Ninean dropped the letter on the tabletop and stared out at the backyard while she tried to digest the bombshell her mother had left her.

Could any of it be true? It certainly sounded like Cyrene had believed what she had written. Ninean felt no different, aside from the fact that she no longer felt nauseous, but she put that down to the tea. All her life, Ninean had believed in parallel worlds, so how could she discount the letter just because it sounded a little crazy? One either believed, or they didn’t.

She nodded to herself. Yes, she believed. Extending that belief to the letter seemed logical.

So it followed that she believed herself to be the illegitimate daughter of an Emperor who had been an asshole to her mother. That wasn’t so farfetched, really. There were countries that were run by leaders with crappy interpersonal skills, and they produced children all the time. Some that were acknowledged, and some that weren’t.

But to accept that she’d been born in another universe, realm, whatever, seemed a little crazy while she sat in a solarium watching a squirrel bury something in the backyard. The pots of marigolds on a nearby shelf gave off an earthy perfume. She could see the spears of purple lavender in the raised bed against the western edge of the yard. Those things were real.

But who was she to say that Uclandia wasn’t?

Ninean sat in the solarium, watching the squirrel and thinking for a long time. Finally, she decided there was only one way to know if it was all real or not.

Take up the dagger, draw blood, and wish to be in Uclandia.

But if she assumed Uclandia could be reached, the question remained, did she want to return?

If her father really had wanted to believe an apparently false prophecy, and he really had demanded that her mother get rid of her, he would likely not be thrilled to see her now. If he even still lived.

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Ninean was forty years old. Her mother had mentioned the Emperor had been young. If he had been in decent health, and not died in battle or by assassination, he might well still be alive. Did she want to stir up old wounds? What if he was still an arrogant ass?

Ninean stood and stretched. On one hand, there wasn’t much keeping her here now. She had no partner, no children, and no pets. She worked freelance, so no one at work to miss her. And apparently, no family here either, now that Cyrene was gone. A little travel wouldn’t hurt her lifestyle. Even as she rinsed out her mug, the idea grew in the back of her mind. She assumed Uclandia was technology free, based on the letter. She doubted they had gone from tech-free to smartphones in forty years, anyway. So she would pack her leather pack with a few clothes, some food, a journal maybe. Then find the letter opener, no, dagger, and see if it would take her back. And after that? She would play the rest by ear.

Even if she decided not to introduce herself to her father, and Uclandia was the equivalent of a medieval land, Ninean had skills she could use there if she decided to stay. She had made custom knives, daggers, and the like over the years, albeit from pre-formed stock. Her mother had taught her enough about herbs and healing that her knowledge could be tapped for usefulness, as long as the plants there were somewhat familiar. The same went for foraging.

She wanted to leave her options open though, in case she decided to come back.

If she could come back.

Ninean made a phone call to her mother’s lawyer to make sure he’d be in and

made an appointment for later that day. Then she began to draft a rough document that would allow the lawyer to arrange for payment of property taxes and building maintenance. She didn’t want the cottage to fall into disrepair while she was away. By authorizing Mr. Owens to act in her stead, she knew she would at the very least have a home to return to if life in Uclandia didn’t work out.

The more she considered the potential of a brand new life in Uclandia, the more excited she got. The notes for the lawyer were brief, really just things she didn’t want to forget. Owens had been Cyrene’s lawyer for years. He was smart and thorough. Ninean knew he would point out anything she’d forgotten once she told him she was going traveling. She just wouldn’t tell him where. She made another list - this time of the things she wanted to take with her. Assuming Uclandia was even marginally similar to a medieval world, she would have to be careful not to take anything too modern that would arouse suspicion. Natural fibers, clothing without zippers, unpackaged food. The one thing she refused to leave behind was her pants. No matter what her homeland was like, she would not wear skirts and dresses. She just hoped that a dress code wasn’t a hanging offense there.

To be continued...