Brennan Picket was tired, so tired... Work to eat, eat to live, but what's the point of living if it's only to work some more? Day in and day out of this stupid guard job. What had the stupid royal family ever done for him? Nothing, that's what. Gave him a job, he conceded, better than most jobs out there. Still a stupid, boring, tiring job. Stupid topsy-turvy schedules leaving him too tired for anything but sleep on his hours off.
As he ruminated on those thoughts, there was a rap on his door. Well, the door he guarded. He sort of thought of it as his. He quickly stood at attention. A head poked through the opening and Brennan relaxed, recognizing Glenn from down the hall. "Hiya Bren", the older man nodded. "Food for the cap'."
Cap? Captain Calloway was down here, then. She must've been visiting a prisoner for a long time if he hadn't seen her since the beginning of her shift. He'd have thought Killian, the man he'd relieved, could have given him a heads up at least. She was probably visiting the new prisoner he'd told him about.
A plate of prisoner gruel slid through the door below Glenn's head. A questioning look only bought Brennan a questioning stare in response. After a few seconds, Glenn's look changed to understanding, then to dumbfoundedness.
"Ya ain't heard? Where the blazes ya been all day, under a rock?"
"Uh, I'm down in the dungeon, same as you..."
"What the blazes? What about before that? And that dumb boy Killy ain't gave ya the heads up either?"
"I dunno, I was sleeping..."
"Boy, the queen's been done in and they're all saying Cap did it. Found 'er knife in the body and everything. Ya ask me, it's real clear cut. Probably some dumb vengeance plan years in the making."
Brennan was taken aback. Calloway offing the queen? That made no sense whatsoever. Glenn didn't look like he was pulling a prank though. That said, he seemed way too eager about the news. Got a kick out of the whole affair, and getting to see someone's reaction to hearing the news for the first time. Well, Brennan wasn't interested in the gossip. He didn't really know or care for the captain anyway. She was just another boss. Boss of a boss of a boss, more like. He shrugged, took the food, and turned towards his hallway of cells. Glenn shot disappointed noises at him as he walked away, but gave up quickly, having received no response from Brennan.

Brennan found the captain's cell and knocked. Technically he was supposed to slide the food through the door with no further interaction, but he stuck around and peered through the slot. A captain of the guard betraying the royal family, that was the stuff of books. He really didn't care, but he did wonder what sort of person it took to pull off and follow through with that sort of plot. Or maybe Glenn was wrong and it was a crime of passion? It was hard to make anything out in the dark cell, but he saw the captain's hazel eyes flit up to his.
"You should return to your post", came her commanding voice, which Brennan had heard before in drills and parades. "Well, I suppose my guards aren't all as well trained as I'd thought they were... Picket."
A look of surprise registered on his face. "You know who I am, captain?"
"Of course. I know all my recruits."

It had taken her a second to remember his name, but Amyra did know all her guards. She sometimes glanced over guard schedules as well, though she didn't have every section memorized. That was mostly her lieutenants' job. The section guarding the royal quarters, though, she knew by heart. Heron and McKenzie on the bedroom door, changing with Bellings and Tanner at 4 am. And on the queen's private garden, Kickers and Smith (Perry), then Justice and Lanson. Not knowing the exact timing of the crime, it was difficult to determine which contingent of guards was involved. In the meantime, Picket (Brennan?) was still staring at her.
"What do you mean not well trained?"
Amyra pursed her lips. "For one thing, you are still standing here, interacting with a prisoner. But I was referring to last night's incident. The guards clearly let someone through, and it certainly wasn't me. Did you know any of the guards stationed there during those times?"
"It wasn't you?" the boy responded, and she wished she could see his face instead of just a sliver of his eyes. She thought about telling him the names of the guards she suspected - there was a chance he knew them, but not their schedules. But if he'd talked to them, they would've said something, and if he hadn't, she wasn't going to get any information. If he didn't know them, then saying names was just going to spread rumours. Instead she just repeated, "Do you know them?" He shook his head. It was also good information to know that the he assumed she was guilty. Always good to know what side the rumor mill was on. Picket kept staring at her until she finished eating, then shrugged and finally walked away. She couldn't blame him for his curiosity, given the situation.