Silver hair slightly brushed the floor, trailing closely behind my footsteps while I hurriedly climbed in the first floor window like that of a stray cat. Silently creeping onto the wide front staircase, I hugged the right side of the rails. Dashing swiftly under shadows and bright moonlight that seeped through the windows, trying at all costs to avoid the attention of any servant strolling through the late hours.

A maid in the middle of the hall paced back and forth, muttering under her breath with visible frustration. Probably complaining about the shift hours once again that were recently raised and assigned. After a few minutes she descended down the opposite stairs, allowing me to dart quickly towards my sleeping chambers.

In just a few hours it will be morning and I will have to be woken by Miss Lamor for morning classes. Quite boring. I slipped into my sleeping attire and shoved what I was previously wearing into the pillow covers to conceal. Now all that’s left was to sleep peacefully. In sweet normality.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” I sprung right up like a flat-board, holding the covers over my head.“Why so early?” I groaned.

“Early? It is nearly noon, lady Eilanya.” A monotone voice said, coming from the brunette head-maid that stood in front of me with her usual bored look. With a traditional english blue dress and black-framed glasses, she stood with an intimidating aura.

“Oh my. It seems like you didn’t get enough sleep my lady.” Miss Lamor brought her hand up to her mouth without changing her tone, feigning to be shocked. “I recall hearing a message from the guards that they chased four suspicious individuals late into the night. I don’t suppose you heard anything of the sort last night?” Miss Lamor asked in sarcastic fashion while crossing her arms and for the first time today, opening her eyes to stare daggers into me.

“Hm? I was soundly asleep even before dinner was served.” Lying as normally as I breathe. “I do try and get plenty of rest for everyday lessons after all, I cannot seem to recall anything of that nature.” I glanced up to see the bored expression that rested upon her face. Safe.

Changing from my light-violet nightgown to a white formal tunic every morning was very tiresome. It especially made it very uncomfortable when tightened with a velvet silk fabric around my waist. The necessity of this seems to undermine the uses. It’s suffocating. I will live and die in this dress.

Dressing up just to appease to the image mother held as standard is becoming unbearable. I just wanted to be nothing extraordinary or extravagant but, I’m always being burdened with matters that do not interest me at all.

My name is Eilanya Lavisellion. The second princess of Mistorr. The princess who was thrown away and made an outcast into the city of Toukil. A disgrace is what I am. To my mother, father, sister, brother! The lot of them, tossing me without hesitancy into the shark riddled ocean equipped with only a punctured net and chipped spear. I shall live, only for the day I returned.

Upon getting ready, Miss Lamor guided me down the hall to the chancery. The halls were riddled with expensive art and pottery, on full display without a case to protect it, showing anyone who walked by that money will never be an issue.

After a few minutes, we stopped in front of a newly refined red oak door. Miss Lamor proceeded to reach into her robe, pulling out a large brass key.

“The documents have already been placed onto your desk.” She said, opening the door to let me in.

“Ah yes.” Annoyed by the daily routines. “Leave the door open on your way out, I do not wish to hear the sounds of knocking every half hour.”

Walking into the room was almost a portal in itself. The old-fashioned book places and faded blue walls matched with nothing else inside the sleek, obvious extravagance that it exuberantly displayed throughout the rest of the house.

The only picture that was inside the room was displayed on my desk, faced-down.

First objective of the morning was to listen about the Toukil business affairs. Port trading and merchant agreements were what kept this place from sinking into deprivation and poverty. Our town was a poor staple of what a ‘port city’ should be, with our primary monetary-agreements being with the savage-populated lands across the sea.

The salty scent of the ocean whisked into the room, carried by lost breezes through the open veranda. The lilac curtains flew with each gust, making it out to be a cold, chilly day.

Picking up a quill pen, I began to sign my name onto the bottom of documents that favored nobles’ status between disputes held with the common people. The familiar footsteps of swift walking became apparent to my ear.

Mister Rezzar, the wealthiest merchant in Toukil, strolled his snub self into the room dressed in an azure blazer and matching trousers. Keeping his signature slicked back, short black-hair where it never seemed to lose shine. Bearing the hand of gold on his breast pocket, he was indeed a powerful man in the realm. However, his appearance did truly amuse me, with times like these being unable to contain my laughter. Grinning would get the best of me during meetings of such affairs, having me scolded dreadfully by Miss Lamor.

Mister Rezzar came in every morning at the exact same time promptly, reading a stack of documents on recent agreements made, without ever seeming to catch his breath.

“Mrs. Heshly has requested that we waive the fee for the death of a commoner who died within her garden.”

“Does the deceased have any family of sorts?”

“A son, attending the academy for promising students.”

“So the child can walk, yes? Waive the fee.”

The old man smirked, twirling the curls of his mustache. He flipped onto the next document, his face visibly sinking down his face.

He cleared his throat, letting out a dry cough.

“I would like to address the Minchelli export deal.” Rezzar said, adjusting his thin glass frames and unfolding a sealed parchment. “The main house requests a fresh supply of imported bread and pastries to be delivered in two months from now.”

“What for?” I questioned, straightening my back with my interest piqued. “How much are they asking for?”

“Well…” Rezzar said with an unusual amount of low confidence, letting out another dry cough. “They are asking for five hundred loa-“

“Five hundred?!” I yelled, slamming my hands on the desk, angrily rising from the chair. “That’s outrageous! It will take more than a small span of two months to procure that amount of goods ready for horseback.” Fuming from the thought of such an obvious malicious order, gave me a clear idea of who the culprit could be. “Who’s requesting it?” Staring at the sweat drenched Rezzar standing in the middle of the room.

“Well, you see lady Eilanya.” Rezzar’s voice grew steady. “It was the Royal Queen, your mother.”

“…what?”

Why? It can’t be. Why? It’s not real. Why? Why now? Without a letter or… hell even a damn farewell all those years ago.

I sat back down, straightening my back once more. A heavy breeze blew into the room, making the curtains flow just in sight of my peripheral vision.

“I refuse.”

“Ok. I’ll speak to the local bakeries and let them kn—” Mister Rezzar stopped half way through the doorway, dumbstruck. “Did you say you refuse?”

“Correct.” I said without wavering. “We will not become a lap dog to that corrupted filled ‘golden’ household they claim it to be. Send back a letter. A blank letter. Stamped with the official house seal, I send my regards.”

His arms went limp, scattering the dozens of trade documents over the floor.

“This is mad.” He muttered. Lifelessly kneeling down to pick up the important papers. After all was done, he continued his mutturing out into the hall, getting noticeably louder. “She has gone mad. The lady has gone mad. It’s no use. She has lost her bloody senses!”

I looked down to read over the local export list that was bound for Fergolli, the town in the district to the west.

“What are you planning lady Eilanya?” A familiar voice questioned, a girl appearing in the doorway. She stood tall with her medium frame in light-battle armor and amber hair in a high ponytail, usually uniform for the female knights of the realm. My personal attendant.

“Me? Nothing at all Miss Kelsi. I just rejected the absurd claims that were brought to my attention.” I continued to write, staring at the papers laid in front of me as I spoke.

“The highness will never allow you to reject a proposal. Especially one that was directly sent. I figured you were dumb, but I have never once thought of you as foolish as I did now.”

“You don’t get it.” I muttered.

“What?”

“I refuse to believe such a letter was from the woman who birthed me. If such an outlandish claim was to be requested, she could have sent her personal envoy! Or better yet… arrive here herself.”

“…” She [Kelsi] stood still, motion and expressionless in the doorway.

“Miss Kelsi, say something or leave. I wish to continue my work without distractions.” I clenched the quill tightly, hearing slight creaks.

“As you request.” Kelsi bowed obediently, taking her leave momentarily after.

A heavy silence filled the air with only the light tapping of my quill hitting the desk in the empty room I sat in.

And just like that, I am alone once more.

After half an hour, the door began to creak open once more, revealing Kelsi in a more simplistic attire. With a black cowl and cloak draped over her shoulders, down to her feet in robe-like fashion. She walked straight towards me, laying the same colored garments in front of me. I looked up to the same calm expression, ever unchanging.

“I am here, milady.” Kelsi said, interlocking her hands in front of her.

“So it seems. Indeed… so it seems.” I grinned.