It took hours to tame the madness that occurred that morning. People fled the courtyard in all directions, trampling one another to get away. Any shout for order was drowned in the cries for help. Mothers clutched their children close and tried to shield their eyes from the sight of the mangled cadaver. Their wails echoed through the windows and down the halls of the castle, as the king’s staff frantically shouted and ran about to form their plans and bring some semblance of peace. Several Clockwork Men were sent to retrieve the body from its steel coffin, as nobody else dared to draw close from the stench.

Soon, once the body was out of sight, the town grew quiet. Nobody dared set foot outside the safety of their homes. They huddled with their families in their living rooms and whispered reassurances to one another that everything was alright. They told their children that the king would bring order. And they believed that they would forget the image of Vandenberg lying broken in his carriage.

High above them, within the castle that loomed its shadow over the town, there was silence. Beyond the marble walls and the intricate oak doors, the king sat on his throne, weary. By his side, in her own silver chair, Henrietta tapped her foot rhythmically on the floor. The red carpeting dampened the sound, but she could still hear every tap through the silence of the room. The two had sat there, waiting for any form of news, for hours.

Several floors below them, doctors and coroners stood in a somber circle around the body of Samuel Vandenberg. Every few moments, someone would whisper an observation to the others. No one touched the remains, but there was still plenty to discuss. Occasionally, a man would circle around the table where the body lay, leaning in to examine any markings on the bones or what remained of the clothes to gleam evidence as to just how such a ghastly thing could occur. But no one was ready to make a complete report.

Theodore watched from beyond a glass window. He was no doctor himself, so he didn’t bother the experts at work. Still, he couldn’t look away from the body. He was both intrigued and horrified. Perhaps it was the natural attraction to the macabre. Like a child who can’t help but stare at a bird that fell from a nest. Or perhaps it was his line of work. Tampering with forgotten lore and upsetting the natural balance must have surely left him peculiar. No matter the case, there was something strange and unique this incident that drew him in.

One doctor finally mustered enough courage to touch the body. He reached forward to unfurl the fingers of the skeleton’s clutched hand. With a sickening crack the hand opened up, leaving a bloodied brass coin exposed to their view. He glanced to the woman immediately next of them, unsure of what to make of it. He lifted the penny into the air to get a better look. It was difficult to make out the design or origin of the coin, but they wasted no time on it. There was more work to be done.

Theodore watched as they opened up the ribcage of the body, and reached inside. Even for someone like himself, he had to admit the sight was grotesque. Years of bottling vermin and dissecting locusts didn’t quite compare to the display before him.

It wasn’t until a doctor removed a stone from inside Vandenberg that he regained interest. The stone seemed to shimmer a deep red, almost crystalline in texture. They huddled around the object, as Theodore watched with growing curiosity. And shortly thereafter, a growing fear.

The hours crawled by. The king grew impatient. Henrietta grew worried. But news eventually came. A knock on the ornate brass doors to the throne room echoed through the chamber. With a slow sweep of his hand, the king welcomed the visitor in, and the closest Clockwork Man opened the door. The woman who entered glanced to the name embroidered on the machine’s shirt.

“Thank you...Isabella,” she said upon entering into the room. Each step was practically silent against the elegant carpet that lined the floor, surrounded on both sides by cold marble. She kneeled in front of the throne.

“Rise.” The king commanded, and so the woman stood. “I am not familiar with your face. What purpose brings you here?”

“Your Grace,” she began, standing at the bottom of the short stairway that lead to his golden throne. “My name is Agatha Ogden. I represent His Highness, King Bartholomew Fulton, of Tressepa. He wishes to confirm the date of your council.”

The old man scratched at his beard. He was not fond of peace hearings. Not for their results, but for the process. While truces and trade deals were always something to strive for, he couldn’t help but grow tired of the bickering and the raising of tempers that usually came before.

“Ah yes. I was eager to hear from Bartholomew,” The king turned to his daughter, chuckling as he recalled a story. “Bartholomew and I settled the trade war between Syllina and Tessepa, you know. Our fathers, rest their souls, could not see the pain such a war would reap on their people.”

The king sat up in his chair with a small sense of pride on his face. Henrietta had heard this story several times over, but she wasn’t going to deny her father a moment to reflect on his accomplishments.

“Remember this, sweet child. Tis a rotten king that would trade their people for their throne.”

Another knock at the door echoed out. Isabella answered, and Theodore brushed past her without a word. He approached the throne, kneeling beside Agatha. He hardly even gave the representative a glance, as though she were not in the room at all.

“My King,” He said hurriedly. “There’s been a...development with Sir Vandenberg.”

“Pray tell, what did they find?” Henrietta chimed in, eager to hear the results of the tests. She was more than ready to move away from the politics of Tessepa. “Where are the doctors?”

“I--” Theodore only glanced up to meet her eyes. He dare not even look at the king, who leaned forward in his chair. It wasn’t like the boy to be without words.

“Speak.” Arthur not so much commanded, as he did urge. “What troubles you so?”

“It is not I that is troubled,” Theodore finally managed, looking up at the king. His face was nearly as pale as his eye. “It is the whole kingdom. We should never have brought that thing into the castle.”