What Little Remains Of Terpsichore Ironheart

"...How do you know it's a sick family member?" Squire Smith asked.

"I can smell some medicinal herbs mixed in there," Talia said. "But someone who just works in an apothecary is gonna smell like a lot of medicinal herbs; this kinda scent is consistent with someone who needs a few specific herbs to treat an illness. But he didn't smell sick himself, so it'd be someone he's taking care of. Probably a family member, but I could be wrong about that bit specifically."

"Huh," Squire Smith said. "Well, good news. That narrows it down a lot."

"It narrows it down too much," I said. "I know just about every elf and half-elf who lives in this city, and none of them are fool enough to do this."

"Except Joseph himself," Talia said.

"I beg your pardon?" Squire Smith asked.

"...I had contemplated breaking into Magister Brown's office to recover the funerary effigy of Terpsichore Ironheart, the blood-mother of my uncle and hearth-mother of my father," I said. "However, I didn't actually do that, partly because someone else beat me to the punch. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but thinking about robbing someone is not actually a crime, correct?"

"No, but I do have to sternly tell you to knock it off," Squire Smith said.

"Duly noted," I said.

"I also have to tell you that, legally, the statue does belong to Magister Brown," Squire Smith continued. "I understand where you're coming from, but legally, it is his property, and you won't actually be permitted to keep it in the event it's recovered."

"Yes, yes, I get it, I get it, laws are made to benefit those already in power, and the powerful don't think of elves as people with property rights of our own, you can shut up now," I said. "Unless you've got a useful insight into this investigation, we're done here."

"Not every elf in this city lives in Greenwood Village," Squire Smith said. "There's more than a few of 'em working in the Ducal Palace, in fact, and some of 'em are bound to have a bastard or two."

"...I need you to understand that my resentment right now isn't petty," I said.

"Yeah, yeah, you and every other loser who thinks he's entitled to a mansion and a butler."

"Let's go talk to some people at the Palace," Faith said, grabbing me by the shoulders and pushing me out the door.

---

"So what made you say you know every elf in this city?" Faith asked.

"Because I'm Joseph Ironheart," I said. "That may not mean much to you, but among elves, that name carries at lot of weight. Not every elf in this city actually lives in Greenwood Village, but it's certainly the case that most of them do, and the ones who don't still make time to visit every so often, because that's where their families live. Hell, even elves from out of town, with no family in Greenwood Village, come to visit because it's a really nice place to be if you're an elf... y'know, compared to the rest of Redwater."

Even just walking out of the Mage's Guild building, I'd gotten a few dirty looks from people I'd never met, who'd likely never met me, simply for the shape of my ears. In rougher parts of the city, well...

...There's a reason I didn't get around that much.

"And the reason Greenwood Village is such a nice place to live, even for the humans who live there, is Napoleon Ironheart," I continued. "He was an Elven Mage-Knight, like his father before him, and even fought in the War Of The Roses, until his unicorn, Elken, lost all hope and threw Napoleon into a snowbank, telling him the war was already lost, and to plant a new life for himself in the ashes. So, Napoleon moved into a slum, and started using his druidic magic to make things better for people. He healed the sick, fed the hungry, helped mothers deliver their babies, and cared for the old. As word spread, elves flocked to him, adding their own talents to his efforts, and now? Greenwood Village is a really nice place to live. Nicest place in Redwater that isn't the Noble Quarter."

"I see," Faith murmured.

"At least, that's the story I was told," I said. "The notion that there's an elf community in this city that is disconnected from Greenwood Village and Napoleon Ironheart is, therefore, something of a surprise to me. Because this is the first I'm hearing about elves working in the Ducal Palace."

"Which is a little weird," Talia added, "because if this was common knowledge, then we should, y'know, know it. If only from someone using it as material to bully us with."

"Anyhow," I said. "There's probably a reason none of us know what's going on in the Ducal Palace: for all that my dad's a big man in his community, none of us are part of this city's elite, and therefore don't get into the Ducal Palace. Which is going to be a problem, because now we do need to go there, snoop around, and ask some questions. Which... is probably going to be tricky."

---

Thankfully, it was not actually that tricky. We got near the Ducal Palace, but not quite within line-of-sight of it, and were suddenly stopped by an elf man I'd never met before, wearing a well-tailored tuxedo and a pair of white gloves.

"I'm afraid you don't seem to have an appointment with the Duke," the butler said, one arm folded over his stomach, the other behind his back. "If you could please state your name, the cause for your audience, and your address, I'm certain His Grace can fit you into the schedule sometime soon."

"My name is Faith Jones, Page of the Paladin's Guild," Faith said, carefully climbing out of the sidecar to stand up. "My deputies and I are investigating a burglary at the Mage's Guild, and we need to speak to the staff more than the Duke himself."

"...I see," the butler said, his ears twitching just the tiniest bit. A human likely wouldn't notice it, but to an elf? This guy was annoyed, now. Did the Paladins have a habit of harassing elves every time something got stolen? Because if they did, then they certainly knew better than to try that on Napoleon Ironheart's turf; he might not have a unicorn anymore, but you still don't wanna mess with a guy who can turn into a pseudodragon and throw lightning bolts if he thinks you're harassing his people. "I'm afraid the staff are no longer available for interview by the Paladin's Guild, per His Grace's orders. However, as it so happens, Her Grace, Duchess Melody, has an opening in her schedule, and would be quite willing to settle any concerns you may have. If you'll follow me, a valet will be along shortly to stable your... ah, pardon, I've never quite seen something like that. To what name does it answer?"

"My uncle called it a motorcycle, and I haven't yet found a reason to contradict him," I said, dismounting the bike. "At any rate, there will be no need for a valet." I pulled a canvas tarp from within my coat, and threw it over the now-unoccupied bike (Talia had been sitting in Faith's lap as a wolf again, and had been forced to get out so Faith could), which seemingly disappeared.

The Bag of Holding enchantment was such a useful one, and I am very grateful that my mother made a point to teach it to me early on in my studies.

"After you, sir," I said, bundling up the canvas and tucking it back inside my coat.

---

Duchess Melody Redwater was an obnoxiously gorgeous woman. Her skin was dark brown, with golden undertones and a light sheen to it that looked amazing on her cheeks, her nose, and other... rounded patches of skin. Her hair, rather than the deep black often found among people like her, was instead a curiously bright red, reminding me of nothing so much as a fox's summer coat, albeit a fair bit curlier. Her dress was undoubtedly more expensive than anything I owned (and I was definitely a person of means, all things considered), and yet it somehow conveyed the impression of "This is what constitutes casual clothing for me, when I'm entertaining a small audience of guests who aren't even my wealthy peers who I need to impress."

One of the things that conveyed that impression was that her dress had exposed corsetry, despite the fact that a corset is typically considered an undergarment. It was almost like visiting a normal person who wasn't expecting company, and they're just wearing a bra and a bathrobe. Except in this case, it was almost certainly done on purpose, and it was definitely on purpose that she leaned back in a very comfortable-looking leather armchair and fanned herself gently, while an elven maid poured us all cups of tea.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, sirs?" Duchess Melody asked, once the maid stepped back to the edge of the room, a serenely blank look on her face. Despite my temptation to focus on the elf as the real person in the room, it was in fact a practical reality of the situation that I could not in fact safely ignore the busty tart who owns a hat made of gold and wears it in public. For one thing, she'd all but confirmed my theory that the Paladins did shake down the elves with alarming frequency, to the point that even the wealthy and powerful humans were sick of dealing with it.

"If I may?" I said, eyeing Faith before she could say anything. "We're currently looking for a half-elf man with a sick family member. Are you familiar with the name Napoleon Ironheart?"

"So you're Joseph," Duchess Melody said, tilting her head as she considered me carefully. It wasn't quite "looking at me like a piece of meat," but I very much could tell that she was wondering how to incorporate me into her family's power base. "Well, Mr. Ironheart-" she snapped her fan closed, and tucked it into her cleavage, managing to fit the entire fan inside without any particular effort; whether that was a deliberate attempt at flirtation or simply a thing she did naturally since it was an option to her, I had no idea. "-as it so happens, while I wouldn't ordinarily disclose this information... A year ago, my personal maid, Amelie Rosepetals, came down with a mysterious illness that our Healers could not cure. She was unable to work, but considering the centuries of exemplary service she has performed for our House, we gave her a generous stipend, and relieved her of her duties until such time as she has recovered." Duchess Melody sighed. "And, yes, she does have a son- a half-elf by the name of Robert Thorn."

"Why doesn't he have the same last name as his mother?" Talia asked.

Duchess Melody clenched her jaw for the briefest of moments- clearly, she thought it was obvious, but was realizing that we weren't steeped in the intricacies of nobility.

"'Thorn' is the traditional surname given to a... child born out of wedlock," Duchess Melody said. "Now, as it so happens, we do know where Amelie and Robert live. But. Before I can disclose that to you, Mr. Ironheart... I require an assurance."

"That being?" I asked.

She finally straightened up in her seat, before leaning forward, dark brown eyes staring into my very soul.

"Amelie is mine," Melody said quietly. "Whatever price you charge her for your father's healing, it will not interfere with her returning to my service. Do I make myself clear?"

I picked up my teacup and took a calm sip, all without looking away. Fun fact about elves, our eyes don't dry out nearly so fast as human eyes do; you do not want to start a staring contest with an elf.

"It's her decision to make," I said. "Not mine. And not yours. And that's the best you're getting from me." Unless she decides to barter for elf-grown tea leaves; this tea was pretty good, and had clearly been brewed by someone who was really good at it, but there was room for improvement.

"...It will suffice. Claudia, fetch the address book, a pad, and a pen."

"Right away, Your Grace," Claudia said, setting the teapot down and walking out.