“The records room, on the second floor of the east wing,” Eclipse’s teeth glisten in the moonlight.

Pulling a shawl over her shoulders she follows him through the halls. Candles flicking in polished sconces light her path, casting twisting shadows over the dark mahogany walls. Her feet still remember which creaky floorboards to avoid. After eight years, some things never change. But tonight, isn't the time for those memories. Instead, Sara, is in desperate need of help. She promised the child would be safe. Lady Sherwood made her a liar. They turn a corner, and there's Chris with his hands in his pockets waiting for them. The candlelight betrays the dark circles under his eyes. But it doesn't stop the cheerfulness in his voice.

“The boss-man says you need my help?”

“I want it made explicitly clear that this is a one-time request.”

“Yeah yeah,” he pulls a leather case from his pocket and reveals a display of various size metal rods. He selects three and inserts them into the keyhole, with precise twists the lock clicks open, “See, I’m handy in a pinch.”

He holds the door open for her, motioning her inside with a flourish. They light the candles on the tables noticing the packed shelves lining the walls. They each search a bookcase housing hundreds of bound books, scrolls and stacks of parchment. There’s a thin layer of dust that itches her nose as she browses the collection. Chris scans the bindings, unrolls the scrolls, then replaces them with a frown.

“Did he tell you about Sara?” She whispers, hoping she’s not the last to know the truth.

“Let’s just say we had the same thought process. If this was back home, I would just go up to the manor, knock on the window and get the answers that I need.” He notices her displeasure, “yeah Zack’s soldier friend looked at me like that when I told him too. I know its different here, so I wrote a letter addressed to Sara. No response. But I couldn’t let it go. So, I wrote another letter, to Lady S. This time saying I’m some rich friend of yours that is looking to help orphans and I want to basically give Sara money. And I want to talk details over tea.”

“Where are you getting this money?”

“That’s not the point, the point is she didn’t answer. I’ve never seen a Blue Blood refuse free money. So, this is where I might’ve messed up…”

“Chris, you didn’t,”

“I know, but no one has heard from her. Its like the house gobbled her up and no one noticed. So, I knock on the door, the maid tells me to leave. But I see a fear in her eyes, and that set me off. Before I knew it Lady S was swatting at me, there’s hands flying from everywhere. The door slams and its over. I’m about to leave, but that’s when I hear it. Sara screaming and crying from inside. Then I got angry.”

“The fool would have broken the door down if it were not for me.” Eclipse mutters.

“You were both surveying the home?”

“I was keeping my distance, he was interfering.”

“Maybe if you let me in on your little plan, they we would’ve had her out of there by now.” Chris shoots back.

“How come I’m only finding out about this now? Didn’t you trust me?”

“It’s not like that,” Chris remarks.

“I know how much Sara’s wellbeing means to you, and frankly all I had to go on was his hunch. I needed to be certain before I involved you. Because once I did, I knew you would not hesitate to act.”

“Like he said, we wanted you to go in with the facts. And now we know, therefore…

He motions around them. “We weren’t leaving you out of the party. You’re just the big guns that come out when we can’t solve it on our own, that’s all.”

She smiles; she can’t deny how satisfying it is to have a purpose again. Somewhere in all the volumes is the answer to Sara’s freedom. And if all else fails, she’ll take her by force; whether her father approves or not. On the bottom shelf, under stacks of discarded papers, she discovers a small chest. Carrying it to the center table she notices the initials ‘EA’ inscribed on the decorated lid. The same letters that embroidered her mother’s handkerchiefs. Emelia Avalon. But a small padlock secures its contents.

“Chris, come quick, this belonged to my mother. Can you—”

“My pleasure,” he shoves the tools into the lock, jerks it with a flourish, and it crashes to the floor. He holds the candle as her trembling fingers reach for the papers inside. Squinting she attempts to decipher the tiny letters but scribbled at the bottom is her mother’s signature. The faint aroma of her perfume floats from the paper like a ghost.

“They’re her correspondence,” she explains, “this one’s addressed to an Everett.”

“The plot thickens,” he muses. But the letters between them are friendly. She mentions the weather, gossip from the court, and vacation plans. The last paragraph asks ‘what of your dragons? Did the eggs hatch?’

“Dragons?” she frantically reaches for another Everett letter. This one from him. His gift for her birthday is sent by messenger. He mentions his marriage and plan to travel from Dragon Haven to Alexanderia for their honeymoon. His sister is begging him to visit. “Eclipse, my mother and Lord Rose were friends. See,” she lays the letter on the table and pulls out the next one. “She thanks him for the birthday present. And says she never saw such beautiful glass birds and ‘Allan said they appear ready to fly from my hand.’”

The old man knew all along. No wonder they asked me to take Sara, I must've reminded them of her. And that horrid painting. It was the worst night of her life and perhaps it was, up until now, his as well. Tucking the papers inside the chest she continues to peruse volumes of legal documents.

“Eclipse, is there any law that protects children?”

“In Alexanderia, children are the responsibility of their parents; they are free to do as they wish.”

“There are children working in the mines, correct?” She surveys the volumes realising the most vulnerable of people aren’t represented on the shelves.

“They push minecarts and crawl into the smaller crevices.”

“Where do they go if their parents die unexpectedly?”

“They are left to the fate of the Gods, and people’s charity.”

“Hey, don’t look at me, you already know how Lollardum feels about kids. Don’t feel bad, it’s hard knowing what’s going on out there when you live in palaces like this. But to let you in on a secret though, the only people these laws care about are the ones with titles.”

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“A title? Yes! Eclipse, where are the volumes about inheritance of the nobility?”

“Inheritance? Sara’s only inheritance is a valley of ash. Kipling ensured he erased everything.”

“You’re a genius!” she gasps racing to the bookcase on the back wall.

“Well, yes of course I am. But care to explain my brilliance in this particular context?”

The sunshine beams through the window landing on Chris who sleeps in a chair. On his lap rests the chest of dusty letters. She paces outside her father’s study waiting for the early morning meeting to conclude. When the doors creak opens the lords file out, only stopping their chatter to bow as they pass. She swats at Chris who wakes with a snort then, with Eclipse in tow, follows her inside. She’s hoping for a private word with her father, but Lord Beckham greets her with a sneer. He's pacing behind the king, who sits at his desk with stacks of correspondence. The chairs and couches are askew from the lords, but the sun shines through two balcony doors washing over the space.

“Good morning, my daughter, I thought you had classes until noon.” His quill scratches the parchment as he writes. “Are you not feeling well, my dear?”

“Father, I heard unflattering news about the ill-treatment of a family friend, Lady Rose. My source witnessed her mistreatment at her current residence.”

“Lord Orbit reported the young Lady Rose is with her aunt, Lady Sherwood.”

“Yes, however, her aunt’s mistreatment of her is unfitting of a girl of her rank.”

“Might I remind Your Majesty; the Crown is not responsible for parental relations.”

“Ah yes, valid point my lord.”

“Unless there is a direct threat to the Crown, the kingdom’s safety and security, then, it is not our business to dictate whether a parent allows the child to eat dessert before dinner,” both men chuckle. “Unless, Your Highness, Lady Sherwood’s actions prove to violate any of those conditions.”

“Moira, do they? What does your informant say about maltreatment?”

“It’s a matter of life and death.”

“But not to the crown?” When she doesn’t answer Beckham continues “then, we have no jurisdiction. There are other matters to attend to.”

Am I being dismissed by a lord in the king’s presence?

“My dear, there are other concerns which need my attention,”

“No,” she spits before he scribbles another word, “you don’t dismiss me like I’m a child. You will hear what I have to say.”

“Moira, you are out of line…”

“No father, I’m the only one here who’s in line,” she directs the comment to Beckham, “I remember what our family stands for, do you?”

“Silence child!” Beckham pounces, “this is a space of business—”

“You don't silence me!”

“Moira that is enough!”

“You want business, my lord? The Crown will not interfere with parental rights, but Sara holds both the rank and inheritance of the Rose lineage; which her aunt currently denies her. Before you interrupt me, Lord Beckham, I reviewed the records. Lady Sherwood relinquished her right to her brother’s inheritance when she married. Will you deny a member of the aristocracy what is rightly hers?”

“Bellavere is obligated to provide Lady Rose’s inheritance since Dragon Haven belongs in their border,” Beckham argues, leaning over the king’s shoulder.

“Bellavere eradicated Dragon Haven. The hostility within its own border creates contentious conditions within the mother kingdom. In addition, as the surviving member of the township, Dragon Haven exists where Sara resides, which is currently at Crowns Avenue, perfectly planted within our borders. Furthermore, my lord, based on our laws, Lady Rose is, by definition, a political refugee seeking sanctuary in our kingdom.”

“How do you expect us to financially support her? Give her a palace and servants?”

“I am prepared to remove her from her current situation and assigned a position as a member of my court. Which is an equivalent rank and prestige until a permanent situation is arranged.”

“Daughter, this is not how we conduct business, you do not shout demands like this.”

“If Your Highness believes outcomes originate from tantrums then she is inept to manage affairs.”

“This is not a tantrum, Lord Beckham,” clenching her teeth, “this is a command.”

“Moira!”

“Father, either write the letter outlining the current agreement I explained,” she slams a blank parchment on the table, “or I will. I prefer your support, but I’m not above forging your signature and using your seal. Sara deserves better. Children deserve better.” Her face softens, “you are my father, I hate to fight, but I made a promise to her mother. And I will honour it.”

“My daughter, this is unorthodox.”

His glare meets hers and both tempers fume in the silence. Her pounding heart thumps in her ears, its now or never. He’s always been an immovable mountain, and she knows she’s testing his patience. He holds her future in his hands, and most wouldn’t poke the bear. But, then again, she knows past the guilt and pain from losing his wife, he still has the capacity to care. Without prompting Chris drops the chest on the desk between them. He glances to the initials on the lid before turning to her for explanation.

“How did mother and Everett Rose meet?”

“Lollardum Market,” he sighs, “of all places. Your mother loved all sort of creatures and had an affinity towards the magical variety. That said she was at the Market when she spotted a Paradise Swallow in a cramped cage for sale. The jungle bird’s vibrant feathers were dull and according to her it couldn’t sing its enchanting song. It broke her heart; her goal was to nurse it to health then release it. However, she ended up in a bidding war with a man wearing falconry gear. She was convinced he would feed it to his falcon. Everett on the other hand, didn’t want the bird to waste away in some aristocrat’s parlor. He won the bid and your mother burst into tears pleading not to kill it. They became instant friends and remained so until she passed. The bird recovered and was released.”

“Mother wouldn’t allow his only daughter to they way she is currently. Father please, it is my fault she is there; I carry this responsibility.”

“I must agree with you, she loved too much to wish harm on a child,” he sighs, motioning for Chris to retrieve the chest. “I have never witnessed you fight this hard for someone before.”

Beckham purses his lips; his scowl burns her skin as the king writes the decree. By the time her business with her father is complete Eclipse has recruited two guards for their endeavour. Chris squeezes into the carriage, his knee bobs as they travel to Crowns Avenue. The colour from Millie’s face vanishes as she eyes Chris stepping from a royal carriage. However, the reality of situation settles as Moira exits and approaches the stoop. Before she was the dirty Mage for hire, her transformation to heir to the throne is unexpected to most. With a wide smile and bow, the servant shuffles them inside the parlour. There’s no time for pleasantries, there’s only one question on her mind.

“Your Highness, this is unexpected,” Lady Sherwood bows, “I admit, the news of your return came as both a shock and a feeling of grace.”

“I’m here for Sara.”

“Oh?” her mouth tightens, “and what do you want with her?”

“She is to return to the palace with me.”

“Your Highness, she is in my custody, with all due respect she belongs to me.”

“Starting immediately, she is a member of my court,” she hands her the sealed letter. Lady Sherwood face turns ashen as she reads the king’s command. “I discovered how you treat her, I know you lock her away, I know she doesn’t eat, and I know how you hit her until she cries. Simply, Lady Sherwood, she is to come with us. Obviously, she is an inconvenience to you; consider us removing her as a favour. We both get what we want.”

“If I may, Your Highness, children are an investment in our future, however,” her eyes narrow as the words cross her lips, “their care and wellbeing require a certain amount of time, patience, and necessities to sustain them. Sara, in this case, has accumulated a certain debt—”

“You want money?”

“Compensation,”

“Seriously?”

“Here take this,” Chris tosses his purse to Lady Sherwood.

“Chris, you don’t have to…”

“Nah,” he smirks, “it’s not mine anyway.”

“This seems sufficient, take the brat. I sent her to fetch cloudberries, but that was hours ago.” a devious smile creases her face.

Those berries are out of season... And the wild mountain dogs will maul her alive.

“You hag!” Her teetering professionalism crumbles. “Go pray to the gods, because if anything happens to her, you’ll need Them to protect you from me! You two,” she orders as she reaches the door.

“Oh, you’re feisty today,” Chris smirks jumping into the carriage behind her.