The next morning, Felecia entered Irene’s bedroom. Irene was still asleep in her bed, all snuggled up underneath her blanket like a caterpillar in a cocoon. But it was morning now and she needed to get up, so her maid walked right up to the other side of the bedroom and opened the curtains letting the morning light shine in. This only made Irene bury her head in the bedding and comforters to block out the light, clearly not wanting to leave the comfort of her bed.

Felecia smiled evilly, extended her cat claws, and then walked slowly toward Irene’s bed. With one swoop, Felecia sunk her claws onto Irene’s leg, making her jump up in shock. 

“Good morning, Irene,” Felecia smirked, retracting her claws. 

“Why must you always do that?” Irene complained as she sat up. 

“Because you asked me to do so if you didn’t wake up in the morning,” Felechia reminded her as she pulled out her nail file to file her claws. It was a routine she did using her claws in order to keep them sharp.

“I’m starting to regret that idea,” Irene complained as she rubbed the sore part of her leg. 

“You better get ready, you have a big day today after all” Felechia reminded Irene as she was finishing her claws. 

“Right,” Irene nodded as she got up from her bed and headed towards her bathing room, where she quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth, and painfully tried to straighten her unkempt bed hair. 

This is something that always happens when Irene gets up in the morning. Her mother, sisters, and sometimes the maids always insist that she wear a night bonnet to keep her hair from getting messy. But they're always uncomfortable to wear, so Irene didn’t bother with wearing one. Thankfully, Felecia is an excellent hairdresser. Her claws come in handy in getting rid of all the tangles and knots in Irene’s hair. It was part of why Irene asked her parents to make Felecia her personal maid.

Leaving the bathing room and sitting down at her vanity mirror, Felecia worked her magic and did Irene’s hair up in a bun, her bangs were then curled and pushed to the right side of her head. 

“Another excellent job done,” Irene smiled as she checked herself out in the mirror. 

“Thank you for the compliment,” Felecia smiled while getting out a magenta dress and some aqua-green ribbons.  “Now let's get you dressed up, your family is gathering for breakfast about now.” 

With Felecia’s help Irene was quickly dressed and ready, Irene smiled as she admired herself in front of the mirror stand.

“Thank you for helping me dress up.” 

“My pleasure,” Felecia smiled. “Now I suggest you go and eat some breakfast. You have a big day at the palace, after all” 

“Wait, you know what happened last night?” Irene asked, surprised.

“Word travels fast, it's already in the papers,” Felecia explained as she left the room. “Good luck today, and please watch your back. I have a feeling that the journos will try to hound you.” Those were her final words before she left. 

Irene was a little nervous about what Felecia had just told her. Journos were this world’s equivalent of journalists. She recalled what happened when she came up with the idea of the Sisterhood of Faith to help the nuns and monks of The Church of the Holy Mother. The journo would not leave the family’s estate for days. Hopefully, they will wait until she solves the case, but that’s just wishful thinking. With that, Irene left her room to join her family in the dining room. 

The dining room of the Ironblood estate had a small, beautiful chandelier that hung above the table. In the middle of the room is a handcrafted wooden long table covered by a white tablecloth with floral designs on them. Delicious food was spread out on the table; it included fruits, bread, eggs, sausages, ham, and fish. They are common breakfasts among upper-class folks, so none of the sugar-coated cereals that Irene ate when she was a kid. At least they occasionally have pancakes, waffles, and other goodies from Irene’s homeworld, which made her very happy. After saying grace the entire family began digging in. 

At first, everyone was quiet, probably from the incident last night. That is until little Matthew broke the silence. 

“Is it true one of the princesses was killed?” 

Poor Charles nearly choked on his coffee from hearing that question. “My boy, where did you hear such a ridiculous rumor?” 

“I read it in the newspaper and heard it from the servants,” the little boy responded, drinking his orange juice. 

Poor Magnolia looked like she was about to have a heart attack. “I don’t think little children should be exposed to such a serious topic, so just forget about it, my son, and focus on your studies,” the mid-aged woman told her boy, not wanting to scare the youngest Ironblood. 

“Mother, you're forgetting how smart our baby brother is,” Gessabelle pointed out while cutting her ham.

“I’m not a baby!” Matthew protested.

“You certainly are with that adorable face,” Gessabelle smiled at her little brother, who looked away wanting to hide his red face. Poor little Matthew gets awfully bashful whenever he’s complimented. Something that Irene found made him so much more adorable.

“I still don’t think children should be exposed to stuff like that,” Magnolia pointed out. 

“You can’t shelter them from everything, Mother,” Irene pointed out. “Sooner or later, they're going to find out about the horrors of the world.” 

“Is the world really that scary?” Matthew asked, a little nervous. 

“It can be, but with good friends and family by your side, the world is not so scary. I say this with experience," Irene smiled at her little brother, who was sitting right next to her. 

“Will you be there when the world gets scary?” 

“Of course! We’ll fight the scary things together as a family,” Irene promised Matthew, who got up from his seat to hug her. 

All the women in the dining room squealed in awe at how adorable this was, even Jessabelle. She may present herself as tough-as-nails, but at the end of the day, she is still a woman that loves cute stuff. Once done, Matthew sat right back in his seat to eat his breakfast.

“So when are you going to the palace, Irene?” Ella asked.

“After breakfast,” Irene answered. “I do hope the crime scene is untouched like I asked.” 

“Why’s that?” Violet asked. 

“It’s important to preserve any evidence in that room so I can figure out who killed the princess. For example, I would look for signs of a struggle like, say, a broken vase or mirror. Perhaps furniture that was flipped over or broken," Irene explained. 

"And how would any of that solve the mystery?" Jessabelle asked, confused.

“Well, it would give us an idea of what may have happened or who the perpetrator might be. Like broken stuff will suggest that there was a struggle or the flipped or broken furniture could suggest the attacker might be very strong,” Irene explained. “But most importantly, they may reveal fingerprints.” 

“Finger…prints?” Almost everyone asked in unison. 

“Yeah, every sentient being like humans has prints on their fingers and each person’s fingerprints are uniquely different and the prints are often left behind on the surfaces of everything. With the right tools, I should be able to extract some fingerprints and compare them to everyone who was at the ball yesterday,” Irene explained to her family, who all looked at her in a combination of awe and surprise. 

“You can do that?” Charles asked, much to Irene’s surprise.

“Is that not a thing here?” she asked. She did not anticipate that forensic science would be so behind when technology such as light, plumbing, and communications are so advanced in this world. 

Perhaps this first case will be the beginning of introducing forensic science to this world.  It could be just like how she introduced grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies. 

Before Irene could explain the importance of forensic science, something tiny zoomed past the door and landed on the table in front of Charles. She was Iris Rosewood, the little pixie housemaid and the delivery girl. She had short blue hair, and lavender-colored eyes and wore an average maid uniform, with the exception of wearing pants instead of a dress or skirt as she didn’t want anyone to look up her skirt whenever she flies around. 

“Duke Ironblood, we have a problem,” Iris said, sounding uneasy. 

“What is it, Miss Rosewood?” Charles asked, confused. 

“A bunch of journos are outside the gates demanding an interview with one of your daughters about last night” Iris informed the Duke.

Everybody looked at the pixie in disbelief. Little Matthew left his seat and walked to the window. 

“There’s a lot of people outside the gate!” he pointed out. Everyone else looked outside and sure enough a bunch of journos outside the estate, all eager to get inside. Thankfully, they were being blocked by the gate and some of the guards stationed there. 

“Seriously? Can’t those journos wait until the crime is solved?” Jessabelle complained. 

“Nothing can stop them from getting a good story,” Ella pointed out. 

“You should see the journos in my home world,” Irene added, thinking back on wherever she was watching the news back home and how they would swarm anyone just to get a story and questions answered.

“Iris, can you tell the guards to chase those journos away?” Charles ordered the pixie. 

“Trust me they're trying, but they've surrounded the property.” 

“Honestly, journos are like strays gathering at a trash bin. I just wish they would leave us in peace,” Magnolia complained. 

“They can be unbearable, Mother, but they’re just doing their job to let the people know what’s going on. Freedom of speech is a constitutional right in the country I lived in before coming to this world, after all,” Irene pointed out. She may no longer live in her own world, but she will never forget about how her parents taught her that freedom of speech is important to people. Luckily for Irene, the world she’s now in had similar laws so speaking her mind on issues was not a problem, much to her mother’s dismay. 

“Still, how are you going to get out?” Violet asked. 

Irene thought for a moment before asking Iris, “Has Mina left to sell the leftover milk and eggs yet?” Mina was the Ironbloods’ dairy maid who was in charge of delivering and selling dairy products at the markets when the Ironbloods had too many left over.

“No, she was still loading the wagon the last time I checked,” Iris responded. 

“Good, tell her to hold on for a moment. After that, please fly to the palace and find my brother and get him. I'll be over but in a different mode of transportation.”

“On it!” said Iris, before zooming out of the room. Irene then gathered her family around to tell them about her plan.