BGM Set
[X] Think- "Obviously somebody has been killing the servants to lessen my education, sow fear in the ranks of those willing to take up the position and destabilize my mothers political power by creating a basis for rumors about me. Given Sheffield's obvious pleasure in my distress, she's unlikely to be any help."
-[X] Politely decline and investigate on your own.
Her smirk vanishes. "How disappointing. I guess you don't really care about them after all." She takes her leave abruptly, annoyed that you wasted her time. You quickly follow after her, not wishing to be stranded here, and the return trip passes in silence.
You think on what you can do next. You still want to figure out the truth. Unfortunately, you don't remember the names of all your tutors, and you don't know which ones died and which ones simply quit. Nor do you know exactly how they died. Sheffield probably could've told you all these things, but you'd rather get your information from a different source. Something about her rubbed you the wrong way. You don't think she'd disobey an order from the King- she'd definitely help you, but you're not sure you'd like the form her 'help' would come in.
You've put together the 'why'- at least, you think you have. You give thanks to your late tutor for teaching you to be at least slightly politically savvy. You know your father had political enemies. It is likely they carried over to you and your mother as well. By scaring away all your teachers, they take up your mother's time and stop you from learning things that could be used against them. You know the value of information.
Skill improved: Perceptive F
What eludes you is the 'how.' If you can expose how it was done, you might be able to prove that they were murdered, and dispel the rumors about you being a cursed child. You're not sure if your mother would be willing to help you with this. You barely managed to convince her to let you see your uncle, and that only worked because you could pretend you just wanted to visit him as family. No, you'll have to undertake this mission by yourself.
You decide to start by eavesdropping on the castle residents. You're sure you come up in conversation at least occasionally. If you hear the rumors directly from the source, you might be able to find a grain of truth in them. You line up against a wall, listening around the corner. You're alert, listening intently for anything that can help your cause, but you can't stay that way forever. Eventually your patience wanes and your focus slips.
"Milady?" A male caretaker you don't recognize spots you as you let your guard down. He must be new here, judging by the open and friendly way he's greeting you.
"S-sorry.." You sheepishly smile up at him. You really aren't very good at being stealthy and eavesdropping on people. It's not a skill you thought to develop. You tell him that you're fine and make your way back to your room. There's no point in continuing this- you were caught on your first try, and you'd have to eavesdrop for a long time in order to hear anything useful. Most conversations are about dull everyday things.
You try simply asking a few servants outright- you are their Princess, after all, but they can't tell you anything. None of your tutors lived here at the castle, and none of the servants remember any of their names, nor how any of them died. Perhaps they really do have more information, but they aren't telling you. You don't have the nerve to ask outright if they've heard anything about you cursing people to death. One of them gives you the idea to try looking over the census records for clues.
The census records track all births and deaths in the kingdom, but it's useless. The only name you have to go by is the old maid, and there are way more people living in Gallia than you realized. Lots of people die every single day. It takes work just to locate her name on the list. She died of old age, according to the ledger. That can't be right. Either this record is wrong, or she died in a way that resembled a natural death.
Or she died because of you..
Perhaps you could get into contact with another tutor; they might have information on their late colleagues. However, you don't know how you'd go about doing so. Even if you do manage it, it's doubtful they'd agree to meet with you, even if you ordered them to.
Your spirits fall. Sheffield was right. You really can't do much on your own. Your social circle has been limited all your life; you don't have anyone to turn to for help with this. It's frustrating. Still, you'll keep an eye out for any information that might come your way, and try to think of something that might lead you to some answers. Before you do that, however, you've got a birthday party to attend. There will be a lot of new faces in attendance; apparently you are now old enough to be introduced formally to the important nobles of the kingdom. You'll have to be as elegant and poised as you've ever been if you want to get through this.
--
"Ehehehe..." You giggle uncontrollably. Your kittens are so unbelievably cute. You've corralled them all into your room, and are watching them play innocently with each other. Certainly, there must be a provision in the royal edict of proper manners that grants an exemption for sufficiently adorable felines? Your inner voice is needlessly eloquent. You're not sure that made sense. You're glad no one is here to disturb you. At least your room is a safe haven.
A knock on the door interrupts your play-time. You quickly collect yourself.
"Yes?"
"Are you ready, Charlotte?" It's your mother.
"Just a minute!"
You look your kittens in the eye. Saber likes to follow you when she can get away with it, but this is not one of those days. "No. You have to stay here, Saber."
"Meow.." Saber looks plaintively up at you. You harden your resolve.
"It'll be fine, fine! You're fine!" You dash out of your room before your will crumbles. Along with Saber, you have Alter, Nero, and Lily. Alter is the darkest shade, and the loner kitty. Lily and Nero are both grey-ish and like playing together. Saber's coat is a very light shade of grey, almost white. She likes sticking to you when she can. All of your kittens are female. They're still very small; they're probably not even a month old yet. You've read as many books as possible about raising kittens and asked for advice from anyone you could to help. You believe that you can handle this responsibility.
--
It's your ninth birthday party. The initial phase consists of you welcoming the guests with your mother while everyone fraternizes with each other. Meaningless greetings and equally meaningless chatter threaten to wear down your patience, but you hold firm. You won't embarrass your mother by making a scene. When everyone gathers for dinner, you put to use all the lessons on table manners you've ever had. You doubt anyone is impressed, but at least you don't give them anything to criticize. The food is excellent, as always, but the company leaves a great deal to be desired. Though the talk is perfectly polite, you can tell no one here really likes each other. You just wish this would be over. At least you'll be opening presents soon.
When you turn to call for a refill to your drink, someone interrupts you. It's a noble you met earlier, with a glass of amber liquid held in his proffered hand.
"A drink for you, Lady Charlotte."
You look at him warily. "Um.. what is it?"
He smiles widely at you, gesturing grandly. "Only the finest cider in all of Halkegenia. I brought it especially for you. Won't you try it for me? Think of it as an early present."
This man's smile is false. Everything about him is false. You're not really sure what he's after offering you a drink. He obviously expects you to jump at the word 'present.' You don't think he'll take no for an answer, and you don't want to cause a disturbance. You almost decide to accept it, but you spot your mother looking alarmed out of the corner of your eye, and you reconsider. Maybe you can get rid of him somehow? Or you can just throw it back in his face. You've certainly built up enough stress.
What do you do?
[ ] Drink it. It's only polite.
[ ] Politely decline. You don't want it.
[ ] Throw it in his face. This person is annoying.
[ ] 'Accidentally' fumble the glass as you take it, letting it fall to the floor.
[ ] Ask him more questions about the contents.
[ ] Something else. (Write-in.)