"The Sheikah tribe?" Count Caedis frowns with gradual recollection. "The secret service operatives of the Crown?"
"The ruthless warriors from the Great War?" Sir Victor sneers in disbelief. "Posing as a maid?"
The accusing eyes of the congregation turn to abstract bewilderment. Impa looks inward: how could this unfamiliar woman be a member of her own tribe, with whom she was raised since birth?
"Who were you sent to spy on?" Cassida folds her arms with a narrow glare.
"I was sent not here to spy, but to protect." Imogen proceeds with her hands still raised. "I was alerted to the assassination attempt prematurely and dispatched here to Hyrule Castle to prevent the plot from occurring."
"What an exceptional success!" Tilda scoffs scathingly while clinging to her perplexed fiancé.
"I don't understand…" the King murmurs.
"I know this is a colossal burden of information to unload upon you right now, Your Majesty;" Imogen holds her hands up apologetically. "Particularly given the circumstances. But I can prove my integrity!"
The mysterious maid advances towards her predecessor. Impa peers into her eyes: crimson in colour and laden with that familiar sensation of misplaced guilt.
"Elder Gin." Imogen proclaims. "She was the one who sent me. She foretold the prophecy and dispatched me on this mission disguised as a servant."
The oracle recites the very same conversation Impa had shared with the Sheikah Elder, as though it was written on her face like a textbook. The two spies stand at a stalemate: mirrored in stance and purpose. Their stagnant silence is broken by the creak of the door.
The forsaken trauma patient wanders into the Banquet Hall guides by the glares of her pitiful observers.
"Where am I?" Marjory stumbles into the gathering. Her eyes widen at the sight of the crumbling snakeskin uncoiled on the tiles.
"Somebody fetch her a glass of water!" the Princess instructs as she rushes to catch the Cook from fainting.
Imogen moves to the kitchen but is restrained by Impa's grasp on her arm. "Not you: you're coming with me."
The Attendant escorts her prisoner to the door.
"And just where do you think you're going?" Sir Victor booms.
"Please excuse us, Your Majesty; Your Highness." Impa pardons herself politely. "I seek a private conversation with Imogen in the quiet of my own quarters."
"In the midst of a murderer interrogation?!" Captain Cassida protests.
"Let them go." His Majesty commands. "I have no doubt that these two ladies have no ill intentions."
"I wouldn't be so certain, Your Majesty…" Count Caedis eyes the pair warily.
Impa bows gracefully to the gracious couple before exiling her informant to the top of the highest tower.
