The Steel Princess

Chapter 14: Elves And Empires

Returning to sleep proved impossible, as Skye had known it would. By the time she'd bathed, most of the courtiers had adjourned to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, whilst the guards did another sweep of the castle in search of Nocturnes. They wouldn't find any, Skye knew, though at least they could block up a few more previously forgotten tunnels and clear up the bodies she'd left behind. And she still couldn't rest easy; the Nocturnes might be thwarted, but what of the rest? Helida and the Empire, Varren and Perityr, Beatriz and her bloody prophecy? The whole world seemed to be conspiring against her.

It didn't help that the Kadvalaers remained stony. Auda went back to her quarters, the brief rush of excitement giving way to her previous sullenness. She was still furious over her parents' exile and her wayward charge – and perhaps her nose – but Skye couldn't bring herself to apologise for any of it. The elder Kadvalaers had been remiss in their duties, and at least they'd only been exiled; Skye, meanwhile, wasn't about to lock herself in her room to keep Auda happy. And Josselyn... He'd been on duty for a day and a night, but seemed tireless, returning to his station in the anteroom with uncomplaining stoicism.

In the end, Skye called for food for them both, and a pot of Imaldran coffee. The kitchen staff didn't really know what to do with the stuff, but they kept a supply for visiting dignitaries; she intended to make good use of it.

After she'd eaten – and persuaded Josselyn to eat, on-duty or not – Skye finally turned to the stack of correspondence she hadn't touched in days. She had a servant read them to her, as if she was too busy sipping her coffee and not simply too exhausted to pore over symbols that made no sense. There were two letters from the Conclave, a coded one from Teacher asking after her welfare, and a note from Marcelo that was all gossip, but made her smile nonetheless. The rest were from dukes trying to get into her good graces, the royal seamstress who wanted to measure her for gowns, and finally her father's personal secretary.

"I need to get myself one of those," she mused, as the servant read out the sender's name and title.

The boy looked up, startled to find himself addressed. "Your M-Majesty?"

Skye grimaced. "Not yet, and at this rate I never will be. Just read it."

The letter proved to be about her father's paperwork, all the little odds and ends that weren't connected to the Council. The secretary wanted to know what to do with it all, and whether the princess would like to peruse it herself, at her earliest convenience. That sounded deathly tedious, but might also be useful. What little nuggets of information might be hiding in her father's papers, things few others in the castle were privy to?

Still, she hesitated, knowing she'd once again have to enlist help if she was to read it all. That would have to be Josselyn, she supposed, who'd heard every word of the servant's reading, anyway. At least he seemed to like words, so it wouldn't be much of a chore.

She dismissed the servant and set off, Josselyn at her heel. It was strange to be going to her father's rooms, a part of the castle she'd assiduously avoided since returning home. It had been a relief to be housed in the guest rooms, where she didn't have to look at items so familiar they made her chest ache. It ached now, as she stood outside her father's door. It was still guarded, even now, but by a single man rather than the whole retinue that used to watch this corridor. Skye nodded to him and went inside.

Much of the furniture had been covered, the bedding removed and the rugs rolled up, leaving an echoing shell of a room. The only thing untouched was the desk beneath the window, though that was still far tidier than any of Skye's possessions. There were neat stacks of paper, rolls shoved into cubbyholes, and a single leather-bound book. The latter, she picked up, scrutinising the spine and half expecting Josselyn to rush forward and take it from her. He didn't, and with her eyes screwed up, she could just about read it.