Maggie found herself moving through the halls rapidly, wondering why it felt later than it did.  It was still morning, but the whole area felt.. waning.  Not as if night had fallen: night was avidly welcome in this place.  But more that the light was somehow weakening, as though the day to day rise of the sun had been shunted, and it was already on it's way to setting.<br/><br/>As soon as she noticed that this was unnatural, she became instantly more uneasy.  She spat out several expletives under her breath, wondering why in hell all this shit had to happen today.  Maggie paced towards the captain's office faster, pondering what it meant.  Perhaps the horse killer was nearby?  No, malice needed strength.  A being of rage would never off-set the energy of a rising sun, even if it abhorred it's existence.  What then?  Her Lady, certainly, wouldn't be causing this.  And her Lord.. well, he might.  The King was as intense as the frost in the dead of winter, and surely if a maid like her was getting riled up about all this, how much greater, and more tangible, would his anger be.  The thought was oddly relaxing, but not nearly relaxing enough.<br/><br/>She climbed the last staircase to get to the office, feeling the aura growing stronger.  The very stone around her seemed to be groaning with it.  She greeted one of the maids, who seemed to be on an unpleasant errand, and then whisked down the hallway, seeing the captain's door at last.  She felt hope rise in her chest as she saw it, and her next thought after that was how doomed we all were if<em>that</em>door was cause for comfort.  She trotted to the it, knocked twice and pushed it open, seeing a huge pile of papers and quills.<br/><br/>"Well, dammit." she muttered, turning away from the door and walking back down the hall.<br/><br/>Truly, she should have expected that.  The aura was coming from the direction of the throne room, meaning that Furyk was probably in audience to an enraged King.  She paused for a moment at the cross in hallways, deciding at last to go and see what was happening, in so far as she was allowed to know.  The servants standing outside the doors warned her that of all the things to do in the castle right now, being in that room five minutes from now was the last thing she wanted.  But when she pressed, they told her that it was an audience to greet royal family, not a war council, and if she felt particularly lucky, she could go in through the side door.<br/><br/>With all that had happened today, she decided to do so, at least to have a look at whomsoever was generating this aura.  With the stealth of a trained servant, she opened the door, slipped through with a turn, and closed it without so much as a foot step of noise.  She moved along the wall until she could just see the gathering.  It was true, those on the throne didn't look happy, though it was difficult to tell, given their flawless expressions.  The Captain looked ready to cut a bitch, which could mean he was feeling just fine, for all she knew.  But the man in the center seemed to pervert the notion of happiness by experiencing it.  Royal Family.  Well, that answered that question.<br/><br/>Maggie assumed a servant's posture.  She might have done well to listen to the advice outside the door, since it was one of the unspoken rules that once attending, you would leave only as directed, in service or as dismissed.  She waited patiently.