I've spent the past week confined to the house, burdened by lingering guilt from my recent sneaking out.
Brother Pascal is preoccupied with his responsibilities in the monarchy, while my mother's health is gradually improving. However, she's growing increasingly anxious about my father's absence. I don't want to add to their worries, so I've resolved to stay put at home for the time being.
This week, I've been immersed in reading books pertaining to the Royal Competition and dedicating time to training for it. Currently, I'm focusing on honing my equestrian and archery skills, areas where I still need improvement.
Rufus generously offered to teach me, and while he has already imparted some archery knowledge, I feel there's more to learn. Unfortunately, Rufus has been occupied with other matters lately and hasn't been able to visit me for days. Perhaps, the Duke has assigned him additional tasks to attend to.
I set aside the book I've been reading, "The Parallel Universe." I had hoped to find some clues about the author within its pages, but unfortunately, I've got nothing. Unlike published books in the real world, there's no information on how to contact the writer or the publisher.
In this fictional world, advanced technology is nonexistent. Even telephones are unheard of. Communication is primarily conducted through letters, or in urgent cases, through messenger birds. However, raising a messenger bird is both costly and labor-intensive, making it a less accessible form of communication.
"Miss, a letter from the Princess of the Aeslaerean Kingdom has arrived," a maid calls out from outside.
"Slip it through the gap at the bottom of the door. I don't want to see you or anyone. Get out!" My mouth blurts out. Of course, how can I forget? Csille is still the villainess in the novel, known for her cruelty towards the maids.
I rise from my seat and retrieve the letter. Princess Paislee? It's been nearly a month since she last replied, which is unusual. Typically, her responses arrive within three days. I had nearly forgotten about our conversation.
Dearest Csille,
I apologize for my delayed response. There are things unfolding in our Kingdom that demand my attention, as I've been assisting my parents with pressing matters. I'm reaching out not to address your previous letter, but to convey that this year's Royal Competition of the Arts will be postponed. While I can't disclose the specific reasons at present, our Kingdom will issue an official announcement in due course. I wanted to give you advance notice, knowing how diligently you've been training. Unfortunately, I'm unable to provide further details at this time. However, I assure you that once the situation stabilizes here, I'll promptly reply and provide more information.
I'm truly disappointed that we won't be able to meet at the Royal Competition of the Arts. Hopefully, there will be another opportunity for us in the future. Take care always.
Love,
Paislee
Something is happening in the Aeslaerean Kingdom? I rack my brain, trying to recall if I ever included such an event in my writing. However, I realize that I haven't provided much detail about the Aeslaerean Kingdom in my novel.
If I didn't write about this, then why is it happening now? I thought this world was based on my story, but now I'm left wondering what's truly going on.
I'm suddenly riminded by the bad feeling that has been lingering within me recently. Could it be related to this unfolding event? If so, what repercussions might it bring? Anxiety gnaws at me as I contemplate the potential implications.
_________
"Miss, for what reason do you require the messenger bird?" the butler queries.
I'm thinking of sending a letter to Rufus, asking information about the whereabouts of the book's author.
"I simply wish to send Rufus a letter. There's something I need to inquire about," I respond.
The butler adjusts his eyeglasses. "Why not have someone deliver the letter to the Duke's residence?" he suggests.
I shake my head. "I couldn't take that risk."
Given the lingering scrutiny on the Lauretré family, even Princess Paislee's letter arrived via messenger bird.
I believe the writer is the only one who could provide crucial answers.
"Could you please lend it to me? I need to send letters to Rufus and the Princess of the Aeslaerean Kingdom."
The butler shakes his head once more. "I'm sorry, Miss, the Count's authorization is necessary for you to utilize the messenger bird."
I trudge back with slumped shoulders, feeling disappointed. With my father absence, obtaining permission to use the bird is out of the question. The weight of guilt from my sneaking out keeps me from going outside
What should I do? I'm in desperate need to meet the writer.
Deep in thought, I'm stopped in my tracks by Brother Pascal's interruption. "Csille, the butler mentioned you wanted to use the messenger bird. Who do you plan to send a letter to?"
I turn to face Brother Pascal, noting he's still clad in his official attire from his duties at the monarch. He looks sharp in the official uniform, but I can't shake the image of him looking even more impressive in a white coat.
I hurry over to Brother Pascal and help him remove his coat. "I just need to send a letter to Rufus," I explain urgently. "There's something important I need to discuss with him. Also, the Crown Princess of the Aeslaerean Kingdom sent me a letter, and I wish to reply to her."
Brother Pascal gives my head a gentle tap. "Alright, if that's the situation, I'll speak to the butler and arrange for you to use it," he says reassuringly.
I smile and hug Brother Pascal from the side. "Brother, is everything alright at the monarch?"
His smile fades, and he responds, "Is your mother in her room?" I nod silently. "I need to speak with her first. Let's talk later, alright?"
I nod in response, feeling a sense of unease creeping over me. Why does Brother Pascal seem so serious? Is something amiss? Quietly, I trail behind him as he enters Mother's room and dismisses the maids.
Sensing the gravity of their conversation, I understand why Brother Pascal dismissed the maids. They must be discussing something crucial.
Glancing around to ensure no one is nearby, I cautiously approach my mother's room. I attempt to listen at the door, pressing my ear against it, but the thick door muffles any sound from within, making it difficult to discern their conversation.
Feeling left out of the conversation, I wrestle with a blend of annoyance and comprehension. They likely view me as a child, unaware of the person I truly am—Ysavel, a twenty-three-year-old writer.
But how could they know? In this world, I am Csille, the young daughter of a Count. Yet, I can't shake the desire to be included in discussions that affect my family and our future.
I searched for another means to listen to their conversation, but I couldn't think of any option apart from opening the door. Opening the door would undoubtedly reveal my attempt to overhear their conversation. Despite the dilemma, I relent and cautiously crack open the door, leaving a narrow gap to catch fragments of their conversation.
"The King is summoning you to the palace to discuss the case, Aunt," Brother Pascal informed her. Grateful that they hadn't noticed me, I continued to eavesdrop.
"Why must I go? Has the court already identified the culprit responsible for the accident?"
Brother Pascal affirmed, "Yes, indeed. He wishes to speak with you directly regarding this matter. If you wish, I can accompany you tomorrow."
Mother gestured dismissively. "That won't be necessary. Why does he specifically request my presence? Is it related to the culprit? Are our suspicions accurate?"
"Yes, Aunt. It involves one of the noble families. However, I can't divulge further details as the King has instructed me to keep it confidential. He intends to reveal the identity of the culprit himself," Brother Pascal explained.
I find myself compelled to intervene, as if my body were acting independently. The door swings open, and my feet stride into the room. "A noble family? The one responsible for harming Mother is from a noble family?" I demand, my feet carrying me toward Brother Pascal. "Brother, tell me, who is it?"
Brother Pascal and Mother were taken aback, momentarily frozen in surprise. Brother gently grasps my arms. "Csille, why are you here? Didn't I tell you that your mother and I needed to talk? How long have you been listening? This is not—" But Mother interrupts him before he can finish his sentence.
"Let her stay, Pascal," Mother intervenes, motioning for me to join her. My body comply and settle beside her. "Csille, it's not proper to eavesdrop on conversations. Promise me you won't do it again, alright?" My head nod in agreement, and Mother smiles gently. "You can stay, but let your brother speak, okay?" My head nods once more.
"Pascal, I'll go to the Palace tomorrow. You don't need to accompany me. Just stay here and look after Csille," Mother instructs.
Brother Pascal was supposed to refuse, but my mother dismissed him. The nobles? Who would do such a thing? I know many people are against the Lauretré family, but who would dare to harm the Countess? Harming a noble with a title is a grave offense in the Vrawyth Kingdom.
So who would dare to do that?
_________
I still haven't found anything. The report always indicates that the writer is residing in that place. Perhaps it's better if we check again. If we still don't find anything, then I'll broaden my search.
Rufus replied to the letter I sent him this morning. I also dispatched a letter to the Aeslaerean Kingdom. However, given the distance between our kingdoms, it will likely take some time before the Princess receives the letter.
I ponder as I stare at the paper on the table. If the investigations consistently lead to that location, it strongly suggests that the writer indeed resides there. But how could anyone inhabit such a desolate place? With only bushes and trees around, where could this person possibly be hiding?
I look at the paper and start to write.
Thank you for providing the details.I understand you're occupied, but could you join me tomorrow? I require your help in locating the author of the book.
Also, I recall you mentioned knowing a way to contact the crown prince. Could you assist me in sending him a message? Many thanks.
I carefully rolled the paper into a tight scroll and then handed it to the messenger bird perched on my window sill. It's the same messenger bird from Rufus. I pet it for a while before I signaled it to fly. The bird immediately flies to the dark sky
I've been living here for quite a while now, but many unexpected events are unfolding. The Count's journey to the western region, the Countess' accident, Brother Pascal's presence, and the discovery of the culprit behind the Countess' accident. None of this aligns with my original plans. I'm the creator of this world, yet it seems to be deviating from the story I written.
Is it because of the time gaps?
________
In the early morning, my mother heads to the Palace while Brother Pascal takes a break from his duties in the monarchy to stay with me today. Feeling guilty about my previous sneaking out, I asked Brother Pascal for permission to go out, and thankfully, he agreed, but under the condition that he accompany us to our destination.
And since Brother Pascal is joining us. We used the Lauretré carriage instead of the carriage of Rufus. Rufus and I are seated together. I am glad Brother Pascal did not ask why we are going to that place.
We arrived swiftly, finding the same desolate field as before. Brother Pascal aided in our search, though we didn't specify who we are looking for.
"Is it an individual or an object?" he inquired.
Both Rufus and I stopped what we are doing to answer Brother Pascal's question about what are we searching for.
"It's a person. It's the writer of the book The Parallel Universe." I answered.
Brother Pascal got startled by my answer. "You're looking for the writer of The Parallel Universe? Why didn't you say so? I know where we could find him." He smiled.
Rufus and I exchanged surprised glances. "You know where? Can you bring us to him or her?"
He just smiled at me. "We're already here." Brother Pascal walked towards a towering tree. He then knocked on it three times, and the tree unexpectedly shifted. Its center opened like a door!
"Wow! I didn't know you could do that!" Rufus whispered from my side.
I silently agree. Although I've seen tree houses in the real world, it's my first time seeing one so cleverly concealed. I recall the last time we came here, I even leaned against that tree, but I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. It's truly remarkable.
Brother Pascal looks back at both of us. "What are you two doing there? Come on. We need to get inside, or else we might not get to see him today."
Both Rufus and I immediately rush towards the door. Once inside, the door closes on its own. Brother Pascal takes my hand, probably thinking I would be afraid of the dark.
We walk for a minute, then spot a light coming from a direction. "That's where he is. Let's go. We only have an hour. After that, the door will close for the day, and we'll have to wait until tomorrow for it to open."
After hearing Brother Pascal's words, we hastened our footsteps. However, before we could reach the door, a bright light enveloped the surroundings. The last thing I recall is someone calling my name before I blacked out.