Impa, Tilda, and Marjory peer over the pulseless carcass of the Chamberlain lying in the corridor.

"Oh, he's dead alright…" Tilda mutters. "But the question is, how?"

"Is there any way we can save him, Your Highness?" Marjory pleads. "A medical professional, perhaps?"

The Princess places her hands on the frantic servant's shoulders. "Marjory, I ask you to remain calm and inform the other staff of what has happened. They need leadership, and I personally consider you most qualified."

"Oh, Your Highness!" the Head Cook wails into the Princess's arms. "Your kind words will not be forgotten!"

"But what about the body?" Impa gestures impatiently to the corpse on the carpet.

"I'll take care of it!" another voice calls from down the corridor.

The three women lift their heads and observe the abrupt approach of a maid with platinum-blonde hair bounding towards them.

"Imogen?" Impa frowns. "Where did you come from?"

The maid ignores the attendant and kneels to inspect the body. She unfolds the stiff servant's collar and presses the neck with her fingers.

"Just as I suspected…"

"Excuse me, but you have neglected to introduce yourself!" the Princess insists. "I demand to know who you are!"

"With greatest respect, Your Highness, my identity is of no concern!" Imogen states plainly. "We need to escort yourself and your husband out of this Castle as fast as possible!"

"Fiancé." Tilda corrects her.

"Of course, my mistake - you're not yet married. Now, please hurry to the drawbridge! I will inform His Majesty and we can escape this place without any further injury!"

An unexpected clap of thunder rings from outside. Imogen rushes to the window and observes the lightning with unease. "Oh no…it's too late…"

"Too late for what?" Impa asks.

"Would someone care to explain to me what in the Goddess is going on here?" the Princess scowls.

Imogen does not answer, but instead points her finger to the sky above. Impa, Tilda, and Marjory gather at the windowsill to inspect for themselves. A soaring great barricade of red-tinted glass has risen around the Castle's moat, walling them from the outside world.

"What is that?" Tilda gasps.

"An impenetrable magical barrier." Imogen answers. "Designed to dispel any intruders…but also prevent anyone inside from escaping…"

Imogen addresses the three women before her with urgency. "Marjory: inform all staff of the Chamberlain's death, then gather every one of them in the Banquet Hall. Your Highness: inform your husband-"

"Fiancé."

"Fiancé…that no one may enter or leave the Castle for the foreseeable future."

"And just who are you to be giving out orders, Madame?" Marjory scoffs. "To Her Highness of all people!"

"With all due respect, Marjory, we haven't the time to deliberate on the hierarchy within this house – not when there's a killer on the loose…"

Marjory faints to the floor with a deafening thud. Tilda clasps her hand to her mouth. Impa clutches her stomach to contain the sickness brewing inside. A killer.

"Ok, she's out cold." Imogen sighs as she examines the fallen chef. "Impa; that means you're now responsible for collecting the staff."

"Me?" Impa retorts. "They're not going to listen to me! They hate me!"

"If they wish to debate your story, invite them up here to witness the body of their master decaying on the carpet." Imogen gestures to the rotting Chamberlain. "Otherwise, I expect they will obey orders from Her Highness."

Tilda nods. "I'm going to inform Daltus. Meet me in the Banquet Hall."

The Princess clutches the corner of her dress and disappears down the hall.

"And what of you, Imogen?" Impa turns to the mysterious maid. "What will you do?"

"I'll be cleaning up this mess." she tilts her head towards the motionless bodies in the moonlight. "Please be careful. And maybe lose the heels."

Impa nods and unstraps the inconvenient footwear to allow her utmost agility. A million questions race through her mind and she sprints through the Castle on her newfound mission.