Indenuel returned home from his sword training ready to enjoy dinner. Captain Luiz allowed him to practice late, considering the High Elders wouldn’t let him leave his home until midafternoon. The good thing about it was that it gave him an appetite. After eating as much as he could from what Sara brought that morning, he had no trouble making a dent out of the multiple platters the servants had given him. Pablo walked in, giving a bow.
“A letter for you, sir,” he said, handing him a letter. It was heavy and covered in an envelope. His name was scrawled on it in impeccable handwriting.
“Who’s it from?” Indenuel asked, flipping it around to break the seal.
“It’s from a carrier, sir. I believe it’s from Captain Nathaniel,” Pablo said.
Indenuel was surprised before his heart started to pound. “Oh, right. Thank you, Pablo.” He’d almost forgotten he’d written last week. So many things had happened since then. He walked into his study, figuring this was as good a place as any to read a letter. He struggled a bit with the envelop to get it open, but once he had he pulled out the paper, he felt all the nerves come back to him.
Indenuel,
Let me begin my asking forgiveness for my own sins first, shall we? I had assumed since Inessa was my father’s concubine, he would be the one to inform you of her, as well as her position in our house. I realized, judging by your mannerisms and distinct lack of questions about her as you opened up to me more, that he had not. I did not know the extent of your understanding of the concubine law, and I did not volunteer the information, partially out of hatred of the law myself. I cannot deny the financial help it has brought hundreds of people, but it is at the cost of these young women’s lives, both physically, mentally, and spiritually. It is something no young women should ever be asked to go through to make sure their families are off the streets with food in their bellies, and I’ve had many conversations with my father about it. I am ashamed to admit that though I have been vocal to my father about my hatred for this law, I have treated Inessa as though she isn’t there, as my mother is adamant we act that way around her. I do not want to disappoint my mother, even if it has isolated poor Inessa. It is easier, with me being gone so much, but I willingly admit it is a disgraceful mark on my character. I do hope you will forgive me, and I will strive to do better.
As for the other things in your letter, I must say it is, sadly, refreshing to hear someone have the same ideas about the High Elders as I do.
Indenuel couldn’t help it. He let out a quick breath before glancing around the room. There was no one else in the room but Tolomon, but he still needed to check before he kept reading.
It may be strange, hearing that from the son of a High Elder, but it is true. I must emphasize I love the word of God. I attend sermons every Sabbath day and am enlightened by what I hear, which makes seeing the flaws of these High Elders so jarring. It happened when I was younger, when my father became one. He was, and still is, a wonderful father, and a man I strive to be like, but I cannot deny a shift happened shortly after he became High Elder. There is a weight on his shoulders that was never there before. My mother shrugged it off as the typical weight of such a noble calling, but I know it’s something else. I didn’t realize what it was until I came home from battle and saw the same haunted look in my father as there were in the soldiers who had been asked to fight in the bloodiest battles of the war. There is something going on in the High Elders that has created this look. Maybe it is the golden memories of childhood, but an innocence died when my father received his robes, and he has not looked the same since. There is of course the concubine law I hate, but there must be other things as well.
Despite my relief that your letter showed such honesty, I fear my inadequacies at getting my own thoughts down. See, I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps and try getting into politics, but I swiftly learned it wasn’t for me. I wanted to be able to defend the truth with my entire being, but, apparently, absolute truth isn’t found in politics. The mind games and the riddles hurt my head, and I ran away, so to speak, from the idea that two opposing ideals could both be considered a truth. I entered the military where I knew I could at least defend the truth this way, but, as I’ve come to learn, there isn’t a clear right and wrong in the military just as there isn’t one in politics. There are too many people with their complex lives to fit into such easy boxes as “right” or “wrong,” even though I desperately want to. I know this gives you no answer, but it is a taste of my own struggles ever since my father was given this calling. Therefore, I give you no answer because I don’t have one for you. I truly wish I did. Your sentiment that there is a known evil and an unknown evil resonates with my soul.
What do you do from here? I’m assuming this is your main question, since you wrote me. What I said on our journey to Santollia City remains true. You must find your reason for fighting, or you will get lost. It is you, individually, who must make the choice. Forget whatever you’ve been told about an old prophet seeing your life and the outcome of it. You need to figure this out for yourself. But know this much: with your position you can do a lot of good for a lot of people. If I was faced with a familiar evil or an unfamiliar one, I would choose the familiar evil to work on making that good again, because that is something within my power I could change for the better. People rarely listen to me when I am considered their enemy but are far more willing to listen if I am their friend, first. Among this same line of logic, I keep people close who are not afraid to point out my shortcomings to help me be better, which is why I value your friendship so much.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
-Nathaniel
Indenuel gathered the papers together before dropping them on the desk. He rubbed his forehead, looking at Tolomon.
“Do you feel better?” Tolomon asked.
Nathaniel’s letter was right. Despite everything, he couldn’t be focused on what he couldn’t fix. He needed to work within Santollia now to make it a better place, and his position gave him the ability to do that. “That man has God-like powers.”
Tolomon snorted. “You want to be a better person?”
“I do. And he told me how I can.”
Tolomon snorted again. “It’s disgusting, isn’t it.”
“Completely disgusting.” He smiled as he leaned back, staring at the letter. He had no idea how to stop Kiam, but he could help the High Elders do better. Reform them, in a way. Though it might be easier if he was friends with them first. The thought of becoming friends with Fadrique was almost laughable, but he was already friends with Martin. He would start there. His mind lingered on Adosina. When she left this afternoon, there was a terseness between them he didn’t like. She told him about Elias, and he didn’t treat it well. He ought to apologize. It’s what Nathaniel would have done.
***
Indenuel sighed as he gripped the flowers in his sweaty palms as the carriage stopped in front of Martin’s home. He had finished training with Martin and had gone home for lunch before returning to talk to Adosina. Indenuel had asked Martin about it, and he seemed far too pleased for him to visit Adosina. He refused to tell him why he wanted to visit her. Martin wasn’t certain of her schedule but ushered him on his way all the same.
Indenuel climbed out and headed toward the front door. Tolomon remained behind as Derio opened the door and bowed.
“Hello, Warrior Indenuel. An honor to have you stop by. How may we serve you?”
“Is Adosina home? I would like to speak with her,” Indenuel said, feeling ridiculous as he strangled the flowers in his hands.
“She has gone with her mother to do some house calls, but if you would like, I could alert her that you are here and have her come home shortly,” Derio said.
“Oh.” He wasn’t expecting this. He had been so busy preparing his apology he didn’t stop to consider she wouldn’t be home.
Derio cleared his throat. “The staff is preparing a late lunch for them, and the lady of the house reported she will be home shortly. If you’d like, you can wait for them here.”
“Yes,” Indenuel said. “Yes, that’s a good idea. I will wait for them here.”
Derio nodded and stepped aside. “You may wait in whatever room you choose. The sitting room is nice this time of day, or the library has books you may peruse at your leisure.”
“Thank you, I will take a look at the library.” Indenuel walked into the house.
“Would you like me to put those flowers in a vase for you?” Derio asked.
At this point, Indenuel simply handed the flowers over to Derio to save the poor plants before wiping his hands on his jacket, only thinking after they had dried that it was probably bad manners. It was times like this where he became aware how little he knew about social etiquette. Derio understood better how to act as a nobleman than he did.
“What are your intentions with the flowers, Warrior Indenuel?” Derio asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you planning on pursuing the young lady’s favor? Ask her something? Depending on the reason will depend on the vase,” Derio said. “There is a subtle art of gift giving.”
“Right, um, I plan on apologizing,” Indenuel said.
“I know just the vase.”
Indenuel couldn’t help but look surprised. “Does Martin have a large variety of vases for a wide variety of purposes?”
The smallest crack of a smile appeared on Derio’s face. “When married, it is best to be prepared.”
“That is sound advice for every class.”
Derio bowed as he pointed the way to the library before disappearing into a different part of the house. Indenuel went down that general direction, but it didn’t take long for him to get lost. Tolomon had to point out the library to him. Martin had given him a tour the first time he was here, but in a house this large, he completely forgot.
They entered the vast library, Indenuel’s footsteps creaking against the beautiful hardwood floor beneath. True, it wasn’t the High Elder’s library, but he still entered the room with a sort of reverence. To have this many books in one place was a strange sight for him. He didn’t think a person could read so many books in a lifetime. Indenuel walked over to one of the shelves, looking at the titles. They all looked like philosophy and political books, all of the authors he had never heard of. He picked one off the shelf, running his fingers through the pages. The book looked clean and crisp.
The door opened and Inessa walked in. Indenuel turned, panicking as though he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. She dropped to a curtsey, holding her lime green skirts in her fists.
“Forgive me for startling you, Warrior Indenuel. Head servant Derio informed me of your visit, and as I am the only one of the household here, I would like to formally welcome you to our home and ask if there is anything you desire?”