Deep within the winding hallways of the Seat’s palace is a small room, with very high walls. Each wall, including the wall with the entry door, is covered with bookcases, scrolls, and in many cases, small platforms. Each platform is just wide enough to hold a diminutive sized princess. On the ground floor of this bookish jungle, is a small desk. The desk, while small in horizontal area, is very tall. Twenty nine drawers are divided between the left, right, back, front and sides. All the drawers have locks, and all the drawers show extreme amount of use and abuse.

Today, the princess, while sitting 5 bookcases up, watches a small bird fly in through the upper windows. The tiny bonded circles three times before landing on her shoulder.

The bird looks like a common wren at first glance. However, on second glance, the astute observer will note that the color of the bird is constantly changing, adapting to the environment around it…until, it just disappears from view.

“Ah, what do you have for me today Swan.”

It should be noted, I never wanted to be a princess. It’s not like I had a choice, or desire to be something other than a bookworm. I have realized, however, that being a princess, allows me to read and watch the story of the world write itself…from afar…isolated. I can get spice cookies whenever I like, and I can read as much as I want. There is the aspect of political duties, but thankfully, my younger sister is quite adept at this form of public entertainment.

Having spent much of my early life hidden in the shadows, I realized, I have a talent for shadows. A Parity shadow master is the label my father’s educators put on me. Trained from 14 years old to assume the role of the King’s Shadow Master...and so, I killed my first person at 16. After seeing the manipulative bitch con various people out of wealth, position, and marriages, it was not a difficult kill. The kingdom would have fallen should she had lived.

By 18, I had killed 17 more people.Each was a problem, either in the short term or long term.Most were not good people, some were just “mislead”.They all needed to go.

By 22, I no longer had to consult with my father on removals. It was better if he didn’t know. Three were gentleman trying to seduce my younger sister via drugs. I castrated each of them, while they were quite awake, and still, quite alive. I feed their bodies to the beast pits, and planted fake trails heading to Juniliple. They are much more tolerant of male lovers there, and their previous female escapades were written off as overcompensation. I don’t think anyone ever caught on that I used a plot from novel written 15 years ago called ‘Shackle and Chains’. I still find it funny.

Removing the small note attached to my bird, I begin the complicated process of decoding.It’s a simple cypher.Grab a young lovers novel, pick a page and encode the letter you want by counting from the top of the page till you hit the same letter. It can be a long process to encode, but decoding is fairly quick.The letters have unique marks that tell me which book to use, which is unique for each of my…people.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I use a relay station in a small village just north of the Seat.It is run by one of my friends…an old maid I had as a child.This was her retirement, but I think the intrigue keeps her going more than stitching clothes for her grandchildren.The relay birds come in to her, and she then consolidates the messages into one.Once a day, I send my beautiful bond out to gather the messages.My bond is not only one of the stealthiest animals the continent, it is also very, very fast.

So what do we have today, I wonder.Duke Wannerlin and Duke Kutz are up to no good again.Father should have heard about the plot from Carter this morning, so no need there.The problem is too big for me, too many people to kill.I needed to bump this up to someone who could manipulate a more encompassing solution.

A couple affairs, nothing uncommon…maybe an unwanted pregnancy…but considering they don’t have a lot of children to begin with, a welcome problem I would imagine. I will need to note the true father though, can’t have houses joined through a brother and sister…bad for everyone really.

Ah, I have finally found where that woman is keeping the bodies. I thought it might be her teenage son, but the boy didn’t feel like the type. His mother though, yes…oh what to do.

I hop down a couple platforms to my desk and begin to scribble a note to Veronica. She has done really well on this investigation. I will need to give her some time off. It can’t be easy with that idiot of a husband, ah…but maybe this is her release of stress…not sure, I will schedule a trip and check up on her.

Lighting the candle and sealing the order, I take the time to burn the other messages and then blow out the candle. The smoke rises slowly in this warren of books. Just at the peak of the ceiling, a gentle breeze comes through the windows, and the smoke wafts quickly out. There is some beauty there, in the trail of smoke. It reminds of the shadow essence that suffuses the room. Spiriling to an unseen wind, stirred by shafts of light. It really is a beautiful day.

Just as my thoughts drift to what book I am going to read for the day, a black darter comes…well, comes darting in. And there goes my day. A black message sits upon the bird’s leg. I quickly untie the message and read. The message is not encoded, but after reading it, I understand. Everyone will know about this by the end of the week.

Getting up quickly, I grab a pull rope and begin ringing the tower bell. Ten minutes later, Carter knocks on my door. I know it’s Carter, because anyone who makes it up to this tower, that is not my father or Carter, would have been executed on the stairs.

“Come in!”Professionally, Carter opens the door, closes the door,and turns back to me.

“What is up little pigeon?” If you had met Carter when my father was around, you would think him to be the perfect servant. The reality is that he is a killer, and he was the original Shadow Master of the Seat.

When I was training my essence abilities, he trained me. He was not nice. In fact, he was uncommonly cruel. It took years for me realize that I was taking a position that required this level of cruelty and dual personality. Knowing my love of books, he was the one that suggested I turn the pigeon tower into a library. For that, I love the old man. I think I was around 15 when he first proposed the idea. Both my father and him had decided that I was not going to be the ideal political princess. With my abilities, and my penchant for being left well enough alone…Shadow Master of Seat worked that best.

Taking the note, I hand it to him. He took a brief glance, turns, and exits the room. I will need to clean up a little before father comes. He will probably want to sit in my seat while he is here. Taking a small broom and pail, I sweep the desk clear of ash and bread crumbs. I will leave the cheese, it will give him something to nibble on while he comes up with a plan.