Chapter 13 Thorny Path

Even though dad and I have made up, for some reason he’s been shut in his office for even longer sun-ticks these days… Well, at least he joins me for all three meals in the dining hall. At first, we were so stiff and awkward around one another that I almost came to dread dinnertime… What a distressing thought.

Now though, he goes out of his way to talk about matters of the estate and his affairs in work. Along with philosophy, politics, and current events, I’ve come to enjoy the intellectual conversations we have over meals.

Hmn, but are these really topics meant for parent and child? I wonder, tilting my head.

Well, no matter.

It’s because dad understands my resolve, that he now guides me in my pursuit of knowledge!

Pointing out small details and real-life applications here and there, I can begin to see a gradual shift in my way of thinking. Particularly, my intuition. There’s just some things you can only know through experience and by reading in between the lines.

After lessons and lunch, I walk into mom’s study - it basically being my own office now though. Presently, almost everything is organized!

I proudly huff in approval. Flowers and trinkets from the Fairfolk line itself neatly on the shelves. The hearth warmly glowing in harmony with the light and shadows dancing from my reading lantern.

Currently in the heart of winter, Nara and the Flower Faeries are deep in hibernation. All the Winter Faeries and other Unseelie Fairfolk are busy preparing for the upcoming Winter Solstice as well. So I have nothing to do lately but read.

It was a huge blow when mom’s diary turned to nothing more than kindle. Luckily, she kept many of her letters, so I manage to piece together her life before me in bits and pieces.

Sometimes, her words will remind me of the warm and loving, klutzy, yet competent person I knew. Sometimes, I will be at a complete loss at just how little I really knew her. Mischievous and cunning, unpredictable to a calculated degree… In my memory, these weren't descriptions that would ever come to mind.

Yet, here I am. Thinking about such things after finding a notebook buried underneath mounds of dust.

At first glance, it would resemble any common ledger, containing balance sheets, tax details, and customer information. Something trivial in a run-of-the-mill, family owned business.

But well… The Newlyns and mom’s side of the family - the Estelias - don’t have a family business. Or even a remote connection to such a thing. Dad working for the royal family restricts us in owning or funding commercial enterprise, because it could potentially cause a conflict of interest.

So now then, why did mom have such a thing?

I go over it again, double-checking and making sure.

Yeah… It’s unmistakably her handwriting, not only that, but it’s carefully kept with flawless mathematics littering every account.

The inconsistency tumbling uncomfortably in my mind, I begin by picking out words or names that stick out. A few sun-ticks of stagnation pass by before I remember… Mom’s book on ciphers!

Quickly digging it out of a box labelled “Miscellaneous”, I flip it open and begin the process anew. Cryptograms, anagrams, play-on-words, puzzles, riddles - I as many things as I can think of.

Over and over, things seem as if they’re going in the right direction... Only to not make sense a few pages later. Traces I pick up and follow only lead to dead ends. It’s as if strings are left going this direction and that, meant only to purposely entangle you.

Interweaving and ensnaring, a shadow of doubt casts over me.

Mom…?

An indescribable feeling grips me.

I scrunch another parchment up and feed it into the fireplace. Just what were you doing?