Emilia awoke to her growling stomach, a byproduct of skipping supper the night before. Instead of getting up she wrapped up more in her comforter, still tired. If one more confusing thing happened her brain would soon implode. Not just that but Landervik would have it out for her ass when he finds out she got this letter last night and is getting it to him during morning training.
Her mind however was mostly occupied with what the hell the Lady of Larson was doing in her room last night. Whatever her aim was, she wasn’t doing the best job. What did she benefit from the ‘price’ she placed on her information? Self-satisfaction? Was she into her? Why would she be?! Emilia put a knife to her throat and cut her days before, was she a masochist or something? Was her information even true? The Lord of Dent was weak and it made little sense that he had anything to bargain with siding the vikings, he was too much of a coward to wander the castle halls as a spy. Perhaps it was a persona, similar to that of the persona Emilia had believed to be the Lady of Larson.
Emilia rolled to the other side of her bed. Her name was Isabeau, her mother was a prostitute that somehow married a Lord and died, Isabeau became the next Lady of Larson. She was reported by many to be docile but not visibly vulnerable, that she ‘turned to ice’ when threatened. Upon an interaction with Emilia her notes were updated to include the mask she hid behind when she felt endangered. Upon a second interaction with Emilia her notes were updated to include her susceptibility to honesty when threatened with a blade, and her attempt to find vulnerabilities in Emilia that a dagger couldn’t hide. The person who took her to her room last night was manipulative, cunning, and deceitful. A soon to be married woman looking for sexual gratification in exchange for the information she held. To say the least… that didn’t align with her notes.
Begrudgingly (how she did most things), Emilia raised from her bed and began to change out of her nightgown. It just made no sense. It also was too much for Emilia to handle. The Lady was able to see her vulnerabilities, even attempted to manipulate them. How’d she even know about her taste for women? It wasn’t a surprise about the Lady’s taste itself however, many nobles indulged in secret same-sex relationships. However normally after a stable facade of marriage and with a servant they can keep quiet. Not when they are about to get married and choose a Princess that has cut them with a dagger. Landervik would not hear of this unless he found it out on his own, this was something she would investigate alone.
Emilia continued to get into her usual get-up for training but paused while tying her corset when she heard a knock at the door. No one knocked on her door normally, not even servants came to help her unless called on by her themselves.
“Who is it?” Emilia questioned loud enough for whoever was outside the door to hear.
“My Princess?” She didn't recognize the voice, “I came under the instruction of Landervik with a message.”
“Come in.”
A lanky boy stepped into the room adorned in battle clothes, if that didn’t give it away his buzz cut definitely did. This was one of Landervik’s closests warriors, the ones that relayed trusted information and stood at his side in battle. That didn’t change royal rank however, since the boy nervously hovered by the door after closing it, waiting for Emilia’s permission to continue.
“Well,” Emilia demanded, “out with it.”
“Landervik has suspended your training for the next week, a battalion he will lead is to head to Dent to ward off docking vikings,” The boy inhaled, “by request of the fallen Lord in a ransom letter.”
“When do we leave?” Emilia asked, thinking about how quickly she could get her weapons and Armour from the dungeons.
“My Princess,” He tread carefully while saying the words, “Landervik has instructed you to stay and continue your assigned mission, following the retrieval of the letter you found last night.”
Emilia stayed quiet for a moment, then sat on her bed. Sighing as she dropped her pounding head into her hands, long hair falling all over the place. This made no sense. The Lady had lied? The Lord of Dent was held ransom this whole time, she’d been fed useless castle rumors and gossip. Landervik left her? He trained her through all of this, she’d endured his torture to be left behind like garbage. And he’d had someone come in her room and take the letter while she’d been sleeping? Not only was she a shitty spy for not waking but whoever came in could’ve done more than just take that letter, especially under Landerviks orders. She looked up to see the boy still standing by her door.
“If you’re done then leave,” Emilia ordered. The boy took this with grace but Emilia could see how excited he was to get out of there.
She continued getting dressed, putting a velvet throw over dress over top instead of her usual gear. Still she slipped her daggers into each secret pocket, she had many people to visit today. Left on her own, Emilia didn’t really know what to be doing exactly though besides her personal investigations. Landervik had taken the letter and left her no information about it, they must be under his jurisdiction now with another spy. Slowly, Emilia was losing her touch, failing. All she knew was how to fight, her spy training was falling so short it’d be hard to notice she’d had any training at all. Trying to ignore her cheeks reddening from embarrassment, she braided her hair at the side of her head. He wasn’t even bringing her with the battalion, like he didn’t trust her in her specialty area. Hadn’t she gained his trust, proved her loyalty, put herself on the line, become vulnerable for him? She was worthless, a back-burner warrior only to be used when his seconds fail. She was never enough, would never be up with his seconds but had to endure five times the anguish.
Her hollow insides ached, not just with hunger. It wasn’t just voices in her head telling her she wasn’t enough, now it was the person she’d laid her sanity on the line to please. Now it was an old dipshit who somehow in her 20 years gave her the same amount of trauma as a 65 year-old ex-soldier. Now it was the man who left the castle most likely poorly guarded and given her free reign for a week. You want to leave me out of this, Emilia thought, fine but don’t expect a welcoming return home.
Emilia trekked down the empty halls, only lit by the faint morning sun. Her footsteps echoed, resonating against the freshly polished marble. She made her way to the kitchen to grab a slice of bread with some cheese, still starving from the night before. It was easy enough to assume the Lady of Larson was still somehow in contact with the Lady of Mercia. Some all day library surveillance wouldn’t hurt, if it wasn’t there Emilia would track and hunt every other method for the next week. Everyone continued to underestimate her, turning their backs and deeming her powerless. A knife to the throat wasn’t enough, a threat on their family wasn’t enough, and suffering hours of torture everyday wasn’t enough. Will anything ever be enough? Was she tricking herself into a cycle of anguish?
She didn’t really care. If she could uproot this stupid rebellion on her own Landervik would have to give her credit where credits due. She could really prove herself, her previous failures would not define her anymore. And she didn’t have him breathing down her back while she did it.
Once she reached the library she went up one of the book ladders to the top of a shelf in the far back that connected to a dark coven where shadows fell upon piles of books. Emilia situated herself so that she could see virtually every inch of the library but no one would be able to find her in the shadows. For the first few hours she ate her breakfast and read some random books to fill the time while everyone was up and getting their breakfast.
Emilia wouldn’t have noticed the Lady of Mercia enter the library but the Lady went back to the shelf she sat above. She watched the Lady grab a large golden book off a shelf in front of her and set it on a table, then standing and waiting by the gap. Odd. Things started to make a lot more sense when the Lady of Larson appeared on the other side of the shelf. Somehow they’d been meeting here, staying out of not only Emilia’s sight but every other spy that would monitor during her training period. Oh this made so much sense. She’d assumed it, but assurance was always nice.
At an attempt to act like a spy again, Emilia sat completely still. Listening in to hear what the Lady of Larson was beginning to say.
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