Mirabelle wandered the corridors with utmost caution. Her eyes and ears were keened as the candlelight of candelabras mounted on the walls exposed her shadowy form. She listened for the footsteps, and then the jangling of belts in order to determine how many people there may be. She maintained this approach as she moved onward. Mirabelle was aware that people will begin dispersing from the hall soon enough, and she had to be quick. [B][I]If I were a corrupt king, where would my personal effects be...? [/I][/B]Mirabelle wondered to herself. She then knew her answer in a heartbeat. Mirabelle began to make her way to the king's suite of the castle, taking care not to be seen by anyone along the way. 

She glanced around when she was on the royal apartments level of the palace. Around here, she knew the noble barons staying at Arthroyeaux would have their own living quarters on this level. At the moment, the Court Royale was not in session, which made it all the more easier for Mirabelle to wander without being witnessed. [I][B]As long as the Baron Garthois and his Majesty DuRant are still downstairs...[/B][/I] Mirabelle thought.

The young nightingale swept through shadows instinctively, before entering the king's quarters with ease. Royalty's locks were as easy as any other to a maiden so adept in the art of investigating the nobility. The only difference was the amount of time it took to unlock. Once the door clicked open, the nightingale slipped into the living quarters and looked around. Mirabelle was comforted only slightly by how alone she should be at that moment, but she still glanced over her shoulder nonetheless. 

There was nothing that was out of the ordinary for a king's living quarters. It was tidy, neat and ready to be used as if it had never been. Mirabelle noted there was little she could do inquisitively. At least, not without needing to spend the time putting everything back to what it was before she departs. Mirabelle sighed through her nose and then glanced over to the other doors. One lead to the bathroom, and the other lead to the king's study. The former caught her interest immediately. 

Mirabelle examined the study as she entered, noticing how less tidy it was compared to the living quarters proper. This was to Mirabelle's advantage. She started perusing through all of the curious documents left lying about and seemingly forgotten on the desk in haste. Many of them were letters from barons and baronets, invitations, complaints, or appeals, many of which were unopened and cast aside. After a while of sifting through the documents, Mirabelle tilted her head in curiosity as she looked over the opened letters. She noticed names that she knew no longer held titles of barony. [B][I]So... Is this just a coincidence, my king? [/I][/B]She wondered slightly. She then looked upon a ledger containing numbers, riches to anyone's eyes, of immense taxes and rents paid by the peoples of Ravenfell. 

The thought of DuRant smiling over this ledger disgusted Mirabelle. She just about moved away from the desk, when she noticed something. It was an opened letter, but she could recognize the lower part of the broken black seal that was used on the envelope. Mirabelle's brow furrowed in curiosity, and she took out the neatly handwritten note inside. 

[B][I]My lord,

I have accepted your offer. 
We will meet tonight after the feast. 
Find me in the library.

Yours sincerely [/I][/B]

The note was vague and suspicious, just as much as the seal that was used. Mirabelle returned the note just as it was, and made sure everything appeared untouched. She then pondered about the mysterious meeting that seemed scheduled for tonight. [B][I]I have to see this for myself... But then I would be leaving this behind. There is bound to be solid evidence here of his treachery... [/I][/B]She debated with herself. She then bit her lip and then came to her decision. [B][I]But surely this meeting will give me more of a lead on who he is affiliated with. [/I][/B]Mirabelle told herself, before departing from the living quarters. After leaving, she relocked the door, as any nightingale does, leaving no traces of her passing. She then made her way to the library, well aware that the feast was over by now, and that the meeting was to occur soon.