I was so distracted by my thoughts that I’d stopped. Father was nowhere to be seen, he must have gone inside. I tripped on my way up the stairs, forgetting the unevenness of the cobblestone steps in my daze. Our house, humble as ever, was a welcome constant after the day’s events. Looking at it, I remembered that the thatched roof had holes just over my bedroom -- I had to find the time to fix that sooner or later. And the door got stuck far more than usual -- though it was probably just the humidity from the rains. I’d still have to take a look. White parchment against dark, aged wood caught my eye -- a letter lay at my feet. I stooped to take a closer look, and I saw that it bore the seal of Yaanu Crown. Twin waruks, one laughing while the other snarled, crowned by 11 stars impressed in violet wax. While I was pleased that our family received such a high honour, I had no idea what they wanted with us. The letter had no address, but it was likely intended for Father. Still, my curiosity got the better of me. Just as I was about to take my fingernail to the letter, Father’s voice rang out, calling my name. The letter would have to wait; I tucked it in my trousers.

Father sat on a pallet, and gestured for me to join him. He looked sympathetic, “Are you OK?”

I smiled, kneeling beside him, “I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?”

He frowned, “Darling, I’m just checking in,” he said, “After all, that news about the princess was quite frightening!”

“Frightening isn’t the word,” I spoke under my breath.

“Pardon?”

“Nothing,” I said, “What do you think will happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He thought for a moment, “I expect nothing less than war.”

Breath caught in my throat, “War?”

Father waved his hand dismissively, “Yes, yes, of course. What else can the queen do?” he asked, brushing it off like it was nothing, “Anyway, let’s go cook, shall we? It’ll take your mind off that nasty business.”

“I’ve got to feed the animals first,” I choked out.

With the animals fed, I was alone and taskless. The letter burned in my mind and curiosities, so I took it out. And I opened it. It read:

To whom it may concern,

CROWN PRINCESS JIN-HOU HALAKOR II is missing and there is evidence to the fact that the AWANI ROYAL FAMILY is responsible. As such, QUEEN HOU XIUYING has made it clear to them and their dominion that if PR. HALAKOR is not returned safely to Yaanu within a full CYCLE OF THE MOON, Q. XIUYING will declare WAR.

A search party had already been sent to find her and returned with nothing. QUEEN XIUYING asks any that are willing and able to aid the country by travelling to YAANU CROWN and joining the QUEEN’S COMRADERY. The QUEEN’S COMRADERY will set out to find PR. HALAKOR and bring her home safely on the day of the full moon.

All who join will be REWARDED handsomely. Orders await at YAANU PALACE.

Signed,

-Yaanu Palace

Queen Xiuying

“What is that?” 

I jumped, Father had crept up behind me while I was distracted. “I didn’t hear you come up!” I had half a mind to lie, but it was too late. He snatched it from my grasp, scanning the page. His brow furrowed.

“You’re not thinking of going, are you?” His voice was low and the way he spoke made my hair stand on end. His eyes never left the letter.

“Well, I--maybe. I want t-to help,” I shrank, I had never kept anything from him before.

“It’s not our business, darling, and you know you can’t leave the house. This isn’t even a real letter, which only proves my point,” he gave me a pitying look, “This is a forgery.”

“But the seal--” I started

“Isn’t genuine,” he finished, cutting me off, “Yaanu Palace seals are aubergine, this is plum.”

He touched my face, “I’m sorry, Paris, you’re not ready to leave. It’s for your own good.” Father led me back into the house, trying to comfort me. I’d been indoors most of the time for almost as long as I could remember. After my parents died, he’d taken me in -- he was a dear friend of my mother’s. Up until I was eight years old I lived a normal life, but something happened. I can’t recall it, but Father told me I went out one day and didn’t come back. The sky grew ever darker and still I had not returned. He and a few others searched for hours until they found me lying in a heap of snow reddened by my blood. I was bloodied, bruised, and covered in cuts and scratches. Father always told me that it looked like I put up a fight with whatever -- or whoever -- attacked me. They brought me home and they were sure I would die, if not from the blood loss then the deep chill in my body. Against all odds, I survived. And we never found out who or what was responsible. Ever since, Father has kept me under lock and key. Every time I brought up leaving, he’d tell me the story. He’d remind me of his terror, tell me how I might have died if they found me a second later. Eventually, I stopped asking. What else was I supposed to do? However, he assured me that I was getting stronger, faster, and more cunning by the day. Closer to the day I might leave.

In a similar fashion, Father knew best. He was always right when I was growing up. It’s not like it was a surprise -- he was about five decades my senior, so he’d certainly spent his fair share on Ser. He taught me everything I knew, and I could never find something he didn’t know. It was something of a game. I remember spending hours with my nose in a book just trying to find a sliver of information he didn’t know. I never succeeded in my attempts to stump him. In more arbitrary matters, he would always explain to me why he was right. By the time I turned 13, it had been drilled into me that Father was my academic and worldly better. That day, my gut told me otherwise -- I decided to check him. I stood in front of the book shelf, tracing my finger along the worn spines until I found The Encyclopedia of Ser, 1344. The old books protested use with a plume of dust right in my face. I thought I’d cough up a lung. I flipped through the pages until I came upon Yaanu, and immediately my gaze went to the official seal -- it was identical to the letter I received. I was right, but I did not feel a sense of long-awaited satisfaction. In fact, what I felt could only be described as dread.