Chapter 3
My mind felt somewhat lighter as I walked inside. The sun had almost vanished over the horizon. I would tell father tomorrow. A twinge of guilt flashed through me as I wondered what he would think. Probably that I was a coward. I sighed. I knew I was. I actually was surprised he thought I might accept a challenge like going out into the dangerous world and trying to find someone I had never seen. He probably would be happy, though. He had always wanted Reynold to be king. An old pang of jealousy awoke in me, aching deep inside me. Why did father like him better? I trudged up the stairs, trying to shake off the offending thought. As I walked past the spot Reynold had stopped me, I unconsciously moved to the other side of the hall. Glancing over, I saw a slip of crumpled paper lying under a potted palm. What is that? I stepped over to the palm and picked up the bit of white parchment. Smoothing it out, I stared at the paper, uncomprehendingly. It was addressed to Prince Reynold, and signed by Master Leyton. But the content of the letter was written in a different language! Not even in the same symbols the people of Yuta used.
My thoughts were all in a muddle. What? What could it mean? What language was it? And why was Master Leyton leaving notes for the Prince? The sound of footsteps in the hall made me start. I looked frantically around my dress for somewhere to hide the note. Rolling my eyes I thought: This had to be the one day I didn’t wear pockets. Even frills would come in handy now. Finally I stuffed it up my sleeve. Just in time. A young boy rounded the corner. I glanced at him, trying to appear nonchalant. He walked past, eyes turned to the ground. Who was he? I didn’t recognize him as one of the pages. Well, there were always new pages been moved in. He was probably just new. The note slipped part of the way down my sleeve, and I resisted the strong urge to grab my sleeve. As he trudged along the hall, I wished desperately he would hurry up. His quick glance swept across the floor. Why was he doing that? I thought uneasily, watching his eyes shift up to glance at me. I quickly looked away, trying to keep my hand from moving to my sleeve. His piercing, black eyes made my face burn. I quickly walked in the other direction. As I rounded the corner, I stopped and waited a few seconds, my back pressed to the cool wall. Then I silently peered back around the corner. He was stooped over the palm tree, frantically rustling the leaves and scraping at the dirt. He was searching for something. I jerked back, and grabbed my sleeve. The note crackled. Was this what he wanted?
I stepped into the silent haven of books. The library. I tiptoed silently past the Royal librarian, who was leaned back against his cushioned chair, snoring so loudly that I doubted tiptoeing was even necessary. Languages. That was the book I was looking for. A book of languages. I scanned the shelves. Where would a book like that be? I slipped quietly up and down the aisles, pulling off any likely book. The sun was beginning to drift back to the horizon, and the light grew dim. There had to be something… An especially tall shelf caught my eye, and a few old books at the top looked as if they might possibly be what I was searching for. I glanced around for a chair or ladder of some sort. Ah! A stool. I dragged it over the carpeted floor and climbed up on it. I could just brush the cover of the closest book. Straining upward, I grasped the binding of the large brown book. As I pulled it down, a shower of dust, along with a spider and its web, dropped down. Wiping myself and the book off, I read the cover: “Robert’s Essays on the Digestive System of Flies”. Who would read that? I wondered in disgust as I dropped it on the ground. I looked back up at the shelf. That was the only book I could reach. I glanced back at the large book full of boring essays. Large, and…thick! I grabbed it and placed it on top of the stool. There! I could reach much easier. I looked over the whole shelf. It contained only a few books, along with mountains of dust. I picked a small one, covered in dark red fabric, this time pulling it out carefully, so as not to have another dust shower. On the front in fine, swirling letters was wrote “Diary”. I frowned. What was a diary doing in the royal library? Opening it, I looked at the first page. The diary of the 12th queen of Yuta. My breath caught in my throat. The 12th? That was mother! My heart pounded. I jumped down from the stool and ran out of the library, oblivious to the deep snores coming from the general direction of the librarian.
~
Back in my room, I opened the book and stared at the flowing handwriting. Snapping open my locket I looked at the portrait of Mother. On the other side was my name, Lynette written in the same flowing script. I gently turned the page of the diary and read the first entry:
As is custom here in Yuta, I will begin my diary on the first day of the year, though I have not much to write of. This morning was surprisingly warm, considering the cool weather we have had lately. I had a walk in the gardens for the first time in months. I slipped away from the gardens to enjoy the lovely singing of the birds in the aviary. I had thought last year I loved the canaries best, for their cheerful chirps and brilliant colors, but my mind is changed and I much prefer the nightingale. I must go now, though I have written but a little, to change for the banquet to be held in honour of the New Year.
She likes the nightingale best too! I flipped through the pages of her dreams, hopes and thoughts. A sudden thought struck me, and I turned to the last entry:
I have not yet decided what to call my baby it if it is a boy, but if it is a girl, I will name her Lynette. A shiver of pleasure ran down my spine, at seeing my name in my mother’s diary.
I have recently grown suspicious of Nurse Fanny. She was talking in whispers with a manservant. They thought I did not hear them, but in fact, I did, though only a few words, “…switching…”, “…queen must…” and “…will suspect something…”, and I felt uneasy at the strange glances directed at me. Then I also heard a few whispered words that sounded uncannily like Melorian. I wonder if they are descendants of Melorians? Though I suppose it was just a fancy, I shall hope to find a new nurse as soon as possible. Melor is at the moment very hostile to us, and I don’t care to take the chance of letting information of Yuta slip into enemy hands.
My brow wrinkled into a frown as I read and my heart beat faster. Could that have something to do with her sudden disappearance? It sounded awfully suspicious. Could mother have been kidnapped by Melorians? Why, though? The queen would not be the best person to kidnap for information. The royal counsellor would be better. I shrank as the force of the knowledge hit me. I had information that could very well lead me to mother. It was more than probable that she was in Melor. If I didn’t go on the quest, I would live my life, knowing that I may have been able to find her. The heavy cloud of indecision dropped once again. Would Reynold be a good ruler? I sighed uneasily. I never had trusted him. I had known Reynold well since birth, as we had the same nurse, and I had seen him make up small lies. As I was quiet and perhaps more observant than he assumed, I had seen many of these deceptions. Every time I noticed one, I knew that I should tell someone. Even then however, I was frightened of him, and shy of others, and could never bring myself to tell anyone. As he grew older he continued, though none of the lies had ever got him into serious trouble. Now, secret notes, trying to keep me from going… He would probably go to great lengths to insure he would be king. I shivered, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. Would I even be a better ruler than him? Was it better to try to find mother, make solid enemies with Reynold, and face all the dangers Melor could offer, or to stay at home, never find mother, and let Reynold be king? I didn’t want to decide. I didn’t want to go. My thoughts whirled. My mind tried frantically to make up a good excuse. But to no avail. The small voice firmly repeated what I knew I had to do. I had to go.
