BAXTER+SEVDA; OMG I AM DONE
Who: Baxter & Sevda
When: After talking w/Dee
Where: Hold
Rating & Warnings: G, none!
Things were tense at the Hold right now. Sergeant Grey's death had hit everyone. Baxter could see it in his fellow Guards and even in the royal children. But nobody wanted to mourn, because he'd been an Other, and he'd attacked the duchess.
His aunt believed that line with all her heart. Lt. Jeanné had spent her time trying to figure out who had put him up to attacking her, and joking--but they weren't really jokes--about conducting random searches to make sure nobody else on her force was an Other. Earlier today one of his cousins had walked by, slammed him up against a wall, and then given a flippant apology and an, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't a dwarf."
So things were bad, and Baxter was not in a good mood. But then, Baxter was rarely in a good mood. It was just that today his quiet melancholy was particularly noticeable. He was relieved when his shift finally ended and he started back to the barracks with his head down and attention inward. Perhaps not the best way to walk through the Hold, but he was small enough that most people could avoid running into him simply by not noticing he was there.
By the time Baxter's shift was over, Sevda still had failed to collect her muddled thoughts into some sort of coherent response to Lieutenant Damica. Her governess had had to scold her several times already for losing focus on her studies or pricking her finger while stitching. What in seven hells could Sevda even accomplish really? She was a princess, but she was twelve. She was a princess, but she didn't know jack about how the Guard worked. Being a princess only got her so far; her meeting with Dee had demonstrated that much.
Face screwed into a frown, she was returning from her outdoor lesson with several guards in tow (security had been ramped up since Emilian's death, much to her annoyance) when she noticed Baxter sulking through the halls. Well, more like noticed a short guard sulking through the halls for Sevda couldn't be sure she had ever seen this one before. New?
She held her hand up to her posse guards, signaling her desire to stop. "Guardsman," she called softly, a conscious effort on her part to sound more approachable. "Why do you walk through the Hold so?"
He hadn't expected to be stopped by the princess. His feet stopped--his heart too, it felt--and he looked up at her in surprise. His eyes flickered over the guards standing with her. He recognized them, and was sure they recognized him; that made him more nervous than the princess's attention.
"Um...your highness?" he responded, confused by her question. Was she asking why he was here? Worried that he was trying to pull off an attack the same way Grey had? Hah, the very idea of that... "My post is at the Hold..."
"I refer to the manner in which you walk," she said, still trying to sound nice. It came out more tired, though, mostly because her brain was still fried. "Is something bothering you?"
'I always walk like that,' briefly crossed his mind, but he decided against answering with that. He glanced to the Guards at her side again, wishing that if she was going to talk to him she could at least send them away. "The, um. The events of the past few days are troubling, your highness," he said. "I'm only lost in thought."
She understood the glance and motioned her head to the side. After a pause, they stepped back and turned to give the two their distance. Sevda turned back to face Baxter, face set. "What is your name, guardsman?"
He breathed a shallow sigh of relief as the other Guards backed off. It didn't assuage his nerves completely, but it was at least a little better. He felt that he could actually give the princess his full attention now. "Guard Baxter Jeanné, your highness," he answered, a twisting anxiety in the pit of his stomach as he said it. If she didn't know his surname from his family's reputation, she'd know it from his aunt's. Lt. Jeanné was the last person he wanted Sevda to associate him with; everyone knew how fond the princess had been of Sergeant Grey, and the lieutenant wasn't exactly treating his death with sensitivity.
Luckily, Sevda had been too wrapped up in thinking to question the Guard to notice Lt. Jeanné's abrasiveness. And, truthfully, it's not like she knew what was going on amongst the royal guard at any given moment. Even if she was making a conscious effort to be more observant, it's not like she could have a 'spy' report back to her.
... Or could she?
"Jeanné," she said, not bothering to go into polite praise of his family name (her mind was too preoccupied to give a fuck), "Sergeant Grey's death has made me realize how little I understand about how the Guard operates." A pause accompanied by a head tilt. "Are you free to answer my questions?"
That was unexpected. He blinked, stared at her, started to say something, stopped, and shifted his weight to one leg, nervously rubbing at his arm. "I am, your highness," he answered finally. He knew plenty about how the Guard operated. Of all the things she could have asked him for, that was the one thing he was confident of his ability to give. "What...would you like to know?"
"Forgive me if my questions seem unorganized. It has been a long week." Anyone familiar with how Sevda addressed others would have known right away that she was being much more gracious than normal. No doubt Arman would have found it suspicious. "The Guard and the Royal Guard both fall under the King's authority, yes?" She was pretty sure that was a no brainer. "Anything the duchess orders would therefore be on the behalf of the King?"
That was really unlike her. He didn't exactly deal with her directly, but he knew enough about the royal children through simple observation to know when they were acting out of character. Sergeant Grey's death must have hit Sevda harder than he'd thought.
"That's true, yes. I mean, that the King is our highest authority. Um, technically the whole royal family is, but his orders are the highest. The, um..." He paused, glancing away, rubbing his neck. "The duchess's orders wouldn't necessarily be on behalf of the king. She can give orders on her own, but if he gave us orders that contradicted hers, we'd have to follow his."
So the case with Myron was one of three: that Ishmael had passed the orders down to Katrin, Ishmael left the investigation in Katrin's field, or Ishmael was unaware to Katrin's involvement in the investigation. Of the three Sevda found the second to be the most plausible; the duchess often took over matters to ease the burden of the king's crown. Or so she thought, but the women of the Guard seemed to think differently.
'Fostering rebellion.'
"And how often has the duchess or the King got themselves involved in a murder investigation? Or any investigation at all?"
A murder investigation? She must be talking about Myron. Baxter remembered Sergeant Naran's announcement and how he'd been careful to say that the verdict was Katrin's decree. He wished he knew the story behind that.
He considered for a moment, his eyes drifting away and then coming back to the princess's face as he answered. "It's not uncommon for a high profile case, but usually they'll just ask to be updated on new developments and deliver sentencing, not get directly involved."
Dee had said that as well. "And if they did get involved, what would you think?"
"Um...that...de...pends..." He glanced away, an echo of a wince showing his discomfort at the question. "I'd probably think it was something they had a personal stake in..."
Katrin had held no love for the late Lord Myron, so her personal stake couldn't have been that. She didn't think Ishmael had, either. Ugh. There were no answers here and she could not think of any other questions that she hadn't already asked in some other form. Perhaps she should just ask Damica for her evidence and then go from there.
Sevda fought the urge to sigh, instead forcing a neutral smile. "Thank you, Jeanné. I would ask you more at a later date, if you find that acceptable."
As if a guard would say 'no.' Dick question, Sevda!
Yeah, as if Baxter would refuse. Ha ha ha. "Of--of course, your highness. Anything you need to know. I have a ledger, too, if...if you prefer that." Her questions seemed like such a strange thing to ask; he wondered what she was trying to get at. Shouldn't she be more concerned about Sergeant Grey? Did she think his death was connected to Myron's somehow? Maybe only insofar as the duchess got herself involved in both of them...
When: After talking w/Dee
Where: Hold
Rating & Warnings: G, none!
Things were tense at the Hold right now. Sergeant Grey's death had hit everyone. Baxter could see it in his fellow Guards and even in the royal children. But nobody wanted to mourn, because he'd been an Other, and he'd attacked the duchess.
His aunt believed that line with all her heart. Lt. Jeanné had spent her time trying to figure out who had put him up to attacking her, and joking--but they weren't really jokes--about conducting random searches to make sure nobody else on her force was an Other. Earlier today one of his cousins had walked by, slammed him up against a wall, and then given a flippant apology and an, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't a dwarf."
So things were bad, and Baxter was not in a good mood. But then, Baxter was rarely in a good mood. It was just that today his quiet melancholy was particularly noticeable. He was relieved when his shift finally ended and he started back to the barracks with his head down and attention inward. Perhaps not the best way to walk through the Hold, but he was small enough that most people could avoid running into him simply by not noticing he was there.
By the time Baxter's shift was over, Sevda still had failed to collect her muddled thoughts into some sort of coherent response to Lieutenant Damica. Her governess had had to scold her several times already for losing focus on her studies or pricking her finger while stitching. What in seven hells could Sevda even accomplish really? She was a princess, but she was twelve. She was a princess, but she didn't know jack about how the Guard worked. Being a princess only got her so far; her meeting with Dee had demonstrated that much.
Face screwed into a frown, she was returning from her outdoor lesson with several guards in tow (security had been ramped up since Emilian's death, much to her annoyance) when she noticed Baxter sulking through the halls. Well, more like noticed a short guard sulking through the halls for Sevda couldn't be sure she had ever seen this one before. New?
She held her hand up to her posse guards, signaling her desire to stop. "Guardsman," she called softly, a conscious effort on her part to sound more approachable. "Why do you walk through the Hold so?"
He hadn't expected to be stopped by the princess. His feet stopped--his heart too, it felt--and he looked up at her in surprise. His eyes flickered over the guards standing with her. He recognized them, and was sure they recognized him; that made him more nervous than the princess's attention.
"Um...your highness?" he responded, confused by her question. Was she asking why he was here? Worried that he was trying to pull off an attack the same way Grey had? Hah, the very idea of that... "My post is at the Hold..."
"I refer to the manner in which you walk," she said, still trying to sound nice. It came out more tired, though, mostly because her brain was still fried. "Is something bothering you?"
'I always walk like that,' briefly crossed his mind, but he decided against answering with that. He glanced to the Guards at her side again, wishing that if she was going to talk to him she could at least send them away. "The, um. The events of the past few days are troubling, your highness," he said. "I'm only lost in thought."
She understood the glance and motioned her head to the side. After a pause, they stepped back and turned to give the two their distance. Sevda turned back to face Baxter, face set. "What is your name, guardsman?"
He breathed a shallow sigh of relief as the other Guards backed off. It didn't assuage his nerves completely, but it was at least a little better. He felt that he could actually give the princess his full attention now. "Guard Baxter Jeanné, your highness," he answered, a twisting anxiety in the pit of his stomach as he said it. If she didn't know his surname from his family's reputation, she'd know it from his aunt's. Lt. Jeanné was the last person he wanted Sevda to associate him with; everyone knew how fond the princess had been of Sergeant Grey, and the lieutenant wasn't exactly treating his death with sensitivity.
Luckily, Sevda had been too wrapped up in thinking to question the Guard to notice Lt. Jeanné's abrasiveness. And, truthfully, it's not like she knew what was going on amongst the royal guard at any given moment. Even if she was making a conscious effort to be more observant, it's not like she could have a 'spy' report back to her.
... Or could she?
"Jeanné," she said, not bothering to go into polite praise of his family name (her mind was too preoccupied to give a fuck), "Sergeant Grey's death has made me realize how little I understand about how the Guard operates." A pause accompanied by a head tilt. "Are you free to answer my questions?"
That was unexpected. He blinked, stared at her, started to say something, stopped, and shifted his weight to one leg, nervously rubbing at his arm. "I am, your highness," he answered finally. He knew plenty about how the Guard operated. Of all the things she could have asked him for, that was the one thing he was confident of his ability to give. "What...would you like to know?"
"Forgive me if my questions seem unorganized. It has been a long week." Anyone familiar with how Sevda addressed others would have known right away that she was being much more gracious than normal. No doubt Arman would have found it suspicious. "The Guard and the Royal Guard both fall under the King's authority, yes?" She was pretty sure that was a no brainer. "Anything the duchess orders would therefore be on the behalf of the King?"
That was really unlike her. He didn't exactly deal with her directly, but he knew enough about the royal children through simple observation to know when they were acting out of character. Sergeant Grey's death must have hit Sevda harder than he'd thought.
"That's true, yes. I mean, that the King is our highest authority. Um, technically the whole royal family is, but his orders are the highest. The, um..." He paused, glancing away, rubbing his neck. "The duchess's orders wouldn't necessarily be on behalf of the king. She can give orders on her own, but if he gave us orders that contradicted hers, we'd have to follow his."
So the case with Myron was one of three: that Ishmael had passed the orders down to Katrin, Ishmael left the investigation in Katrin's field, or Ishmael was unaware to Katrin's involvement in the investigation. Of the three Sevda found the second to be the most plausible; the duchess often took over matters to ease the burden of the king's crown. Or so she thought, but the women of the Guard seemed to think differently.
'Fostering rebellion.'
"And how often has the duchess or the King got themselves involved in a murder investigation? Or any investigation at all?"
A murder investigation? She must be talking about Myron. Baxter remembered Sergeant Naran's announcement and how he'd been careful to say that the verdict was Katrin's decree. He wished he knew the story behind that.
He considered for a moment, his eyes drifting away and then coming back to the princess's face as he answered. "It's not uncommon for a high profile case, but usually they'll just ask to be updated on new developments and deliver sentencing, not get directly involved."
Dee had said that as well. "And if they did get involved, what would you think?"
"Um...that...de...pends..." He glanced away, an echo of a wince showing his discomfort at the question. "I'd probably think it was something they had a personal stake in..."
Katrin had held no love for the late Lord Myron, so her personal stake couldn't have been that. She didn't think Ishmael had, either. Ugh. There were no answers here and she could not think of any other questions that she hadn't already asked in some other form. Perhaps she should just ask Damica for her evidence and then go from there.
Sevda fought the urge to sigh, instead forcing a neutral smile. "Thank you, Jeanné. I would ask you more at a later date, if you find that acceptable."
As if a guard would say 'no.' Dick question, Sevda!
Yeah, as if Baxter would refuse. Ha ha ha. "Of--of course, your highness. Anything you need to know. I have a ledger, too, if...if you prefer that." Her questions seemed like such a strange thing to ask; he wondered what she was trying to get at. Shouldn't she be more concerned about Sergeant Grey? Did she think his death was connected to Myron's somehow? Maybe only insofar as the duchess got herself involved in both of them...