The Princess; the King; the Commander; the Captain; the Lady; the Count; and the Royal Attendant. They reside within the refuge of the Banquet Hall along with the rest of the household; every steward and kitchen staff packed tightly around the banquet table, awaiting the King's address.
His Majesty rises from his seat to deliver the news to the anxious silence before him. "Family' friends; this is a grave day in the history of Hyrule Castle. It is with great sorrow that I must announce the death of the Chamberlain. A devoted servant of this house who gave his heart and soul to his work. I would like to say he passed peacefully onto the next realm. Yet, that is not the case.
He was killed; murdered in cold blood. And it seems the killer has other plans for this place. An enchantment has augmented around this Castle, ultimately suppressing the influence of the world beyond. In such uncertain circumstances, it is crucial that we remain calm. It's what we Hyruleans do best, after all."
He clings to his fiancée's hand for support. She intertwines her fingers with his; affirmation of her unwavering loyalty.
"My devoted household staff; you are hereby dismissed. Return to your dormitories and remain there until summoned."
The legion in waiting obediently descends downstairs in a tidal wave of whispers and mutterings. Impa goes to join them when her hand is gripped by the Princess. The King addresses the remaining congregation.
"And the rest of you, my Royal Courtiers; we shall retire to the lounge and wait this out. It shan't be long before my soldiers figure a way to remove that barricade and release us from this homemade prison."
"But Your Majesty…" Captain Cressida interjects. "What of the killer that wanders these very halls?"
The King responds with a stony silence. Her Highness steps up with the answer. "It seems we are his hostage."
The Captain clutches her pearls. Sir Victor strokes his stiff moustache in thought. Her Ladyship casts her head to the ground is subtle prayer. The Count shakes his head despairingly.
The door of the Banquet Hall creaks open. All heads turn to Imogen's conspicuous entrance.
"Good evening, all…" she waves limply. "Don't mind me…I just seek a word with Impa in private."
Her Highness permits Impa to vacate the Hall while keeping a firm eye on her footsteps.
Impa closes the door of the Banquet Hall quietly and accompanies Imogen to the stairwell, out of earshot of His Majesty.
"I know your head must be spilling over with unanswered questions like a pan simmering on the stove, but allow me to explain," Imogen declares openly. "There's a plot to assassinate King Daltus."
"Yes, I figured that out for myself!" Impa rolls her eyes. "I want to know who you are and what you're doing here!"
"Steady!" Imogen warns. "Piecemeal information would be preferable in this situation."
"Ok: what did you do with the bodies?"
Imogen shakes her head. "On second thoughts, perhaps it's my turn to impart some questions on you: where are the Sheikah tribe?"
"Excuse me?" the question knocks Impa aback.
"Are they close by? Can they help us?"
"I don't understand, how do you know of my tribe?"
"Oh, Impa, I know all sorts of things, but right now, what matters is what you know." The manic maid's eyes dart down each of the dimly-lit corridors. "One more question: where are all the staff?"
"His Majesty dismissed them to their dorms." Impa answers.
"Oh good Goddess, no!" Imogen cries and scrambles for the stairs.
"What is it?" Impa scampers after her. "What's wrong?"
"The basement!" Imogen shrieks. "The killer is in the basement!"
