianel will soon be free, and I shall send one of my handmaidens to your embassy to collect the negatives."

Irene hangs up the phone, and leaves her office for the evening.

One of her handmaidens soon shows up at the Aelosian embassy to pick-up the negatives.

"Good evening, madame. What can I do for you?" says the receptionist to the Irene's handmaiden, a pretty smile in her lips.

"I am 'ere to pick up a package for my mistress, Her Imperial Highness the Princess Irene, from a lady by ze name of Cyanna Paelisi." she says, smiling disarmingly.

Vorpalis approaches the officer in the desk "Excuse moi, monsieur, I'm looking for Sven, the big, blonde, pretty guy. Can you tell him that her beloved is here, looking for him?. Arigato goziemashita", says Vorpalis trying to fake a japanese accent, bowing in an oriental manner to the officer.

The officer looks at his watch.

"Very convincing accent, madamoiselle, but you're going to be late for the production, it has just started!" says the officer, convinced that Vorpalis must be a female chorus member on the Imperial production of The Mikado. "I'll get Sven..."

A few moments later, the big blonde Varangian comes outside to meet Vorpalis. A big stupid grin stretches across his face as he sees her.

"Nice outfit you are being wearing!" Sven says eagerly. "We can't go in my barracks, but maybe my car is being a convenient place?"

"I know you were going to like it. Inside this outfit is a nice surprise for you. But I'm not quite fond of cars. There's too much cars in Aelosia. Why can't we go to your barracks?. You promised me that I would know our little love nest. You know you can sneak me in, c´mon, don't be rude to your little butterfly", says Vorpalis in a seductive voice. This is making me sick, Cyanna will pay for all these humilliations, she will have to invite me to several dinners in the Imperial Palace, or at least another medal., she says to herself.

"I am 'ere to pick up a package for my mistress, Her Imperial Highness the Princess Irene, from a lady by ze name of Cyanna Paelisi." she says, smiling disarmingly.

"Oh yes, the envelope, here is it. She left it before going to attend her business", says the receptionist, handing her a huge black envelope.

"I know you were going to like it. Inside this outfit is a nice surprise for you. But I'm not quite fond of cars. There's too much cars in Aelosia. Why can't we go to your barracks?. You promised me that I would know our little love nest. You know you can sneak me in, c´mon, don't be rude to your little butterfly", says Vorpalis in a seductive voice. This is making me sick, Cyanna will pay for all these humilliations, she will have to invite me to several dinners in the Imperial Palace, or at least another medal., she says to herself.

"Well... I am not supposed to be having women in the barracks but..." Sven glances at the officer behind the desk, who has his back turned as he talks on the telephone. He grabs Vorpalis by the hand and hurries past the officer into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He leads Vorpalis to his room in the barracks, which he shares with another (not present) soldier. He slams the door shut behind him, and sticks a chair beneath the door knob so that nobody can barge in unexpected.

"Let's be getting the busy!" he says eagerly, unbuttoning his shirt.

The handmaiden takes the envelope, and nods politely.

"Merci, madame." she says, and leaves. She knew better than to open it on her way back.