27 Wesve Already Me (1/2)

Isilla hurried along the hall, Ilun trotting beside her, focused on the library. In short order she came to the stairs, smiling she made her way down them.

Her maids had been shocked when she refused the tea and asked for them to set out a simple gown for her. She pushed their hands away when they tried to help, shuffling them out of the room and dressed herself, as was her custom for most days. They returned with breakfast for her and Ilun before leaving again, as was their custom.

I'll ask Mattin to see the letters, maybe there's some hint there, she thought as she arrived, pushing open the doors.

Inside the library was as she remembered it before. ”Help me find Mattin, Ilun,” she said.

The animal lowered his head to the shadow under the table. Isilla stared curiously at him but then he moved ambling down a row of shelves. She followed him deeper into the space as he made turns until he stopped and sat.

She peeked around his large body and there, sitting at a table with a large book open, a pen scratching along it's pages, was Mattin.

She patted Ilun's head, ”Thank you, good boy!”

Isilla crossed to Mattin, reaching for his sleeve to draw his attention.

He turned and smiled at her, ”Princess Isilla! I was not expecting you! Have you finished those books so quickly?”

She shook her head, No, I'm here for another reason. I was wondering if I could see the letters stored here.

”Of course, but I don't know why you would want to, you've already read them,” laughter in his voice as he slid from the chair.

I know, she signed, but there was a food he told me about and I can't remember what it was called. I wanted to see if I could find the name so I could ask my maids for some. She had spent all morning coming up with her story and she hoped it rang as true to the old man. Arren was right, she wasn't very good at lying.

If he noticed he didn't say anything. Instead he nodded and began to walk. ”Was it a sweet food or savory? Oh my we must have so many things here that you're not used to! And you've likely had nothing that reminded you of home at all, how sad!” Mattin said.

It's alright, she signed, I'm not sad.

Mattin smiled as he opened a door, ”You're a very good girl. The Prince is lucky to have you as a wife, so agreeable and kind. I heard what you did for Lady Elixabete. Everyone's heard of it.”

She was upset, desperate, and with child. It would be wrong to try her, I wasn't hurt, she explained.

The old man nodded, ”So kind, she would have killed you without a second thought.”

There was something in his tone, a sort of warning but she sensed no danger in it.

I know, she said, but I am not her.

He let out a small laugh, ”No you are not and I am glad of it. We keep the records here.”

He waved his hand over a large room, Shelves filled with more uniform books lined the walls and in the center tall drawers and tables. Mattin lead her to a table and motioned for her sit. Ilun slid under it, resting his head at her feet, his body taking up the entire space of it.

Mattin walked away and returned with a large book. The old man didn't seem to struggle with it, despite it's unwieldy size. He must have some power, Isilla thought as he laid it on the table in front of her.

”These are all the letters and official documents of the treaty. I'll leave you alone with it, I'll be just outside in the other room if you need anything.”

She nodded and turned back to the book. Alone, she took a deep breath and opened it.

Inside, the book was filled with pockets, each dated in small, neat script. She opened the first one to find a copy of the official agreement for the halt in the war, the start of the peace talks. She slid this back and turned a few pages, pulling out another letter.

This one was hers, she recognized her words but but not the handwriting. These are copies, she thought, scanning the letter, one of the early ones, and placing it back in its spot. She took out the next one, it would be his reply according to the date and found that it was the same handwriting as the other. So the same person was responsible for copying all of these, she noted.

Sighing she flipped through the pages to the later letters. She pulled another out, this one with a wax seal on it. ”Hmm,” she hummed to herself and opened it. The letter inside was addressed to Lehan which meant that she had written it but she frowned at the words. I don't remember saying these things at all. Inside the letter was just as mundane as the earlier ones had been but the contents were completely fabricated, the details for a day that she had never had.

Frowning she placed the letter back in its spot and picked out the one that had come before, this one sealed as well. The letter that she had been replying to. Inside it was as mundane as hers had been and as foreign.

These aren't our letters, she thought. But why would anyone put false ones here?

She placed the sealed one back and flipped the pages. They were all false, even the ones that were unsealed. She flipped back to the start, looking for the first one that she could find that was obviously a forgery. Here's the one where I told him I was a Dreamweaver, that was very early on, and his response but this one isn't right, she thought looking at the one she had written back. She remembered, vaguely, to admitting that she was struggling to write in his language. His response to that had been encouraging and a promise to help her learn.

The letters she looked at now were about dresses from her, and courtly duties from him. Things they had never spoken of but would seem fine, easy conversation, she assumed, for the people of the this court. She scanned each one and from the first false one, none of them were correct. Missing were the through descriptions of the Dark Realm and Acropolis she had sent in return. None of the sweet words of the later letters. It was all boring and bland, peppered throughout with a small fact here and there.

More mysteries, she thought closing the book.

Sighing she stood and left the room, Ilun following behind her. Outside, Mattin sorted through a pile of books, placing them on shelves.

Ilun made a small woof and the librarian turned around. ”Did you find what you were looking for?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded. A tart, she signed, spelling the word out. The answer she had prepared in advance.

”Ah, yes, those are very good. You should have some warm for breakfast!” he replied.

Can I ask you something else?

He nodded, ”Of course. What is it, dear Princess?”