"It's a collection of essays from various sources on the history and customs of the north-eastern nomadic traders, covering their stories, philosophies, and history of interactions with other groups." She held the book up where I could see it; its cover was in another language, one with an independent set of characters from ours. I could only assume it was Allurian; since I never had any interaction with the northern countries, there was no way to be sure. 

I was too proud to outright admit that I didn't know the language of our neighbors, so I tried to redirect. She was either a far more accomplished liar than I had assumed, or she was impressively eccentric in her reading tastes. Although I was an avid reader myself, I usually kept to science, magic, and fiction- history, geography, and current events were outside my general sphere of interest. 

"Do you... Do you read books like that often?" Internally, I cursed myself for my awkward tone of voice. I didn't even know that the northern clans had historians; they never stayed in one place long enough to put down roots. The only permanent structures they had that I knew of were shrines to their pantheon spread erratically along their trade routes. 

"Not as often as I'd like." Her face took on a melancholy note, her eyes rising to look at the sky. The sun was just brushing the horizon, and only a scattering of the brightest stars was visible. We had started moving again at this point; I was rather concerned at her ability to walk without looking where she was going, but so far she hadn't stumbled once. 

"They pass history by word of mouth rather than the written word, and very few of the members of the clans decide to leave the area. Their language is also fairly obscure; only a handful of Allurian scholars ever learn it, which means that books on the topic tend to be few and far between." 

I doubt that weedy scholars would have the stamina to make it to the obscure corners of the north, and from what I knew finding the nomads was a task in and of itself. They followed a regular path, but they were the only ones that knew where they would be at what time of the year. They were remarkably inconsistent. 

Giving a noncommittal shrug of my shoulders, deciding to give a dangerously honest answer rather than the socially acceptable one. "I've never been fond of history. I learned the basics from tutors over the years, but that tended to focus mainly on major political powers when we talked about anything other than our own stories. It's never been a topic I've been all that interested in exploring."

Elenora gave a dry laugh, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. I couldn't help but stare back. Her gaze felt like it was looking into my soul and passing judgment on what she found. Her deep auburn hair swung in time with her steps, and her eyes were a weird mixture of green and brown. It somehow felt both unnatural and perfectly suited to her overall existence. 

"History is vital to a nation's survival, your highness." Her eyes moved to the greenery that lined our path, releasing me from the power of her gaze. She had a compelling voice that currently dropped into a low alto as she quietly spoke."

"If you understand the successes and failures of the past, you can stop the same thing from occurring again in our future. History lets you know how people react through time, what you can do to manage that without the world collapsing in on your head. Without it, we simply make the same mistakes again and again, leading to useless wars and losses of life. We are no better than animals who have failed to learn from their mistakes."

She made a valid point, but it didn't seem like it mattered in my life. I had never been destined for power or greatness; what use would I have for knowing the mistakes of the past if I'm not going to affect the mistakes of the future? 

It felt rude to tell her that, and I had the feeling that she would be disappointed in me with that reply. I decided to play it safe and agree.

"You're probably right." I offered a small smile, internally shocked at how well the night was going. Maybe I had learned something from my history. 

The conversation turned to books we had both read, and both of us became animated as we debated the merits of our favorite and least favorite stories. I found myself laughing for the first time in a while at her absolute obliteration of a character I had rather liked but who was admittedly wildly flawed. 

We arrived back at the door to the corridor far quicker than I would have liked, our conversation trailing off as both of us realized our walk had come to a halt. With genuine regret, I offered her my arm once again and escorted her back to her seat. I hoped my stepmother would arrange for me to meet her again, but at the very least I would have one positive experience to cling to in the future. 

I forced myself to keep looking forward as I went into the ballroom, now whirling with chaos and awkward dancing. I planned to dance with two or three other women before taking my leave, fulfilling the expectations Her Majesty had for me. I could only hope that I got out of this farce as quickly as possible.