It was immediately after the funeral, that the time came to perform the unavoidably macabre task of preparing Ophelia's earthly remains for preservation. The body was taken to the royal resting-place, in the deeper part of the castle, behind quite a few locked doors and hallways. It was actually rather elegant, in the downstairs that had been transformed into this royal cemetery. Only a few spaces were taken up by large stone tombs, as many royals died away from home, and even more in a fashion where their body couldn't be returned.
It was almost like a museum, with stone inscriptions and portraits above each marble tomb. Princes and princesses, kings and queens, all of lifetimes now firmly in the past.
The duties of doctor and mortician often blended for Doctor Scarpezo, the very same crow that met the Cardinal not too long beforehand. Her body lied on the cart he rolled right to the empty marble tomb, hauled down by a few guards. What Scarpezo was about to do technically wasn't approved by the Vatican, or the royals, for that matter, but he was so avidly curious about his question: Why did Ophelia die so quickly? What kind of sickness or other affliction might have taken down the Queen in the matter of a night and a day?
The corvid carefully delved a scalpel in, but stepped back, as an answer to these inquisitions caught him off guard.
"Dear Lord," he remarked. This was decisively not the color any normal flesh was supposed to be. He needed no further inspection. This was evidently some sort of poison. He theorized, at first, that this was some sort of forlorn suicide, as the queen, after all, didn't seem so absolutely stressed when so deathly sick. Again, though, it was a natural condition to feel a sense of calm and happiness right before perishing. He decided to examine what kind of poisoning it might have been. Spreading pain, pale skin, and blackened flesh and blood. He knew what sort of thing caused those symptoms. In fact, he had some potentially poisonous ingredients that caused these sorts of things! He reached for the vial to take a look, but then remembered he gifted it to that Cardinal. Maybe he'd know—
"Oh SHIT." With that sudden and all too damning realization, Scarpezo quickly finished the preservation process, after stitching up the cut and giving the lioness her final resting place.
"Shit. God dammit. Shit! I should have never given that damn bird that poison."
Scarpezo composed himself after that initial bout of realization, then finally made the run to the church, knocking loudly on the doors. Iago was brooding away in his little room as usual, but actually came down to answer the door for once.
"Ah, Doctor," Iago greeted, opening the tall and wide door that led into the entrance. The white tiger remained silent in return, but tried to keep calm. They went past the sanctuary, and up the staircase, into the holy official's office. "You came to see me?" the cardinal then asked, making an innocent smile.
"Yes, I did, Your Holiness," Scarpezo said. He had the highest respect for holy officials like Iago, and wanted to at least address him respectfully. "There was a matter that I found to be of utmost concern while laying Ophelia to rest."
"Go on," the other bird raised an eyebrow as he urged.
"Well, I conducted an examination of the state of her body," the doctor nervously coughed a bit, brushing over the fact that he'd somewhat desecrated a royal body. "She was extremely frail, and the color of her mouth was grey and even blackened. This is suspiciously similar to symptoms shown with strong, sudden poisoning of a certain composure. Do assure me," the corvid continued, "that my gift was used in the proper way?"
Iago remained silent for a bit, facing away from the black-feathered bird. Then, he turned around, his face contorted and angry. "How DARE YOU! Dare you accuse a CARDINAL of REGICIDE? This is an INSULT to my reputation!" he nearly screeched.
"I didn't accuse you of anything," the doctor cawed. "I didn't even ask how she'd gotten a hold of it."
Oops.
"No, I mean, I didn't! It is only—" Iago stammered, but realized that he had actually incriminated himself with that answer.
"Go on?" Scarpezo mocked somewhat.
"You shut UP! You STUPID CROW!" Iago now hostilely said.
"Look, I believe you, Iago, I don't think—" the doctor calmly stated, but was interrupted with the sight of a dagger pulled on him. Scarpezo was now alarmed with the thought of being stabbed by this Cardinal's weapon. "You're not supposed to wield a knife," he questioned, backing away, knowing holy men weren't to wield weapons.
"Look, Doctor Scarpezo," Iago then squawked, attempting to appeal. "I need to tell you that there is enormous sin growing in the castle," the Cardinal explained.
Scarpezo suddenly felt the shock run down his spine. "Did you have Ophelia poisoned?" he softly asked.
"You will see a much worse fate that what she deserved and got, if you ever run your mouth. I will strip you of your reputation," Iago explained, flashing the knife, "because people listen to me. They listen to me, yea, more than their sinner of a king! And I will tell them YOU did it! After all, you had the poison in the first place."
"Don't tell them anything of the sort, please, oh please—" the crow started to helplessly twitter and plead. He believed what Iago threatened, knowing what power a holy man like him had.
He suddenly yelped, though, clutching his cheek as it was slashed by the older bird's knife.
"Out with you, then, if you wish for this blade in any place but your artery," Iago simply warned, holding his crow-blood-stained dagger high.
The doctor promptly took leave. The cardinal caught his breath, wiping the knife with a cloth, and then laughed in his craze.