8. Moonroom
“Hey Pesco, found another mention of Kralle-whatever over here,” Bluebird spoke up, thumping the book in his hooves—A Modern Vexillological Companion.
His mentor set his own book down and trotted eagerly across the library to examine Bluebird’s finding. “Details?”
“Nothing much more than the last… foooouur,” Bluebird replied, unable to stifle a yawn. Over the last couple of hours spent scouring the library, the gently hissing steam of the nearby boiler room had almost lulled him to sleep more than once. “Just some book on flags. But look, I found an entry for Gloria’s home turf here. It shows their flag, which I guess looks like the one you found in the first book. And it mentions a King Grayson, who took the throne after a civil war. And there, a spot on the Griffonstone map for their territory. Would you say the borders line up with what you found in the second book?”
Pesco put both his hooves on the table as he analyzed the entry’s sparse contents. “Yes, to a tee,” he agreed, with a sigh. “Moreover, the date of the flag’s introduction aligns with the data we gleaned from On The Creation of Nations.”
“Well, you think this just about settles it?”
“We can no longer deny it: The Duchy of Kralle-Karom is no mere fiction,” Pesco admitted. “But isn't that convenient, that she hails from so obscure and remote a province as this…”
Right after their meeting in the foyer had adjourned, Bluebird’s mentor had taken Bluebird aside and wasted no time explaining Gloria’s ploy in smuggling a book past him and out of the library, after Pesco had accidentally snuck up on her. He had recounted the story to Bluebird in such exacting detail, with such dramatic emphasis on his words (that is, even more than his usual), that it was obvious to Bluebird that the success of Gloria’s improvised deception had dealt a serious blow to his mentor’s pride.
And if Bluebird had to come up with a single chink in his mentor’s armor, it would be his pride. Although a bruised ego certainly motivated Pesco, Bluebird merely worried whenever it gave rise to paranoia and tunnel vision.
“I’ll grant that she’s certainly not all tea and crumpets,” Bluebird said, “but do you actually think she’s lying about being a princess for… some reason?”
“No, I don’t think I would go that far with it.” Pesco cocked his head and explained, “First, we know she’s not the changeling—she was physically with us when the changeling attacked. Second, we know that others have attested to seeing her family on occasion. Or at least, Grid has. I’ll have to pry more about that…” His mentor trailed off into thought, before resuming, “Nonetheless, both these facts combined have a natural conclusion: The Gloria in this villa is griffon royalty. That said, I only wonder if there isn’t anything about her past that Gloria wouldn’t like us poking at, or risk Girard blabbing about.”
“Then why don’t we just go talk to Girard already? It sounds like the griffon himself is all for it.” Thinking to tempt (or at least amuse) his mentor, Bluebird added, “And besides, if Gloria isn’t keen on the idea, then maybe we should be!”
“Knowing her, it could’ve been a feint and she wants to waste our time. We can confront her and her cousin later tonight, once we have our own ducks in a row.”
Waste our time? We’ve already spent over an hour in this library getting just one of our ducks in a row! … Wait, is that alfredo sauce I smell?
“And so,” Pesco continued, “I would like to hit her where it hurts: Find where she stashed that book of hers. It won’t be easy, but I’m confident she ditched it somewhere between the library and the foyer. So, I’ll search from one end of the hallway and the adjoining rooms, while you—”
“Yeah yeah, you go right ahead,” Bluebird interrupted. The heavenly aroma of something savory had wafted into the library, and the cadet was helpless to resist after a full day's work. “I think we’ll both catch a lot more ducks or whatever on a full stomach. I’ll be sure to bring you back something good!”
Bluebird only waited for the first half of his mentor's permission before he ducked out of the library and in the direction of the kitchen.
Is it Grid making another meal for himself? The colt wasn’t kidding about his metabolism … I could take the time to more thoroughly interview him in the meantime, especially after all that business Gloria brought up … Huh, this smells way better than your average health food … and way stronger, the kitchen is still pretty far—
Bluebird’s brain corrected his nostrils: They were not heading toward the kitchen. His nose had taken him the complete opposite way, deeper into an unfamiliar part of the mansion. Whatever it was and why it was there, this scent came from a room that was now just up ahead. The glass doors to the room were open, and a magical aura sparkled faintly from within. Bluebird could recognize the sibilance of a hushed conversation taking place. He sidled up closer to the door in order to make out the words.
“Now, we may not always get along,” the slightly deeper of the two voices said in a dulcet tone, “but I think I can recognize the signs when I ought to act on my duties as your brother and have a little heart-to-heart with you. Whether you like it or not.”
“You sure you’re not just drunk?” the other voice mocked. But even on these few words, its wavering and cracking were evident.
“Quite possibly. But I think you know by now I’m a very high-functioning alcoholic. Go ahead, try your meal. I think you’ll agree the farinata is my best yet.”
After a moment, a soft yet crispy crunch followed. Bluebird didn’t know how, but he swore his ears could taste how good it was.
“… Damn you’re drunk. You’re drunk, and you’re right.”
“Précisément. Now, my antlers are getting tired, so I’m going to go take these plates on over to Zorn and the griffons. Don’t you go anywhere, sis—I’ll be right back,” Bon promised. “I’ll grab you one of your favorite gelatos, on the way.”
“To think just a moment ago you were chomping at the bit to cook for our two guests. What ever happened to showing off for them, huh?”
Oh!
“The detective and his tagalong can wait. You take priority, sis.”
Blast it.
Hoofsteps started, and Bon’s magic glowed more brightly as he approached the door. Bluebird didn’t want to be caught snooping; he quietly took to the air (his left wing throbbed only slightly) and darted beyond a nearby corner. Bon exited the room carrying two platters in his telekinesis and proceeded down the opposite end of the hallway.
“… a little something in mind for Grid later tonight anyway, bien sûr…” he heard Bon whisper excitedly to himself as he went. The light from his antlers receded into the distance.
Bluebird considered his options. On the one hoof, he considered it rude to have eavesdropped for as long as he had. But on the other hoof, the “tagalong” thought… in for a penny, in for a pound! He might as well wait for Bon to return and hear the rest, for lack of any other leads.
Once assured that he was in the clear, Bluebird flew back to the doorway and peered inside. It appeared to be a sunroom of sorts, or perhaps at this late hour, a moonroom: The bay windows on three walls opened to a panorama of the labyrinthine peaks of the Crystal Mountains all around, while the glass dome in the ceiling bathed the room in moonlight. Blanche lay kneeling in the center before a low table. At this table, she neither attended to her writing nor her meal, but instead gazed skyward, transfixed by the snow-flurried stars above.
Bluebird, too, felt hypnotized by the beautiful scene. It was only the sound of familiar hoofsteps down the hall that finally snapped him back to reality, and he ducked back around his corner for cover. Bon approached the door, this time carrying only a cup of something yellowish-orange in his magic.
“Your gelato, as promised.”
“Ehh… thank you.”
Bluebird heard Bon take a seat beside his sister. “Hm, was Girard mistaken?”
“How do you mean?”
“He told me a while back that mango was your favorite flavor.”
“Figures. No, not really.” She heckled, “What a mediocre fruit.”
“Haha, well we are twins—I knew I ought to have gone with my own tastes. Let me guess: buttercream?”
“Much better.”
“I’ll gladly take partial credit.”
“I’ll admit Girard’s wasn’t a bad guess, either,” she conceded. “I believe I made it Crestfallen’s favorite.”
“Who?”
“Deuteragonist from I Want to Die Fighting the Hero.”
“Ah, one of your story characters. That one was a couple years ago, was it not? I… still need to get around to reading that one.”
Bluebird heard a rustling sound as she shifted in place. “Don’t feel obligated.”
“It’s only partly obligation. I want to learn more about my sister.”
“That’s very magnanimous of you.”
“Hm.” Bon took a moment as if to examine or appraise something. “That’s your sarcasm, isn’t it? I know what that word means.”
Bluebird didn’t.
“For what it’s worth,” Bon continued, “I think Father is the only person in the world who wouldn’t pick you over me.”
It should have been hard to tell what Blanche was thinking, without seeing her face or hearing any sort of response. The cadet couldn’t shake the mental image of an elastic cord being pulled too tight.
“Have you a copy of Hero here at the villa?” Bon pressed. “Perhaps I could read it tonight, or even right now if you fancy—”
The cord snapped. “Bon honestly, not all of us will wither up and die without constant attention! I’m your twin, not your clone.”
A pause, and more shifting. Bluebird wasn’t sure from whom.
“… I’m sorry, that was crude of me,” she said. “If you want to learn more about me through my writing, read my earlier works. I don’t think there’s any part of me in the stories I write these days—no good parts, anyway.”
Blanche seemed to be guiding the conversation to some focal point she had in mind. Bon picked up on it: “And why not?”
“And why?” she inverted. The cord was stretching again. “Your audience can’t tell the difference between your heart and a cardboard cutout, so why bother? In fact, they prefer the bloody cardboard—my books have only been received all the better once I made the substitution.”
“The unrefined tastes of the masses can be cruel,” Bon sympathized. “But I should think the pertinent question is, do you prefer the cardboard?”
“To say nothing else about it, it’s certainly the easier material to work with.”
“Do you mean from an emotional or technical point of view?”
“Yes.”
“Well fair enough!”
Bluebird heard both the siblings chuckle, followed by a lull in the conversation. Scrapes and dings of silverware on plates led him to believe that they were now taking the time to enjoy their meals.
Eventually, Bon rekindled the conversation. “I imagine the things you have in mind run a little deeper than mango versus buttercream… Don’t you think we would enjoy seeing a little more of your heart, from time to time?”
“Have you ever seen a real, freshly removed heart, Bon?” Blanche asked in return, rather obliquely. “To the untrained eye, that big strange blob of muscle looks nothing like the colorful cutaway diagrams in the textbooks. The former will be impenetrable to you unless you already perfectly understand it, while the latter is a fiction, but a highly instructive one.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“What I’m saying is, cardboard is great. Not only is it cheaper, but if you want to tell the truth with it, it’s simply the better option for that, too.” She clarified by way of example, “Let’s say Jane Doe is a fawn in grade school. She’s a straight-A student, but she slips up and gets a D on her latest test. Her overall grade drops to a B. Oh well. But on that day of all days, just by chance, her parents ask her over dinner how her test went.”
“Oh dear.”
“Oh dear indeed. It would be a prideful lie to say she got an A, certainly, but to say she got a D might also give the wrong impression—Jane doesn’t feel the test was an accurate reflection of her academic abilities, and isn’t her parents’ question just a proxy for that? Parents don’t ask, ‘What is your standing GPA, dear?’ They ask, only once in a blue moon, ‘How did your test go today?’ And so, ultimately Jane feels honest enough saying she got a B.”
“Hm, I think I see where you’re coming from,” Bon said. “But what’s wrong with telling the unedited truth? That she flunked the latest test, but that she’s aced every other so far?”
“For one thing, it’s the same edit: It’s inserting an answer to a question they didn’t ask,” Blanche contested. “And for another, her parents might simply not believe her on the second part—or at the least, it could sow a seed of doubt in their minds. Why should Jane risk giving anyone that headache?”
Once again, silence reigned. This silence having followed a direct question from Blanche, Bluebird had to assume Bon was not dropping the subject, but instead thinking over his answer very carefully.
Finally, he spoke up. “Because otherwise, she risks her parents finding out on their own. And then, it is truly anyone’s guess what they’ll think and who they’ll believe.”
Bon met no counterargument from Blanche.
“Sis,” he continued, “I should like to know what the detective must have found in your bedroom.”
A fork dropped, clanging off of ceramic. “Hrmph… My brother, the high-functioning drunk!”
“The one and only. But I should think even a regular drunk could’ve seen the difference in your face, before and after I left to get my lockpicking tools.”
“Well, very well. I’ll tell you the unedited truth. But I can’t start from there—first, I have to answer a question you didn’t ask.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been writing a new book. Changeling Ringing. It’s… it’s a book about changelings. Obviously.” Blanche cleared her throat. “Now I know what you might think, given that I alone found the wing fragment in my room. That this is all some sick fantasy I’m living out, or some stupid ploy to market my book with a headline, or that I have some backroom deal with changelings gone wrong, or that I’m the damned changeling. I don’t want the headache of explaining why that’s all nonsense and that I’m just as in the dark about it as the rest of you.”
“It’s… it’s all right, sis,” Bon said, awkwardly but genuinely. “I wasn’t thinking that at all. I don’t think any of us would.”
Blanche sighed. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s not fair of me to assume my twin brother or my friends could misinterpret me as chronically as my readers have.” She continued, “But now the detective has every justified reason to believe such rubbish, frankly, after what he found in my room.”
At this point, Blanche elaborated to her brother the details of Pesco’s inspection of her room, that of the toolmarks on her pried-open window, as well as the unique material of the parchment the wing fragment was found on. This all was new information to Bluebird; it seemed his mentor had been so laser focused on Gloria that he had forgotten to fill his partner in on these recent clues.
“And the detective didn’t bring up any of it during the meeting!” Blanche vented. “I only imagine he’s convinced of my guilt by this point. It would explain why he took little interest in either Zorn or Grid as suspects. If he’s not ready to ring me up on false testimony charges, he’s planning to cuff me and cart me off to the Royal Guard for some brutes to poke and prod at me for who knows how long. God, the anxiety of it all, I can see where Zorn was coming from…”
Bon dared to laugh. “Ha, the detective doesn’t strike me as such a fool! I do genuinely believe you have little to worry about, my dearly dramatic sister.”
“… Are you so sure?” she asked, in a hopeful tone. “Hysteria doesn’t suit me, but I would be happy if that’s all it is.”
“Absolutely. Ma sœur, trust that the detective has thought it through logically: If our villa is teleproofed to perfection, and if you always lock your bedroom door, and if the changeling is demonstrably unable to pick locks, then how do you think they got into your room in the first place?”
Silence. “That’s… that’s a very good point, Bon. The window is the only answer.”
“Exactly. It’s no evidence at all that you used your window to sneak in after the changeling attack, or anything so preposterous.”
Bon did something that made Blanche snort.
“And this matter of the parchment,” he continued, “you said it’s not yours, so what connection could it have with you?”
“None at all, in the end—or nothing credible, at least. Just my paranoia, surely, which I’ve shown I have in abundance.”
“You’ve indulged me in your paranoias thus far. Why not this one?”
“You’ve got me there,” she admitted. “It’s just, well, I’ve been turning it over in my head, that parchment. How it felt, how it looked… And, hm, I scarcely use this material myself since it’s a notoriously dreadful texture for writing, but I’m suspicious it may be made from willow pulp.”
“Willow pulp? And what would be so suspicious about that?”
“Nothing per se. But I just wonder if it doesn’t mean to reference a certain—”
Heavy, plodding hoofsteps echoed from further down the hall. Bon and Blanche cut their conversation short as they, along with Bluebird, anticipated who might be arriving. Bluebird was the first to observe that it was none other than his mentor, who rounded the corner, stopped, and glared curiously at his eavesdropping partner. Bluebird had been gone for a while now, and he could only assume Pesco had left to check up on him.
Bluebird heard hoofsteps from inside the sunroom, too, as Bon and Blanche no doubt wanted to investigate the noise.
Once again, Bluebird didn’t want to be caught snooping; he flew on over to his mentor’s side and assumed a natural position just as the twins exited and spotted the two of them. Blanche held the farinata in her magical grasp.
“Ooh, is that cornbread?” Bluebird inquired dumbly. “We knew we smelled something good. You never told me you were a bona fide chef on top of everything else, Bon!”
Bluebird hoped that his mentor would understand and roll with it. And of course, Pesco did not disappoint, smirking as he said, “And how do you know Bon made that? I would call that an unfounded assumption, Bluebird.”
The cadet slapped his forehead. “This is why they pay you the big bits… or at least, why they should! Ahah.”
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Still leaning towards the griffins, with one being the changeling and one being the food source, or even the both of them being changelings.
And of course, more conversations and speculations are left unfinished. Definitely still enjoying this. At this point, I'm just going to take a shot in the dark and guess that if there IS in fact, only ONE changeling, it's probably Grid Iron. The other characters just seem too intelligent about each other and their lives/families. Plus, it's possible that he's taking the unrequited love from Bon directed at him.
These lines are suspiciously on-the-nose for me. So, in the name of off-the-wall theorizing:
There are two changelings, but only one imposter.
One of the residents of the villa is a changeling, always has been, and everyone knows this; this particular changeling reformed on their own or something similar. I'm leaning towards Blanche, based on gut instinct. She doesn't want "the headache of explaining why it's nonsense" that she's the changeling because "the changeling" is a different one than she is. Some of the residents are less than forthcoming about what they're doing (such as Zorn and his experiments) because they don't want the detectives to find out Blanche is a changeling and take her in without finding the actual antagonist.
The imposter is a royal-jellied changeling, looking for easy prey. They don't know the genuine friendship Blanche has with the others, assuming it's an act to feed. Being considered worthy of royal-jellying, they're arrogant, and so deliberately planted the bit of wing in an attempt to scare her away: "Look out, this neighborhood belongs to ME now." But Blanche cares for her friends and is willing to risk her neck for them, so she told the group, and they agreed to send the message out. Which resident is this changeling? ...No clue, honestly. Grid Iron, maybe? Although that's assuming they're in the spotlight at all.
(Alternative: Blanche is the jellied imposter and someone else is the known changeling. She faked the wing for an excuse to bring in detectives to cart away the competition. The bit of parchment chosen was to throw the scent off herself and frame somebody else.)
Yeah I'm increasingly distressed that nobody's considering that the core assumptions that 1) there is precisely one changeling, and 2) that it's permanently replaced someone, are both flawed. The latter is actually a more complex proposition than an outsider remaining on the periphery through only brief encounters.
Setting aside the possibility that there are more changelings than one, which does seem possible as others have said, I think at this point we can exclude Bon, Blanche and Zorn as suspects. The deer know each other too well not to spot an imposter and both have a wide array of skills that would be difficult to imitate convincingly. Unless again, we've been fed bad info and one of them is a changeling impersonating someone in the long term. Zorn meanwhile certainly hides something but he did provide a magic suppressant, which is already established to be a real deal, and the changeling seemingly tried to break into his room. Plus, he is supposed to be educated, which would also be hard to imitate.
Which leaves Girard, Grid Iron and Gloria. And at this point, none of them really got much attention in the story, aside from Gloria acting shady and possibly abusing Girard. And I don't think we've heard about any of them having unique skills or knowledge that a changeling couldn't at least try and replicate. So it's hard to call which of them could have been replaced. I'm actually sort of tempted to say that Gloria isn't the imposter, just because of how obvious are her shady dealings. I expect more from the changeling.
11235487
Assuming there is only one changeling in the mix, the strongest argument for why it isn't Gloria is that she was there when the changeling attacked! 🙃 There is, after that, also the fact that Gloria and Girard are the only ones with a strict alibi during the time of the "crime." From that point, I would have to agree that Bon and Blanche are too intimate to have an unknown changeling among them, and I don't think their father is open-minded enough to adopt a fugitive. That only leaves Zorn and Grid as obvious suspects, and Grid invites more suspicion, IMO.
11235476
There seem to be a lot of interesting ideas about what could be the cause of certain strange behaviors if there were more than one changeling, but I don't think I've seen anyone theorize as to how that could be possible in light of Zorn's experiments, which I thought established that there was one and only one. If we believe Zorn wasn't pulling some 200 IQ gambit just to confuse the detective (pending the details, I might be a little disappointed in the plausibility of the story if that turns out to be the case...), then I think there really is only changeling.
Otherwise, nice chapter. The first scene that was free from the investigators' meddling, as enjoyable as that has been thus far.
11235520
Kinda forgot about that detail actually.
So yeah, Grid or Zorn. The latter has the most evidence going against him, but there are also strong arguments to say that he's legit. And we don't know a whole lot about Grid.
Definitely leaning towards multiple 'lings at this juncture, especially given Blanche's very suspicious phrasing. 11235471's hypothesis seems solid... though it's possible that the doe's just keeping a terrible secret completely unrelated to her true species.
And, of course, there's also the possibility of collaborators. Grid Iron's kitchen coincidences paint him in a suspicious light, and Gloria might be supporting his alibi in exchange for some other favor. Or, again, because there's more than one bug about. And there's still the question of poor, little Girard...
Yeah, still a lot of possibilities up in the air here. Looking forward to more.
11235563
Zorn revealed as much to Pesco, unless I've fully misunderstood his chapter/the petri dishes. #OneLingToRuleThemAll
11235563
Exactly my point, there could very well be more than one changeling. I just said that IF there was only one, I'd predict Grid Iron. And also, I stand by Gloria not being it because if the changeling already had an established identity, it wouldn't have replaced her there in the confusion because then someone would be missing from the group!
11234938 I feed on hate... so I'm kinda like a Bizarro World Changeling... which would explain much.
11235471 Do we get to vote on the imposter and throw it out into space, or drop it in lava?
1.bp.blogspot.com/-7cSxcLgYtNQ/X-Hc-FT8n0I/AAAAAAADbFw/WnS-2HaL1DIOMcRwJo_UO8g39_RpOjzMQCLcBGAsYHQ/w1200-h630-p-k-no-nu/1.JPG
To be honest, I never really doubted that it wasn't, but I can't blame Pesco for wanting to double-check on this.
Assuming, of course, there's not more than one. Jury's still out on that one.
Yeah, Bon, what the heck? Detectives and tagalongs gotta eat too!
Atta girl, Blanche. Better to tell the truth now and get it over with than to withhold it until the others find out about it without the needed context later. And who better to start with than your brother, eh?
Gotta give Bon props for this in fact--he's being a pretty good brother at the moment here.
Actually, I think you overestimate Pesco's assumptions about you too. At the very least, you're not suspect number one at the moment, and I doubt you will become it any time soon either.
I suppose this puts to bed my theorizing about Bluebird for the past couple chapters.
Not terribly surprised, honestly, but it was fun to speculate about that while it lasted.
Not really anything new to add to the pool of data from this chapter other than I'm even more resolute that the changeling is NOT Blanche or Bon, and that at least Blanche truly knows nothing about the identity of the changeling or why it may be here at all. I'm thinking Bon's the same, but not with 100% certainty as of yet.
Beyond that my standing theories are largely the same as before, and I think Girard's most likely the changeling, but if so, he is likely docile and doesn't mean ill intent. Gloria may be aware of it, and her apparent abuse is an attempt to ensure Girard is not found out, but I'm not sure Girard is totally cooperative or agrees with her approach. With this line of thought, the wing fragment left in Blanche's room was an attempt at "crying for help" so to try and discreetly clue in the others in hopes this may present a rectification to these problems. There may or may not be a second changeling (or more), but if so, they are from the outside and are not assuming any one form, instead just bouncing around between what form works best for the given moment, and also probably are not here to do evil per se, but will still defend itself if necessary. This "other" changeling, if its here, may be here in an attempt to "assist" the first with its problems, but this "assistance" may or may not be wanted. Whoever the changeling was who attacked Bluebird, they have been present long enough to be able to accurately take the form of anyone in the mansion (including Pesco and Bluebird) to be fully convincing for at least brief encounters. This would suggest that changeling was at least present in the room, disguised, when Pesco and Bluebird first arrived, and possibly for every group meeting that followed thereafter. If there are more than one changeling, then likely another of the group besides my suspect Girard is likely also a changeling, or has been replaced by one.
I have more I could offer, but I'm not as confident of the details for that as of yet, so I'll settle for just this for now.
11235520
One of my theories earlier is that all six might be changelings, and Zorn's test detected a royal among regulars.
More likely is that he was just doing some friendly research on a known changeling before a hostile one showed up. He's spent quite a bit of effort pushing the detectives away from his test after all. If the bad guy was the only one around it wouldn't make much sense to withhold that, and it would also give the hostile changeling a motive to break into his lab and find the friendly one.
Slowly i think, that either the detective or a pair of rhem Arena the changeling
11235990
Ah, that makes a little more sense.
I suppose only time will tell, then, which number of changelings proves correct...
11235929
If I had to guess the relevance of this chapter to the plot (that is, what it's meant to add to the pool of data), it would be the interrupted line about willow pulp—I have no ideas about that, but I'm sure it's important—and some in-character discussion about what it really means to tell the truth, why we tell lies, etc. A discussion that I'm sure the changeling would have had a lot of input on if they had been present (who knows, maybe they were!). Maybe it's a meta-narrative hint that the changeling feels the same paranoia as Blanche does about opening up? And maybe Bon's kindly reaction to that paranoia is to say that the changeling's opening up will be handled kindly by Bon? (If so, not sure about the others like Blanche herself and Gloria, who have had very negative things to say about changelings.) Or maybe it's just a plain old narrative hint that Blanche is testing the waters before actually revealing herself, on the very off chance it's her.
11236051
Oh yeah, no complaints about this chapter at all really, because it's still a fascinating character study nonetheless, even if it ultimately doesn't provide any clear clues about solving this mystery. And that's fine, because to me, the story isn't JUST about solving this mystery, it's also about learning more about the nature of this group of school friends and who they are and why, and this chapter is ALL about that, if nothing else.
That said, yes, there probably are still a couple clues hidden in there somewhere concerning the changeling mystery, but if so, they are not yet fully obvious to us the readers.
I've never heard of willow being used to make paper or parchment. I'll take you on your word that it's bad for writing and drawing, but if you're talking about references, I took a fast look at the Willow page on Wikipedia and ended up on the section about pests and parasites. Apparently, the Rabdophaga rosaria is a fly that's part of a family informally called the gall midges. The larvae of the things grow by feeding upon a plant and causing tumor-like damages on the plant, and for this fly in particular, the larva grows inside said damage.
I've either uncovered a hint that will take me several chapters ahead or I've just discovered an unrelated but informative fact about flies.
If the former is true, then there has to be something related to... growing inside something or otherwise related to tumor growths. I can metaphorize on the latter and try to point out the most toxic person in the group of friends and have him or her as the changeling, but that's too direct. It's the growing-inside part that intrigues me. I don't know how much of the manor is made up of wood, but could it be a sign that there are changeling eggs in the manor, too... but then I'll be digging myself a deep rabbit hole if I go down that train of thought further.
Now, on further inspection, the parchment may be a hint at what exactly this officer may be planning to do on a wider scale. A wing fragment just states that there's a changeling, but parchment that's not from this house means that the changeling had the parchment before he came here. If so, why? If Blanche's window is the point of entry and the changeling happened to drop the parchment without noticing (along with the wing fragment), then he's either lost that on purpose because he's only carrying one and actually should know that he's lost the only piece he's had, or there's a stack of papers he's carrying and he's hiding that along with himself. Since the fight scene two chapters ago would be rather awkward if he was also carrying papers with him (maybe he had a bag?), he's either stashed the papers somewhere or... that one parchment being all he has is more likely.
If willow pulp is bad to write on, then it's a nice detail that the changelings are quite behind, to put it lightly (though if things like the hive mind and such are true in this fic, it's understandable why paper hasn't gotten many advances). But if that's the case, who is he delivering it to? Why a (supposedly) blank piece of paper? Or is it just an in-your-face taunt about flies that grow on willows and that he's slowly tearing the groups to shreds?
Blanche is still #2 from the last chapter, and I'm still gonna keep it that way, even though she's got more of an arc now. It's easier to blend in when the person you're disguised as already has signs that she knows a lot about changelings, and Bon is giving her some well-needed sibling love.
Still, overall, it's not much for the mystery part (though it has some, thanks to willow pulp), but it goes well to just humanize (deer-ize?) Bon and Blanche. I think it was obvious that there's more to all the suspects than meets the eye, but it's one thing to expect it and another thing to experience it. It's poignant, and if you take out Pesco and Bluebird appearing in their room, it might as well be a chapter from a completely unrelated story.
Final thing, this part here...
...is a good answer to Blanche's own words from Chapter 2:
First, Pesco telling Zorn to trust his friends and not let the serum go to waste, and now Bon nudging Blanche, intentionally or not, to reveal her "coincidental" novel-writing to everyone and trust that they won't out her as the changeling automatically. I'm all in for friendship and trust beating out the changeling, and if this is how it ends, I'll have to watch out for the one character either too hesitant or too eager to jump in on the "I need to learn how to trust my friends" bandwagon.