The nearer they drew to the castle, the more Sovel’s mood plummeted. By the time they’d exited the woods, all memory of the cheerful young man had evaporated like the morning mist. Try as she might, Atrinaska couldn’t think of anything to say that might cheer him.
‘It will get better?’ Of course it wouldn’t. ‘Chin up?’ His chin was always up. ‘At least you have… what? Lessons, training, and endless expectations?’
The best she could think to do was give him an awkward side hug. He understood. He always did.
After Sovel had gotten his Masterful talent, the responsibilities had only piled up. Father barely even noticed his other children anymore, despite both her other older siblings getting Elite talents of their own.
No easy feat, but nothing next to the firstborn son.
Atrinaska had been pushed. She knew she had. But not like Sovel. No one had been pushed like he had. Youngest that she was, her mother doted on her, and her father… well. He already had a successful child. More would be great, but why expend effort on great when there was Masterful?
He loved them, but he was a Duke first and a father second.
Never mind what Sovelorend thought.
The line of dense trees ended abruptly and opened up into the duchy proper. Estermont was a large city, but it prioritized defense over grandeur. The mist had cleared considerably since they left that morning, and now Atrinaska could see the tower. Built into the side of the cliff, Estermont’s castle was enormous.
Her rooms, three stories up, were a pain to get to.
The cliff was a strange one. It was concave on one side, as if a giant had taken a massive spoon and carved out a perfect corner of a regular mountain, leaving a flat valley below. The perfect place for a city. Surrounded to the north by the cliff, the woods to the east, the tail end of the mountain to the west, and the great wall to the south, a city couldn’t ask for better fortifications.
It needed them.
The wars had been active ever since she’d been born, and they showed no sign of ending any time soon. The people of Rechin Amut believed themselves to be the sole owners of the world, and as such, their war machine had conquered almost unopposed for the past century, expanding ever East.
The histories told her they’d never been defeated… They’d rolled over Moldungut, The Cha Jileet, and ancient Periduveh. No one even remembered them anymore. They’d charged through fledgling nations and ancient civilizations with equal fervor. Nothing had been able to stop them.
Until Tacuria.
Rechin Amut had once been a distant land. Information from that long ago, and that far away, was sparse, but they had begun as a small nation bordering the distant western sea. When the Rechin war machine had crashed upon Estermont and Tacuria, and for the first time in their long centuries, the barbarian culture had been repelled by Tacuria’s fire.
Estermont was the tip of the spear against them, and every new attempt they tried had failed. Rather than discouraging them, this only emboldened the Rechin people into further hostilities. An entire people built around the subjugation of other nations. They could not function in peace. They did not know how.
It always amused her how much turmoil they’d found themselves in, now that they could no longer expand. Their economy was collapsing. Their people were starving, on the verge of civil war. Her father’s advisors assured the duke that they were a year, perhaps two, away from complete collapse.
They had not only been stopped by Tacuria. Eschal had been more than happy to aid in the defence of their border nation, and they had also failed to conquer Berumetat, despite the nation’s general lack of an army.
Still, Atrinaska always had to be wary. Desperate and unaccustomed to defeat, Rechin Amut had begun to dabble in subterfuge and the art of the knife. Kidnap was a real possibility, but as long as she had her brother, she didn’t need to fear much. Sovelorend could tear apart the world, and she believed he would if she were ever endangered.
“I suppose I’ll be in meetings most of the day, Naska,” her brother said with a dissatisfied sigh. “Thank you for coming with me, though.”
“My pleasure!” Atrinaska said. “Much better than the last thing you showed me.”
“I still hold that the beast was unique!” he said fondly.
“It had five eyes, Sovel. Why did it have five eyes?”
He rolled his own eyes, and she smiled. She’d managed to provoke a grin out of him after all.
“Well… I suppose I shall see you late this evening then, sister. Don’t get into too much trouble between now and then, hmm?”
“My books will quake in terror at my recklessness,” Atrinaska replied.
Her brother sighed theatrically before turning back toward the amused bodyguard. “Lundryth, see that Lady Atrinaska does not befoul any unsuspecting books, would you?”
The man made an exaggerated bow. “I will not fail you, my liege!”
Sovel snickered as they arrived at the side entrance to the palace. “Well… off to the dungeons for me.”
“Good luck,” Atrinaska said, soberly.
Sovel nodded before walking into the first tower and beginning the long trek to the Duke’s solar. Atrinaska made like she intended to return to her own quarters until the door closed, before she immediately turned toward the library.
“My lady… might I suggest at least changing your attire? You’ll grow warm in those,” Lundryth said.
Atrinaska scowled at him, but conceded the point. The library was kept at a constant temperature to provide the most protection for the books. She always personally thought the fire mages could be more useful somewhere other than heating stones, but she couldn’t complain when she holed up in a corner to read whatever struck her fancy.
“Fine. But if we run into my sister, it’s on your head,” she replied.
He shrugged, and I turned to follow my brother. Instead of taking the stairs, I took the first hallway toward the residential area. I turned a corner, walking past the kitchens and almost bumped straight into Amanda.
“Goodness, my Lady!” she cried, horrified. She had good reason to be. She was carrying a bowl of hot stew on a tray.
“Well, that was lucky,” Atrinaska said cheerfully. “How’s your day going, Amanda?”
The girl paused, catching her breath, before meeting the youngest Estermont’s eyes.
“Well, my lady,” she said somberly. “My days have been–!”
She stiffened, eyes going wide.
Atrinaska eyed the girl curiously. The danger was over. She hadn’t even spilled the bowl. What–!
The girl jumped in sudden fright as the tray clattered to the ground, slipping from the frozen girl’s fingers.
Atrinaska turned, but only saw Lundryth behind her. Perplexed, she turned back to the kitchen girl, a frown on her face. “Are you a deer, jumping at every person who walks round a corner!? Call out if you must, but my gods, Amanda! That’s the second time this week!”
“I-I… I’m sorry, my lady! I’m so sorry. I’ll… I’ll get this cleaned up right away.”
The girl’s words were directed at her, but her eyes never left the guard until she bent down to collect the fallen tray. Thankfully, the bowl hadn’t shattered, but the soup had sloshed everywhere.
“See to it that you do!” Atrinaska shouted, stepping over the kitchen girl with a sigh. She missed Emerria. The girl had left suddenly a few months ago, and thus far, Atrinaska had not been impressed by her replacement.
Atrinaska paused a moment. Now that she thought about it, Emerria had begun acting skittish and nervous around her as well.
Was… was it her? She thought she was one of the kindest ladies in the palace. She was practically a saint when she compared herself to her sister.
But no… the girl hadn’t been looking at her. She’d been looking at Lundryth.
The man himself seemed supremely uninterested in the entire situation. He followed her, stepping around the clumsy scullery maid, just as she had, but…
Her eyes narrowed. She wasn’t foolish enough to turn them on the tower of a man. He’d been employed at the palace for nearly three years! He’d been her sister’s bodyguard, and now he was hers! His brother was in the army, and both of them were accomplished veterans from the Battle for Summer’s Gulch.
He would never hurt a fly!
Well… That was obviously not true, but he’d never hurt a fly that didn’t deserve it.
Would he?
She eyed him subtly as she strolled through the corridors. A creeping sensation slithered up her spine.
Emerria wasn’t the only young woman who had chosen to leave the palace abruptly in the past year.
A part of her wanted to ignore the suspicion, but she dared not. Her mother had always told her to follow every hunch and chase every thought.
It was probably ludicrous to suspect the veteran of any wrongdoing, but that niggling feeling wasn’t going away. Was he behaving too nonchalantly? Surely he’d seen the terrified look the scullery girl had given him. Did he not care?
She didn’t know. Taking a chance, she risked using Observe on the man for a brief moment. Nothing was out of the ordinary. He was incredibly strong. He was reliable. All indications implied he was loyal to the duchy.
His… fingernails had dried blood under them. There was also a speck of the stuff on the guard’s uniform.
She looked closer. Observe was a broad skill, but it rarely gave more than surface-level information. That wouldn’t be enough to accuse him of. A guard could have dried blood under his fingernails for a thousand different reasons.
Still, when she made it back to her room, she changed a tad more quickly than usual. While she did so, a plan formed. She’d follow him that night and see if he did anything untoward. If not, then she could put this whole event behind her!
If he did…?
Well… she wasn’t sure what she would do.
They arrived at the library quickly, but her mood had soured. She pretended it was due to her brother’s departure, which wasn’t so difficult an act. She was frustrated with her father’s monopolization of Sovel’s time.
Lundryth took up his usual post at the Library’s entrance, and she was happy to sink down into her favorite chair, at least temporarily protected from the man’s prying eyes. When she finally felt that she was alone, she pulled out the book that had drawn all of her attention lately.
Eykra’s guide to the transportation and sale of goods. It was a ratty old thing she’d found in the deep archives, where almost no one ever went anymore, and it wasn't even written in Tacurian. It had more pages missing than present, but those few pages that were there were filled with useful information.
She wasn’t surprised it hadn’t been discovered before. With a title as boring as that one, who would ever suspect that the book contained clues that might lead to the lost art of teleportation?