Elodie cozied herself on a quickly-made, ostentatious chaise lounge woven from oversized wisteria vines by her oration. Not exactly what she'd meant by "a comfortable place to sit," but it wasn't something Elodie would complain about. Fen watched with curiosity, though he ignored the pillow she'd made. He took to pacing around the area, and every once in a while, Elodie heard him growl to scare away eavesdropping fairies.

Lying there with a stick in hand, a little bit of embarrassment crept into Elodie's cheeks at the childishness of it all.

"Where do you think I should start?" she queried Fen.

The gelert said, "Wherever you want," unhelpfully.

Elodie looked at the stick for answers. "I ... don't know." She felt a familiar static feeling in her mind, the emptiness of words that always came when she needed them most. A timidness welled up within her. If she couldn't do this, then Ann ...

Start at the beginning, her muse prompted.

"The beginning?"

You were born, weren't you?

"Sure, but I wasn't there."

Begin.

It was a simple command, but it had a straightforwardness that Elodie could oblige. "Very well. I was born on the night of what my father says was the worst blizzard that's ever hit the northern line." As she spoke the words, she could feel a slight tingling on the edge of her lips; her muse was seeping the oration through her words. "My mother wanted all of the windows open for some reason..."

* * *

"When I was little, I spent a lot of time watching the other kids play. I've always been meeker than most other people my age, and it didn't help that I was especially sickly for a few years. Ann always kept me company, so I never felt alone. Ann and I used to go for long walks, and few would notice we were missing. If we ever tried to hide ourselves from the world truly, Nadya could always find us. Regardless, I don't think I had a presence within my generation of nobles. My mother calls me a daphne amongst my peers.

I usually spent my time in the royal library, reading as many books as possible. Sometimes, Ann would read to me, or I to her. Sometimes, we would read in silence. My favorite spot to sit and read was at a long table next to a window that looked out into the courtyard from the second floor. I could read books and picture the other kids as the characters. It made me feel like ... I don't know like I was playing with them even if I was too shy to venture downstairs.

One day, I saw from the window that Prince Braum stood over another boy with his hands in the boy's collar. 'There's no ghost!' he yelled loud enough to reach the library, 'She's a lady!' When the prince yells something ... even for kids, it's well understood that there is no room for discussion. A few kids jumped in to corroborate his story or to say that Lady Jorlaug had just been joking. That seemed to cool him off enough to step away from the boy, who stormed off in embarrassment. I remember thinking it was odd and wondered if it was some game they were playing.

A few days later, it rained. The sound of droplets on the library window was rhythmic and soothing. It was the kind of rain that made me wish I was at home with a blanket and Nadya to make puppets by candlelight with her. None of the other kids could play outside, and four had ascended to the library as an alternative. They peeked in the door, and I heard one say, 'Is that her? The ghost?' I was shy and wanted to assume they couldn't possibly be talking about me, so I ignored them. I was silent and went back to reading my book- which didn't help their perception of me. Thank goodness Ann was there and could say a greeting in my stead. A peel of lightning undid all of her efforts, and all the kids ran back into the hallway, hiding under the curtains on the windows. Prince Braum entered the room next while the rest trembled behind him.

He asked very bluntly, 'What are you reading?'

I didn't know what to think at first. When I looked up again from my book, I saw several pairs of eyes blinking at me, and Braum's immensity made me feel nervous. 'A book about f-fairytales, your Highness,' I responded.

The prince leaned in to scan it more carefully and asked, 'Is it good?'

That was a question I could answer more quickly: 'Yes!'

Prince Braum smiled at that and informed me, 'Lady Jorlaug told everyone that there was a ghost up here, but I told them you were real. I don't think ghosts can read or sit for lessons like you do, so you must be real.'

That logic didn't make much sense to me, but he called the other kids in, and Ann took the chance to explain clearly and carefully that I was not, in fact, a ghost. She even pinched my cheek to prove it. I listened as they all bickered amongst themselves, confused and lost. Lady Jorlaug recognized the book I was reading and said she had the same one at home. 'Do you have a favorite story?' she asked.

This question offered me a moment of clarity. It was so much easier to talk about stories with others. I smiled and told her, 'I like the one with the firebird.'

'Me too!' Lady Jorlaug responded, her admiration shining in her eyes.

The other kids were curious, and Ann suggested I read the story to them. That made me happy. When the story concluded, a few of them apologized for their mistake. I shook my head and assured them it was no trouble. On rainy days after that, the library had an occasional visitor I could read with."

* * *

Taking care of Nadya when she's sick is always trying because she won't admit she's sick. She is the type to grit her teeth through any pain. Once, she played an entire piano recital with a fever just because hersir Bodil was visiting our family. I could tell something was wrong, though, because when offered a profiterole at the luncheon afterward, she declined it. Nadya never declines profiteroles. Ever.

I slunk over to her and joked that someone had replaced her, and she sagged so heavily on my side that I thought she was falling prone. Her skin was fire-hot and sticky with a thin layer of sweat. Even as she tried to right herself, I called Baba over, and we helped lay her down on one of the couches. Being this kind of mother, my mother distracted the hersir for the entire afternoon with a tour of the second-floor architecture and then a walk in the forest behind our house with Tilly and Simona.

I told Nadya, 'Stay here; I'll get some water and a towel.'

'What?' she responded with a slurring tone, 'No, no, I'll get it myself.'

'You stay right there!' I told her.

Nadya tried to protest and started to sit up but stopped when she opened her eyes enough to see me. She must have been very sick because she laid back on the couch and finally gave up the protest without fighting.

I went to the kitchens, my heart full of fear and worry and love for my sister. My father told the kitchen staff what was happening, and they all began to discuss adjustments for the hersir's visit. I returned to Nadya's sitting room with a bowl of water and a soaking rag and began blotting her skin to cool her down. It was chilling to me to see my sister weak and breathing hard. It was my first time seeing someone I considered confident and full of life rendered weak and helpless. I think that was the first time I also realized how dependent I was on Nadya as the pillar of our family. I found myself wishing I knew medicinal cures or recipes for meals that would bring back her strength.

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'I'm sorry,' I told her quietly, thinking she was already asleep. 'I'm always looking to you for what to do. This is all I can do for you right now.'

Nadya surprised me with a hoarse, strained voice, 'I rely on you too, Elodie.'

I blustered and tried to sputter a response as I put the rag on her forehead. 'You're lying.'

Nadya said, 'You're powerful in your own way. You'll see it someday.'

After that, Nadya relented into a feverish sleep. Baba carried her upstairs to her room, and I insisted I stay to help. Her health returned to her in a few short days, but following her illness, I asked our aides to teach me their treatments and remedies. I did not want to feel so helpless again."

* * *

"There was also the matter of the court advisory role that I had to adjust to. Alden gave me a room to work in, though I still have no idea what that work entails- and His Highness had a short, official declaration written and signed. There was much gossip and discomfort in the first few days, but it passed into conversations behind closed doors. I still feel I am a bit of an imposter amongst the royal council.

One day, I saw the prince in the meeting room with the brass-worked doors speaking with one of the castle's aides, and I very politely asked him for a moment of his time. He invited me in, and I gave the pleasantries of a bow. He bade his aide to leave and asked, 'What is it?'

Not knowing how else to approach it, I asked directly, 'You're sure it's alright for me to be here? As an advisor?'

Something in his form sagged, and he said, 'In this room? Yes, I hereby permit you to enter the council chamber, Elodie. I'll write an edict and everything.'

I ignored his sarcasm and said, 'If I am to become an advisor, I feel I need to be qualified to do so. I should know courtly ... things.'

Prince Braum rapped his fingers against the meeting room table, littered with books, maps, and records that added to my feelings of inadequacy. I was- I am in awe of him. To have learned so much since he was young must have been a significant undertaking. But for all his supposed knowledge, all he responded was, 'Things?' with that cheeky little smirk of his.

As an example, I said, 'Etiquette,' very sheepishly.

The prince raised an eyebrow, saying nothing but inquiring plenty in his silence. Then he said, 'You've been taught by the same etiquette tutors I have.

'Economics,' I tried again.

'Alden is my minister, and he's quite good at his job, and even better at ousting competition. Should you tell him, or will I have to?'

'Politics then,' I tried a third time.

He turned so that his back was instead supported by the edge of the table and crossed his arms. 'You're determined to turn this position down,' he said, 'You think there's some fault I will find that will disqualify you from the position.' He turned and gave me a look that was infuriatingly discerning. 'Do you think my judgment is that bad?'

Even now, it makes me wring my hands with annoyance. Of course, I thought his judgment terrible, but you can't just tell a prince that. Feeling trapped by my indecisiveness, I said, 'No, of course not, Your Highness,' but I did, at least, say, 'It's only that I should like to feel that I am competent in this position and providing something of use to the court.'

'You are of use to the court as an orator.' He followed with a mumble to himself, too quiet for me to hear.

That response stung a little, but I kept my tone calm and said, 'I am, as best I can. I think that if I'm being leveraged into a position with influence, I should like to know better how to use that influence to help people within the kingdom. I would hate to ruin the reputation you four have already strived so hard to create.'

I think he must have liked that response because he smiled a little- though he quickly tried to hide it- and said, 'You aren't keen to let this go, are you?'

Embarrassed, I said, 'I will if it's a bother to you.'

He sighed, seeing through my half-hearted, though truthful statement. 'I didn't say that.' There was a slight lilt in his voice, somehow soft but still regal. 'You should shadow the others and myself,' he decided, 'I will have each of them set aside books relevant to their work that they think would help you. You do still like to read, yes?'

That question surprised me because I didn't think he would remember much about me. I guess that is expected of him to remember small details of every family as a kingdom's heir. I recovered from my surprise enough to respond, 'Yes, I do. That's a very kind offer, thank you,' and bowed.

I didn't know what else to do the first few weeks at court. There's no ceremony for becoming an advisor, no trial or test to pass. They never even announced it to the court at large beyond informing a few impacted parties and kissing the hands of nobles irritated by an imaginary slight. For me, it was reading, interspersed with meetings with the other advisors. I like Luta very much because she reminds me of Simona, all brightness and energy. I helped her with some of the medicine preparations for this winter, mostly writing things down as she made decisions. She's very swift at deciding things, and the people of the castle trust in her judgment. Emerys is a very kind host, but his duties are rather martial, so I was very little help to him. I never knew what kind of regimen the wardens went through each day, though, so I suppose I now have a new perspective on that. Alden seemed very bothered by my presence, and we mostly sat quietly while he went through the week's finances for the castle. I slipped out as soon as I was able, and I think he was relieved by that.

I never got to shadow the prince as he was too busy, but he sometimes visited while I was reading to check on how I was settling into the castle and to answer any questions I came across as I read through historical texts and perused kingdom maps. Because of Baba, there was much I already knew, but the books were still exciting and offered curiosities. I'd like to say Prince Braum seemed very impressed with my knowledge of the kingdom's history and political arrangements in our discussions, but maybe he was just being polite.

There was one day I found very odd as he came to ask me a question about the Langstrom province. He wanted to know what routes were available for transportation to the castle. It took me a few days to find the information, but when he visited again, I showed him the most recent map of the province and the road I thought they were most likely to take.

'Good work,' he told me, looking over the map, 'I learned that the Langstrom nobility hasn't been invited to winter's fête in years, and I think it's time we amend that. I wanted to ensure there was a direct route for our delegation to bring the invitation and gifts, and it seems there is.' He looked very pleased with my findings, and I only nodded in response.

I must have had some look on my face because he probed insightfully, saying, "Is there something more you'd like to add?"

Of course, I denied any further opinions, but on his insistence, I said, 'It's nothing, really, it's just ... Can you move that book so I can lay these out? I found several other maps with inconsistencies in road layouts and-' I laid out a book and pointed to a scrawling series of lines in a ledger, '-it also seems that in the last two years, they've had several delays in shipments to and from their province. I think their roads haven't been properly cared for in quite some time, causing them hardship. Rather than gifts, I think investing in their roads would be more prudent as a show of goodwill. Additionally-' It was at this point that I set a Langstrom historical account I had found in the royal library on top of the maps. 'The Langstroms were disallowed from the fête because an Audric jarl attempted to court a Langstrom hersir and was spurned. The whole affair was an overblown response to a childish tiff. You might want to apologize first because it might offend them to receive an invitation without an accompanying apology.'

It was only after finishing my impassioned speech that I realized what and who I had said it to. Even now, my face turns bright red with embarrassment.

I was afraid because he was quiet, carefully reading the documents to verify my claims. He made a soft noise from barely parted lips, and then, finally, he said, 'You've saved me from a blunder in oversight.' He smiled at me, a timid smile that mimicked my own. 'Thank you. I'll tell Alden to make arrangements at once.'

Then he made a face I've never seen on the prince's face since stepping into his inner court. It was ... soft at first, and then focused and sharp. Like I was a painting, and he a captivated patron. And then he said, 'I'm glad you're here, Elodie.'

* * *

She passed the day this way and the next one as well. Fen accompanied her each day. On the second day, he resumed his guard duty, but an hour into his self-imposed watch, he plodded over to the pillow and laid down at Elodie's knees. The stick remained a stick, but Thalia insisted it was a process that took time and that Elodie would know when it was complete. At the end of each day, she sent Braum another fairy to update those back at the castle on her progress, insisting that she was coming home soon.