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The sun was retiring, and soon to be replaced by the moon for the night. There was the quiet crackle from the fireplace as you placed your quill down next to the lit candle on the table. In the past, you’d loved the smell of books and parchment in the study of castle Dimitrescu. This had been an enjoyable place to be. Now, you weren’t quite sure. It wasn’t that you didn’t love this space with its bookshelves stuffed full, the large and comfortable furniture, and the person who summoned you here. You worked here almost every day, and you enjoyed it. But once a week, without a doubt, there would be a time when you hated your job as the queen’s scribe. Right now was one of those times.
The neatly drafted love letter stared back at you, and you noticed pain in your jaw. You’d been clenching your teeth all the while your hand glided across the page, transcribing each word that the queen spoke to you in private. It had been hard to focus when you had to listen to her speak her flowery words of longing for someone else. Your eyes would follow the path of ink on parchment, willing it to burn every word away. It irked you to know that your queen was in love with someone. Someone who had not written her a single reply after receiving 51 letters. This would be the 52nd.
Just who was this fool—this bastard who ignored your queen?
Queen Alcina watched you from her seat behind the desk as you methodically folded up the letter after the ink had dried. Placing it on the large rosewood table, you dripped black wax onto the envelope, and the queen pressed her signet ring into the wax. A beautiful seal with the Dimitrescu crest is created.
‘Thank you, dear,’ she said, eyes trained on you and ignoring the letter on the desk in front of her.
You bowed your head in acknowledgement and respect. ‘Of course, my queen.’
‘It is a shame that you had to work in the archives before I plucked you to become my scribe.’
Keeping your eyes on the floor, you say, ‘I am grateful.’
And you were, deeply and truly grateful. Beginning your services as a young child, you had spent the majority of your life hiding away in the archives, dusting the shelves, cataloguing books and scrolls, and being forced to do the archivists’ dirty laundry.
‘Tell me, am I keeping you here against your will?’ she asked.
You glanced up and met the queen’s golden eyes. ‘No, of course not.’
‘And you’re not just saying that to please me?’
‘It is the truth. I would have ended up living out my days doing menial tasks in the archives if you didn’t—as you say—pluck me to be your scribe. I much prefer being with y—doing this than growing mouldy in the dark. Please, believe me.’
‘I believe you.’ She smiled faintly and reached for her goblet of wine. ‘I chose you for your truthfulness after all.’
You tilted your head in question, and you saw that her smile widened a little.
‘The missive that was to be delivered to me had been accessed by the senior archivist,’ she said. ‘You reported that to me directly even when the guards tried to drag you away. You even brought me the letter.’
You remembered the incident from about seven years ago as if it had just happened recently. As you were about to return to the shared living quarters one night, you had noticed the senior archivist tampering with a seal on a letter. The archivist had told you that the seal was damaged, and that they were fixing it in the case that someone other than the queen would read the message. Did he honestly think you were that stupid? He probably did since he then tasked you to deliver the letter to an apprentice of his.
Instead of telling the guards and handing the letter off to them who would pass it onto the queen, you had decided it was more important to tell her yourself. After all, you didn’t know who could be trusted here.
‘I was lucky that you exited the room when you did,’ you said. You did not mention how lucky you were that she was also an understanding person who didn’t punish you for your behaviour of arguing with the guards and causing a scene outside of her throne room.
‘I’d like to believe it was fate,’ Alcina said.
You smiled. ‘As you say.’
‘Do you remember what you told me that day?’
‘I’m unsure of what you’re referring to…’
‘When I asked you why you deemed it so important to tell me personally, when I questioned you and reminded you that the senior archivist could have you dismissed from the archives for suspecting him.’
‘Ah, yes. You were trying to ascertain my motives, trying to figure out what I had to gain from my actions.’
‘Yes, and your answer?’ She took a sip of wine from her goblet.
‘I think my answer had been something along the lines of, “My loyalty is with you and your kingdom not the senior archivist”.’
‘And that is why you became my personal scribe, Dear.’
For such a simple reason, you thought. ‘I could have lied.’
You were always conflicted when you spoke to the queen. She had on occasion asked for you to speak informally to her when in private, and you tried, you really did, the queen had asked after all. But it was difficult when your brain would automatically default to formal speech. This constant battle created a pendulum effect where you would bounce back and forth from formal to informal speech whenever you remembered to flip the switch. Thankfully, the queen didn’t seem to mind.
‘You didn’t,’ Alcina said. ‘The results of previous investigations pointed to the senior archivist being part of the rebellion. We simply didn’t have enough evidence to act yet.’
‘Or you were keeping him around for other reasons.’
The corner of her lips curved up into a smirk.
You had suspected that she got rid of the archivist to protect you. If the archivist was left alone to pass on the information that you had witnessed the tampering of the letter’s seal, you’d be in great trouble with the rebellion. If you were the archivist, you’d have ordered the witness to be disposed of. It only made sense. But then again, if you were the archivist, you wouldn’t have been so foolish in the first place.
‘I should thank fate for how things played out,’ you said. ‘And thank you for listening to me.’ Thinking back on it now, you were acting suspicious yourself with how you kept telling the guards that you had a message for the queen but couldn’t tell anyone other than Alcina what it was.
‘You do not know how difficult it is to find those who are as loyal as you are to the kingdom,’ Alcina said.
‘This could all be an act to get closer to you.’
‘They do say to keep your enemies closer than your friends.’
‘Should I become your enemy, then?’ You snapped your mouth shut when you realised what you had just said.
‘Only if you wish for an early death.’
‘No, thank you.’
Alcina chuckled. ‘I’ve had you as my scribe for about seven years now, haven’t I?’
‘Yes, I believe so.’ It didn’t feel that long to you.
‘You’ve never taken any days off except for when you were physically ill.’
‘There’s nothing else for me to do. I enjoy my work.’ Except for when I have to write these letters to the person who’s taken up your heart and mind, you thought. Writing the letters, hearing your queen craft such beautiful sentences for another had been disappointing, frustrating, upsetting, and painful.
‘You will take a few weeks off, my little scribe.’
You blinked. ‘There’s really no need. I—’
‘This was the last letter addressed to that person to be written by you. I never did get a reply.’ She smiled sadly. ‘But maybe this time I will. I can’t make it more obvious than this.’ She tapped the love letter.
You stare at the letter she had tapped. It was none of your business whether your queen received a reply to her letters, so you never asked, but she knew of your curiosity and would always be kind enough to let you know of the progress without you speaking. The wax of the seal gleamed under the candlelight. Who’s the asshole who never replied to her? you wonder and inwardly seethe.
‘Cindr will take over your responsibilities until you return,’ Alcina said, reaching for a different letter that had been sitting on her desk. The wax that sealed it was black. Alcina used red wax most of the time. You’d only seen Alcina use black wax for correspondence to the person she was pining for as well as members of her family. Nobody else. She handed you the letter, and you receive it with both hands as you thanked her.
Your mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. You couldn’t question your queen about the seal even if your relationship would allow you to survive such a thing. Alcina didn’t mind your questions most of the time, but the serious look on her face wiped away that possible option in your mind today. Instead of asking, you frowned at the black wax. Your troubled expression seemed to soften her eyes, but you were probably just imagining things. You had to stop thinking so highly of yourself. You were only a scribe.
‘That letter is yours,’ Alcina said, then she slid the love letter towards you on the desk. ‘Hand this to Petra.’
Holding both letters in your hands, you nodded. ‘Understood.’
‘You are dismissed, little one.’
‘Yes, my queen,’ you said with a bow.
#
You were outside, by the stables, when you bumped into Petra. This would save you a trip inside the messengers’ tower to hand off the letter. You weren’t far away from the tower, but this would still save you a couple of minutes, and trudging up several flights of stairs.
Petra told you about the new experimental stew that the cooks would be serving tonight as you handed the love letter to her, and she put it away in her satchel.
‘Experimental stew?’ Your brows pinched together.
‘I caught them muttering about putting fruits in it when I passed by the kitchens,’ Petra said.
‘So it’s a fruit stew?’ You heard hooves clopping from the side as a messenger rode a horse to the gates.
Petra shrugged. ‘Hell if I know. Try it and tell me if it’s good.’
‘I’m not sure if I want to try a fruit stew… why couldn’t they just make a normal stew? I was looking forward to it.’
‘Hey, the fruit stew could be good.’
‘Remember the experimental roast chicken? Where they tried to roast it inside cake batter? And then they put cream on it?’
Petra shuddered. ‘Nightmare.’
You sighed. The stew you’d looked forward to every week had been taken off the menu and replaced with the fruity version. Why was everything changing in a way that you didn’t like?
#
It was late night when you returned to your quarters. Surprisingly, the fruit stew hadn’t been bad. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good. It was just different. You didn’t enjoy it as much as the normal stew, but maybe it would grow on you later.
When you entered your small room, you noticed a box that had not been on your desk when you’d left early this morning. Your room consisted of a simple bed, a desk and chair, and a small wardrobe. There were two small crates of books—all gifts from friends, family, and mostly from the queen—to the side of your desk. Alcina had offered you to relocate to a larger space that was better furnished, but you had declined, not wanting to bring unnecessary attention and possibly unsavoury rumours to yourself. It was hard to miss the box that sat on your desk when it looked so extravagant and out of place here.
You ran your hands over the intricate carvings in the dark wood of the box. The silver clasp was cold under your fingertips. Sighing, you considered leaving it till the morning. It was late and you were tired. Then you remembered that during your meal you had broken the black seal on your letter from the queen. The letter stated that you were officially on vacation starting tomorrow. Three weeks… why did she give me such a long break? you wondered. Delaying sleep for several minutes more would be fine since you didn’t need to wake up at the crack of dawn the next day.
You lifted the lid of the box. It opened smoothly and without a sound from its hinges. Letters slotted closely together stood within the box. They were snug as if the box was designed to hold this exact amount. There was a piece of card sitting on top of the letters. The card had your name written in beautiful calligraphy on it, addressing you as the recipient. You picked out a letter at random, and you recognised the seal—the Dimitrescu crest on black candlewax.
Frowning, you broke the seal and pulled the letter out of its envelope. You broke another, and another, and another. Your heart was fluttering, and the parchment shook in your hands. You’ve opened more than ten letters by now, which meant your eyes did not deceive you. The rest didn’t need to be opened, not when you knew the contents of each and every single letter.
It was mere minutes later when you were admitted to the queen’s study again.
Judging by the paperwork that had now piled up on the queen’s desk, she’d probably not left since you were dismissed. Alcina had always been a hard worker.
Panting and with your hands on your knees, you watched her sign a document. It was highly unusual that she’d not looked at you yet. Usually, she’d give you her full attention as you entered the room no matter how busy she was. ‘T-the… letters.’ You ignored the stitch in your side, and the burning in your lungs.
‘Catch your breath, little one,’ Alcina said, still not meeting your eyes.
‘The…’ You still didn’t have enough breath. Scrunching up your face, you inhaled deeply several times till your breathing slowed down. ‘The letters.’
‘The letters,’ she echoed, putting the document she’d just signed at the top of a pile of others.
You gulped. ‘They were in my room.’
‘Yes.’
‘You told me that they were for the person who…’ You didn’t dare say it. You could be mistaken. Maybe she wanted you to deliver the whole box of letters for her? Maybe she wanted you to make copies of them? You were a scribe after all. Only a scribe.
Alcina sighed softly and finally met your eyes. ‘Why do you think I’ve never received a single letter in reply?’
‘Because…’ Because I never wrote one back.
‘Do I need to make it more obvious than this, little scribe of mine?’ Alcina said with a slight raise of a brow.
You remembered how Alcina would always look at you as she dictated her letters. With each and every word she spoke to be written down, she’d kept her eyes on you without looking away. Those eyes full of love that you had thought were for somebody else… ‘I… I always thought the recipient was just a fool.’
Alcina smirked. ‘Perhaps they are.’
On your next blink, you kept your eyes closed for a moment longer before opening them again. Your mouth opened next, but no words came out. You gulped and took a shaky breath in to try again. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll give you my reply now.’