[The Emperor's Study]

"Yesenia," the Emperor said as he read something off of a book. "Come for your report?"

Yesenia Chamillet, eldest consort of His Majesty, stood before his desk with a grim expression on her face. She donned a plain black dress in mourning of the princess, much like most of the other residents of Wisteria.

The whole Empire was in a state of mourning. Everyone had pulled out their blackest garments from their wardrobes with heavy hearts, matching others in appearance and spirit. Markets had been closed down for the meanwhile, and everyone had shut the windows to their houses. The streets had become deserted and an atmosphere of sorrow had set low over the entirety of the Empire.

Yesenia's keen, watchful eyes swept over the Emperor's majestic robes, brighter than even the decor of his study. The red curtains behind him turned dull to his comparison and the golden tassels that hung below shone not brighter than the Emperor's aura.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Yesenia said crisply as her eyes returned to the Emperor's face. "It's a most dire situation. Lady Virak has stopped speaking altogether."

The Emperor put his book down and raised his eyebrows. His youngest consort, the one who talked the most, to the point it annoyed him to high heavens... had stopped talking? How very strange.

"What has come over the silly girl?" he muttered as he interlaced his fingers, his elbows on his desk. "Is it grief?"

Yesenia wrung her fingers as she stared at the patterned carpet below her feet. "I know not, Your Majesty. She was quite close with the princess before she... erm… passed away."

The Emperor nodded, not quite perturbed by the news. "Fine. If she doesn't start speaking in a day or two, send her to the infirmary. And if she starts displaying any and all sorts of disturbing scenery of laments, report to me straight away. Do you understand?"

Yesenia nodded. "Of course, Your Royal Majesty. As for other news, Lady Obsilia has been discovered developing a tolerance to a certain kind of poison."

"Oh?" The Emperor leaned back in his chair. Elora? The daughter of the famed duke? Building tolerance to poison? For whatever reason must she be doing that? "Which poison?"

Yesenia shuffled uncomfortably in her spot. She didn't like to tattle on the others, but if it meant securing her own position… "Arsenic, it seems."

"Mmm..." The Emperor was equally interested and confused. Why was his beloved mistress so afraid of arsenic; so afraid to the point she's putting her life in danger just to grow immune of it? What a stupid woman. "I see how it is. Anything else to report?"

Yesenia shook her head.

"See yourself out, then, my dear," he said sweetly. Yesenia bowed and gracefully strode outside as the stationed guard opened the door.

When she was gone, the Emperor asked one of his maids that almost merged with the background to call in Sir Gradral. As she curried away with his order, he laid back in his high, wing-backed chair and let him fall into his deep thoughts.

Elora was poisoning herself deliberately? He never understood that weird woman, really. And the moment he let go of her sight, she's get herself into all sorts of shenanigans. He really needed to keep her on a leash. The only thing keeping him from being severe with her was his relations with the grand duke. If only he could...

A moment or two later, Sir Gradral knocked on the door, breaking the Emperor's train of thought. Grungily, he was allowed entry in. Sir Gradral bowed before his Emperor and waited to hear the order to rise.

"Rise, Gradral. Let's get straight to the point," was the Emperor's first sentence of choice. "How is Zyair?"

Sir Gradral didn't even flinch at the Emperor's straight-forwardness. He used to, when he was first stationed by His Majesty's side, but now he was quite used to it.

"He's alive and well, Your Majesty. Though he was slightly weak in the legs, so I had the letter dispatched to his son, Marcello Atraxil, over the border. Thankfully, it wasn't that long a journey by horse. For as far as guesses go, the letter might make its way to King Irvin by a week at most."

"Good." The Emperor nodded. "You didn't read the letter, did you?"

Behind his back, Sir Gradral clenched and unclenched his sweaty palms. Then he shook his head.

"How could I dare, Your Majesty?"

The Emperor nodded, closing his eyes. "I trust you, Gradral. Don't deceive me."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Out of my study, now."

Sir Gradral bowed and turned on his feet, not giving a second glance back as he walked outside. Once in the hall, he looked for a place to sit down, which he found on a lone sofa by one of the many walls. He flopped down and held his head for a few moments, gathering his thoughts before he could go on with his routine.

How could he have said that he had actually read the letter? He would have been removed from his spot immediately.

Sir Gradral was about to get up when a servant boy came running for him. "Sire! Sire, I've got a letter for you!"

Sir Gradral stood up, confused. "A letter for me?" he asked as he took it from the servant boy's hand and turned it around for an address. There was none.

The servant boy nodded. "Yes, a tall black-haired man asked for it to be given directly to you. Don't worry, since it went through inspection at the front. Have a good day, Sire." The boy walked his own path, leaving Sir Gradral alone with an unaddressed letter in his hand.

He proceeded to lift the torn flap and pulled the folded piece of paper out. On it were written three simple words: 'Mother passed away.'

✿

[Back at what once was Ogden Cove]

"Lassie, what's this?"

I was f**cked. I rarely ever swear, but this is a very called for situation. I can't believe I was so careless! Reynard had even reminded me to keep the diary safe, but I had accidentally left it in the hall, right there on the table last night. And just as you guessed it, Mama found out the moment she returned last night.

Which meant I was in big trouble, with a capital 'T'.

Mama smacked her hand on the table, which landed right beside the thick red book.

"I ask once more, eh? What. Is. This?" I mumbled an answer, my head hung. "Whaaaat?" she said, putting a hand to her ear. "I can't hear your lousy excuse, princess."

I can't do this. Ahhh, I just want to disappear. She knows very well what it was, but she still insists on asking me.

"It's a book," I muttered after a while. Mama burst out laughing, but there was not an inch of humor in there.

"A book, eh?" she said, her voice dripping with bitterness. "I wonder what it's about. A story book, is it? Or a recipe listing, perhaps? Oh, what if it's an address book, oh my."

She was ridiculing me. I felt my face grow red with embarrassment as I beared her words, waiting for her to explode on me.

"No, no, I'm sure you had your reasons for snooping around," she said, eyeing me over her specs. "Let's hear it, then."

I stood there, completely motionless, as I thought about what to say. Whatever was there to say? I had been caught because of my own negligence. I regret it all now. But! But if I hadn't done some snooping, I wouldn't have found out such a big secret.

"Well, don't turn on me now, Mama," I said as I stood straight and folded my arms. Mama frowned, clearly not following. "We all keep some secrets, don't we? What do you have to say for yourself? Are you angry that I found out your secret?"

Mama squinted, the wrinkles beside her eyes creasing into themselves. "What in hell's name are you talking about?"

"You can stop pretending, Mama," I sighed, "I've read it from your diary."

She took off her spectacles and massaged her nose bridge. "What's gotten into you? Have you gone a bit loony in the head?"

I laughed. "Mama Ruth, why didn't you tell me something so crucial!? Why didn't you tell me that you were the last descendant of the priestess?"

For a while, everything went silent. Oh. So. Silent. Then Mama started cleaning her specs with the hem of her shirt.

"So that's what this is about," she said as she put on her glasses. "Sven, dear," she called to the kitchen, and at once, Sven peered out. "Bring us some tea, will you? We'll be in my room."

I glanced nervously at Sven and he made a furtive expression as if to say, 'What's happened?' I shrugged and followed Mama Ruth inside her room, bracing myself for the worst lecture of my life.

"Take a seat," Mama said as she pushed the ottoman towards me with her foot, sitting down on the armchair opposite.. "Let's talk."