Don’t Take Life Too Seriously; Things Might be Looking Up

Having skipped lunch, it went without saying that a tea party followed our village adventures, replete with all the snacks that have come to define Amillia’s character. Still, it seemed appropriate, considering the present company, and even I looked forward to the garden side distraction. With Lucial in attendance, the conversation was sure to be far more edifying than the errant musings of a ten-year-old child.

Unfortunately, my mood soured early on when Sistilla decided to grace us with her presence, sweeping in with the whimsy I'd come to expect from her mother. I don’t usually mind. To the contrary, her visits are a welcome reprieve from Amillia’s monopolization. However, what I did mind was the consumption of the third piece of velvet confectionery delight. I directed my scowl her way, though she failed to notice.

Amillia, having some notion of decorum, had welcomed her guest, serving, alongside the other refreshments, three pieces of chocolate. I was certain she had brought one for each of us—the attendants having left us to our own devices while they went off and did… whatever attendants do. Imagine my dismay when Sistilla dropped in and, without hesitation, grabbed the remaining candy and tossed it in her mouth, barely taking time to unwrap it. Minus 1, Sistilla.

At least, with two grown ass women present, I could count on some sensical dialogue while I worked out my bitterness.

"I'm glad you are here, Lucial." Sistilla threw an arm around Lucial, in a clear departure from tea party decorum. "Will you be staying here until your marriage? Perhaps even longer?"

"Hopefully the latter, but there is no telling..." Her eyes dipped as she spoke. "Vaas seems to be a whimsical sort, so who knows. I could end up in the Gelcic Republic, though at least I would be out from my father's thumb."

"I understand." She patted her back. "Fathers can be demanding. We had quite the feud when it came to Prince Orland."

Lucial looked up. "You fought about marrying my brother? I thought you were quite fond of each other?"

"We are NOW. But before I knew him, Father decreed that I needed to perform my duties and serve my role as daughter of House Uvald and yadi yada." She waved off the notion.

"But you eventually acquiesced."

"I did not acquiesce!" Sistilla straightened like an angry cat. "I only agreed to meet with him!"

"I remember that. It was surprising to see you so happy. Most women aren't impressed by my brother's manner..."

"What's wrong with his manner? I find him endearing." A twinkle appeared in her eye.

"Well, nothing in my opinion, but I have heard, on more than one occasion, him referred to as my father's other daughter."

"He is just in touch with his feminine side. It's charming." She pressed her hands to her chest. If her enamored smile was any indicator, she must really be smitten. "He is also completely supportive of my way of life. Even Father was forced to let up on his criticism of my chosen occupation."

"Well, I'm glad it worked out in your case..." She forced a smile, but only managed to look even sadder.

"Will it, though?" Sistilla said through pursed lips while forcibly tucking her hands into her pockets. "I feel like I might not be up to fulfilling my wifely duties." Wifely duties? What wifely duties? I'm pretty sure as a highborn lady, the only duty you have is to get knocked up—preferably by your husband. However, I wasn’t about to air my thoughts, and I had other questions besides.

"So am I to understand that you are marrying each other's brothers?" I traded glances with both of them. "Isn't that a bit... strange?"

"Hmm..." Sistilla put a finger to her lips. "It is uncommon, but I wouldn't say it is strange." My look requested additional information. "It's an accepted practice for creating a strong bond between two families." So it's like a double chemical bond? "It is usually used to merge two Houses into one." So, it's like a corporate merger. "It doesn't happen too often because it causes quite the shakeup, but what emerges is usually a force to be reckoned with." So merge and then destroy the competition. Guess some things never change.

"I see..." I said, rubbing my chin. "It looks like Sistilla got the better end of the deal though..." I looked up. Maybe I shouldn't have said that.

"Well..." Sistilla crossed her arms with a troubled look."My brother is a bit..." The loading wheel spun as she searched for the words.

"He only dances with those who dance the same steps!" Amillia interjected.

"Amillia!" Came Sistilla's uncharacteristic reprimand.

Amillia shrank back. "But that is what the maid servants say..."

Only dance with those who dance the same—Ohhh, I see... Lucial was more crestfallen than ever. Yep, she definitely drew the short straw.

"I'm sure it will be okay, Lucial." Sistilla offered her token reassurances, placing a comforting hand on her back. "Maybe you could take a lover. I'm sure my brother wouldn't mind," she said, then added under her breath, "it would probably come as a relief." Her words came as no comfort.

"Lucial, your Sigilry is incredible!" Amillia said, once again, from out of left field, but not at all an unwelcome reprieve. "It was so beautiful!" Lucial flushed a little, her mind drawn away from the previous conversation.

"Well, Amillia," Sistilla said, raising her chin and pushing out her chest. "Stilla is actually a very accomplished scribe. I would put her against any of the Magocracy's Rune Smiths." Lucial's blush deepened, but a timid smile began to spread across her face.

"Wow! That's amazing!" Amillia stood in awe. "Can you teach me?" Amillia? Asking to be taught? Well, that was a first.

"Teach you?" She met Amillia's intense stare. "Are you sure you want to learn? Scribing is a difficult practice. It requires a steady hand and a deep understanding of not only runes and their interactions, but also science and even mathematics." I thought that would douse Amillia's passion, but her wall of ignorance remained structurally sound. "Of course, you could just memorize a handful of sigils, but even then you would still need a steady hand and a good memory."

"I want to learn!" Amillia reasserted. I second that notion. Magic was the scientific study I never knew I needed, and even though this collar would probably prevent me from using this "Sigilry," I would still find the study fascinating, and it would serve well for when I finally got it off.

Amillia's words were met with a warm smile. "Okay, Amillia. I will teach you. I will talk with your father about working it into your schedule." Excellent, I would look forward to it.

"Speaking of sigilry..." She turned to Sistilla. "You are still in the guild, I take it?"

"Of course! The Adventurers' guild is for life!" She gestured, punching the closed fist of one hand into the open palm of the other twice and then raising them together as she bowed her head.

"I'm surprised your father still allows it."

"He doesn't exactly 'allow' it, but I've put my foot down. I'm my own woman; he can take it or leave it." She stepped a leg onto her chair as a charming rogue might. Unladylike, but it seemed to fit.

"I admire your stalwartness," Lucial commented. "What rank are you now?"

"I got promoted to Veteran last year." Her face glowed with pride.

"Veteran... If I remember correctly, that is a fairly high rank."

"It is about mid-tier, but most never reach it. There are still several higher ranks, though." She fidgeted with her hair. "It gives me something to work towards. I hope to be a Master someday..."

"What do you have to do to become a Master?"

"There is a system. It's kind of complicated to the uninitiated." She flashed an apologetic smile. "But it would involve taking on more difficult assignments."

"Oh. Sounds exciting." Going by her tone, Lucial's interest was genuine. Her gaze pleaded for more.

"Yeah, it is! Like that time..." Sistilla went off on tales of her exploits. They sounded fantastical, and I wasn't sure if they were factual or if she had a fancy for embellishment. If they were accurate, I could see why Conroy disapproved.

__________________________________________________

“Damn it all!” I had once again failed to slick down a rogue strand. Ever since Valarina had cursed me with this mirror—well, I suppose before as well, I was just blissfully ignorant—my purple locks had given me no end of trouble. It started with that non-egalitarian hair distribution—I always aim for symmetrical. Easily rectifiable with a mirror, and I no longer looked like some neo-hipster. However, the mirror had brought an even more concerning issue to my attention; I had a cowlick! And a stubborn one at that.

I could keep it down when my hair was completely soaked, but once it even got halfway dry, it sprang up like an unemployed basement dweller on a Reddit forum. I was half tempted to use a gel or grease, but I was loath to do so. One, because who would choose to rub grease into their hair? Don't people usually wash that out? And second, because that was something a rich noble would do, and I didn't want to emulate their tacky fashion sense—you should see them on special occasions.

Of course, this wouldn't be a problem if I went with my standard disordered hairstyle, but I didn't want to tempt the hand of Mimka—I still ducked into side hallways whenever I saw her coming.

“There! I think that’s it…” It popped back up. “Damnit!” I grabbed the bottom of the mirror and flung it. I almost immediately regretted my decision until I found the mirror spun freely with no apparent strain on the frame. It must have been well balanced—that’s old-fashioned craftsmanship for you.

It whirled around on surprisingly well-greased hinges. Entranced, I watched as it petered to rest, but jumped back, stumbling yet maintaining my footing. On one side of the mirror, words had materialized and covered the length of the reflective surface. I stared, dumbfounded. Well, this was something. It appeared I had stumbled upon a secret inscription.

[Beginning of text]

[3-1-7-101,254]
Where are you? It has been several days. Why have you not reported?

[2-2-7-101,254]
Here it is! Sorry, it would seem Valarina moved the mirror, and there is a lot of house to look through. Left it in an inconvenient place as well.

Princess Lucial arrived just yesterday, and security has been adjusted accordingly. They have not employed additional manpower, just moved it around. So security is weaker in other aspects.

Regarding the main matter, I have gathered more intel on the eldest son. I should think it quite damning. The documents have been left in the usual place.

[2-2-7-101,254]
Thank you. We will send someone to retrieve the drop. Regardless, be prepared to implement plan B. It has become increasingly clear that the King does not like his authority undermined, and his daughter's disapproval of the marriage has only given Lelemier more reason to push forward, despite the "baggage" that Vaas brings to the table. To this end, we will be leaving something that might be useful in the stash when we make the pickup.

[End of text]

Well, that was less ancient arcane text and more secret correspondence. It seemed we had a spy in our midst. Certainly, Conroy would greatly appreciate my bringing this to his attention. But would that benefit me? It might elevate Conroy's opinion of me. But does that matter? And how much would his evaluation of me rise? What was a demonstration of loyalty worth? If it got him to remove this collar, I would disclose it in a heartbeat. However, I doubted it would move the needle much.

On the other hand, if I pretended I had never seen this, I would have a source of intel that even Conroy wouldn't have access to. There is also the adage that the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The Uvalds might not consider me an enemy, but the inverse wasn’t true—at least with regard to Conroy; Amillia was still too young for me to consider an enemy.

But they did seem to have it in for Princess Lucial, and my opinion of her wasn't unfavorable. Still, this mirror harbored a potential font of intel and reconnaissance. I couldn't just give it up. If things elevated to a point where I felt uncomfortable, I could always hand it over then. In the meantime, I had acquired a substantial windfall.

True to my prediction, the mirror was a treasure trove of information, some useful, some not as much, but still interesting. My nightly mirror checks became a highlight of my day. While most of what was said probably wouldn't help me escape—unless I found a way to blackmail Conroy with it somehow—it did reveal some inside information, and I enjoyed being privy to information I shouldn't have.

At first, I would check in on the mirror several times a day, finding excuses to slip away from Amillia, but found there were often no messages. Thinking, it made sense. The spy wouldn't want to be seen sending messages, and hanging around my room would probably drive them away. I decided to stay away during the day to give the agent time to work. A small part of me desired to unmask this infiltrator, but I couldn’t risk being found out, and it might be better if I didn't know—I would probably start acting differently around that person.

[4-2-7-101,254]
We have received the documents, and the accusation will definitely give Lelemier pause. More than that, we cannot say. Our agents will present this information in the worst possible light for Vaas.

[6-2-7-101,254]
It's not looking good. The King is stubborn. We can't push too hard, as this will only cause him to dig in deeper. It's been decided to let the information stew a bit before bringing it up again.

[7-2-7-101,254]
Conroy has been suffering from a stomachache, and the maids have been complaining about the contents of his chamber pot. He has been receiving medical advice, and it seems he will be just fine. The rest of the family appears unaffected.

[10-2-7-101,254]
The sabotage has failed. It appears nothing short of high treason will deter Lelemier’s decision. We are invoking plan B. Stand ready to assist.

[11-2-7-101,254]
I will begin looking into possibilities, but is there really no other way? Brogan will soon be returning from assignment, and it will make things... difficult.

[11-2-7-101,254]
We are familiar with Brogan's proficiency. Can we enact the plan before his return?

[1-3-7-101,254]
I doubt it. The kitchen staff is very paranoid about the food they serve, as it will be their heads if something happens. It will take time to arrange something that won't give us away.

[1-3-7-101,254]
Understood. As per your request, the stash has been moved in expectation of breaking new ground for farmland. Refer to the map below for directions.

My eyebrows flashed at this last statement. A map to the stash location. What could they be hiding in there? If they were tools for a spy, I could put them to good use. Also, I remember they had placed something useful with regard to plan B. Plan B didn't sound like a peaceful method. It might be a good idea to get the jump on them and see this item for myself.