They'd been at this for hours, and so far, all of their work had yielded them no results. Much of the blame could be put on Daphne's shoulders. Ever since that girl had interrupted their procedure early in the day, she had been unable to center her focus. Hardly had she contributed to the cause at all. Mostly she stood and she watched, hoping some epiphany would burn out the darkness in her mind like a candle in a dead winter night. As of yet, that had not occurred, and she was not hopeful that is would happen any time soon.
The process had started by draining the body of all its blood. At this point, it would only serve to get in the way, and as Lucien was no longer in need of it, what was the harm? From there they opened him up, starting with the chest. There had to be some reason that their magic had no effect on these children. Something that differentiated them from everyone else. Merga hypothesized that it was a layer of tissue in the skin, one that was not strong in a way as to keep out an arrow, as was evident by the boy's demise, but one that could filter out their conjurations. It was no easy task to prove. One shred of cells appeared very much like the next, and testing its effectiveness while not being attached to a living host made the nightmare only worse. Multiple samples were collected in vials regardless, to be used for future experimentations.
Next was the brain. They had Isadora to thank for that speculation. She had gotten it in her mind that the reason these children could not be harmed by their spells was much the same reason why mages could emit them in the first place. That they had access to a certain part of their brain that no one else did. It would be very easy for them to simulate brain activity by forcing energy into the nervous system, but if they wished to examine the reaction, first that had to get to it. Cutting through a human skull, especially one of a boy who was built as like an ox, such as Lucien was, was not so simply done. Not only did it require a great deal of force, friction, and resolve, it also needed to be done in such a delicate way as to where the brain would not sustain any damage. There were many methods they could have employed, but with the slim margin of time that they had left, a bone saw was their only viable option.
His entire body was strapped down to a wooden slate to limit his movements, and two of the mages secured his head from either side for added support. Agnes and Isadora were the two women dedicated to that job, while the Constable and St. Cyprus worked the saw. It took five painstaking minutes for them cut a flap adequate enough for them to examine the inside, and Daphne knew this for certain because she counted every second. As she was no expert in anatomy or trepanation; she left the matter of studying it to her other colleges. It was midnight by the time they all agreed that it would be for the betterment of the group if they got some sleep and returned to the matter on the morrow. Daphne was the first person out of the room.
Her path led to the bathing apartments first. Servants had to be woke and a fire had to be started to warm large stones. These stones were then tossed into the wide pools, bringing it to a near boil. In truth, Daphne could have warmed it herself with a simple spell, but she did not want to expend any more of her energy, and rather preferred the natural methods. One of the maids took a rigid horse-hair brush to every part of her body, scrubbing until the flesh was red and raw under her own order. Once the burden of the day had been cleansed from her skin, she wrapped her body in a towel and walked to her room. The guards on duty were rewarded for their late service with a passing glimpse of her naked legs as well as the skin above her breast. She imaged they'd all be bragging of their good fortune to their compatriots for a long time to come.
Back in her room, the towel was tossed to the side and replaced with a gown of gold and green that cut deep at the chest. She sprayed at her wrists and neck with a perfume of rose and cinnamon, knotting her wavy black hair to the back of her head in a bun that hung loosely off her scalp. After slipping a pair of sandals to cover her tired feet, she made her way back out the door of her room, heading for the stairwell.
On the top floor of the castle keep, two dozen guards made patrols in pairs around the enveloping walking, turning a blind eye when she walked past them. They knew to do that by now. With how little ease Kaito had been able to sneak his way into the upper apartments, Daphne wondered if they had seen her at all. Most of these men had been running the same shift for months, perhaps even years on end. After performing the same task routinely day in and day out, one begins to lose the contrast on what should be there and what shouldn't. If she had been in charge of the command, like so many thought her to be, she would have designed a rotating shift as to not let anyone get accustomed to their environment. Alas, she was not.
The center walkway that split the top floor into two sections was where the sorceress found the door to the Queen's private chamber. She had her hand wrapped around the copper handle when the rasp of a clearing throat drew her attention towards her back. Leaning against the door to her room in the small recess of the wall, the princess was staring at her with a cold demeanor. Her two sleeved arms were folded beneath her breasts, one foot tapping on the tiled flooring. The little brat had been the bane of her existence ever since they'd met. She was arrogant, controlling, hungry for power, and she knew exactly how to get whatever she wanted. In truth, the girl reminded Daphne much of herself.
"What are you doing out of your bedroom, Eve." When addressing a princess, even as a member of the Dwol Council, using the proper title was typically a necessity. Daphne often forced herself to forget that fact while speaking to Camella's daughter.
"I could ask you the same question. And do not call me Eve. Only my friends call me that. To you, I am either Lady Lockhart or Your Highness. A lady such as yourself should remember her courtesies."
"What are you doing out of your bedroom, Your Highness."
"I was waiting for you," Evangeline grinned. "I wanted to ask you; did you like the present I sent you earlier?"
If there was any doubt as to who told Adha of what they were doing with Lucien's body, that put an end to it. The only question left to ask was how the princess had discovered it. "You seem determined to make everything I do be as difficult as possible. Would you care to share with me why this is? What did I do to scar you so?"
"If I told you that, it would ruin all the fun. And have you ever stopped to think that I might be doing this because it brings me joy?" Truth be told, Daphne had thought of that, multiple times. The girl was much like her mother in that way. At least what she had been like as a child. "But none of that matters, does it? What's truly important is that boy on the loose. He was the one who found what my mother was looking for, wasn't he? And now that he's out of your reach, he's a threat to everything you spent so much time building up."
"I wouldn't be so pleased if I were you," Daphne told her. "If the boy returns here, he might very well take his anger out on all those who he deems have wronged him. And possible even those who have not."
