Creel

Even as Creel raced away, her mind was already turning. She was never one to sit still, and her thoughts were included. Already she had taken Crane’s bizarre story and tried to rationalize it a dozen different ways. If indeed she had made up the story, then Crane was very desperate. But for what?

But if she hadn't been making it up. . .?

She wasn't - couldn't be - related to a Lowlander. Creel let the wind blow into her face, hoping, somehow, that it might blow away this mess. If only she'd never met Cadrin and his sister. Her life would be simpler and she wouldn't be half-torn whether or not to turn them in.

Just because she looks like you and says you're sisters doesn't mean you feel sorry for her.

But somehow she couldn't help being just a little bit hesitant.

No! I am a Royal Loyal. I serve Lord Forden, and his wish is my command. If that's the arrest of Crane, so be it.

Resolute, Creel spurred her horse towards Oncore.

* ●●

Lord Forden’s gaze seemed to pin Creel to the wall. Lady Descrah and Sheena stood nearby.

“So you didn't manage to bring the boy or the girl back?” He said, examining his finger nails.

“Um… no.” Had that been the mission?

“I trust you have something of interest to report, at least? Their base? Their next plan of attack? Anything?”

Creel cleared her throat. “None of that, milord.”

“Then why did I even send you?” He demanded.

Creel sighed. “Because, milord. I did find something that you might find… interesting.”

Lord Forden raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Crane Nightcrest has been harboring dragons in her house in direct defiance of your decree.”

Lord Forden blinked, clenched his jaw, and took a deep breath. “She what?!” he burst out. His face grew red.

Creel, unprepared for this response, took a step back. “She… she is harboring dragons, milord.”

Lord Forden growled. “She is going to pay for this offense. Why? What is she doing with them? Raising an army, perhaps?”

“I don't know, milord.” Creel looked away from his steely gaze.

“Well then, under my command, I order the arrest and execution of this Crane Nightcrest.”

“Milord? May I suggest…?” Creel asked hesitantly.

“Yes?” Forden snapped.

“I believe that using her brother might be greater motivation for her. She cares deeply for him. He is also the one who attacked Lady Sheena.”

Lord Forden nodded, and a smile crept over his face. “Very well.” Creel shivered.

Sheena cleared her throat. “Father, may I be excused, please? This conversation bores me, and I have other things to do.”

Lady Descrah tsked. “Sheena, dear, it's not polite to interrupt.”

Sheena curtsied. “Pardon me.”

Lord Forden smiled at Sheena. “You may go, darling.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Thank y-”

“Descrah, would you go take her to the great hall? I think there's plenty of clothes to be mended.”

Sheena flushed. “Oh, but Father-”

Descrah frowned. “No talking back, dear. Come on.”

Creel watched Descrah pull Sheena away, and she caught a glimpse of dark desperation in Sheena's eyes. She shivered again.

“You are dismissed, Creel.” Lord Forden said coldly. “I have much to do.”

There was much going on that she didn't know, and as she left the library, Creel had the feeling she was only breaking the surface.

* ●●

It was a restless wait in her room as the afternoon dragged by. Finally, stir-crazy, Creel slipped back into the library.

It's been forever since I've read a book.

She wandered the rows of shelves back and forth, running her hand along the book spines, breathing in the glorious scent, flipping pages as they rustled pleasingly. She was happy and distracted-

Until her eyes fell on Lord Forden’s desk, that is.

Every tiny doubt she'd shoved down rose up now in a clamor of voices. Creel groaned indecisively and glanced back at the library door. Could she manage to hide if someone entered?

But of course, she was never one to sit still. She approached the desk and the mounds of papers lying on it. A sconce was burning on the wall next to the desk, casting a pool of orange light on the documents.

Curiosity - that vensgone inquisitiveness inside her - overtook all rationality.

Creel settled herself on the chair and began to sort through the mounds of paper. The one on top was nothing more than legal ramblings that made Creel’s head hurt. The one underneath that was a sheet of the monthly taxes that had come in - at least she thought it was. She was terrible at math and legal stuff.

Creel shoved the top dozen papers aside and dug into the older bottom ones. Nothing helpful had emerged so far. She jumped at the slightest shift of the floorboards, afraid that any second she'd look up into the scowling face of Lord Forden. She could only imagine what he might do if he found her going through his personal papers.

Which led her thoughts back to Jasa. She still hadn't confronted that sneaky little ambassador.

No. There will be time for that later.

Creel yanked her thoughts away from anything but finding answers.

The papers were getting older and more brittle as she went further down.

Well, I guess if anything, I learned that Lord Forden doesn't keep a clean desk.

The stale smell of the ancient papers made Creel wrinkle her nose and try not to sneeze. Surely she had to be getting close to something.

What was it she was even looking for?

Proof.

But of what?

Of my family, Creel admitted to herself. Anything to show that I'm not related to them.

Because if she was…

Creel shoved away the thought and huffed in frustration. She abandoned the papers on top of the desk and rustled through the papers in the drawers. The papers here seemed the oldest of all of them, fadedI a dry brown and crackling when Creel picked them up.

Here we go. This looks like some sort of journal.

She began to read. First came something about the unrest of the Lowlanders, and how he needed to quell the uprisings before they discovered the truth and revolted.

The truth?

Creel had a feeling she knew exactly what the “truth” was. She forced herself to keep reading.

And she saw it, the fourteenth paragraph down. Her hands began to shake.

《 Today I had to finish off some more Lowlander insurrectionists. They had three children, a boy and two girls, twins. In order to keep the peace, I took one of them. Should their children carry on their legacy, I can use their sister against them as an ultimatum for keeping the peace throughout the Tri-Kingdoms and Seven Cities.》

Creel felt sick as she read. It couldn't be.

Please don't let it be.

《Later in the day, my spy informed me that this is Cara Nightcrest. Of course, she can't keep the name. I've always favored the name Creel. Descrah and I shall raise her to be ultimately loyal to royals, perhaps as bodyguard to our daughter. She will always think of the Lowlanders as traitors, and so peace shall be kept, for if the need arises, she is my bargaining chip.》

Creel almost lost the contents of her very large breakfast. So that's what she was all along. A bargaining chip?!

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. They'd snatched her, as a baby, in order to use her to keep the peace. As a baby! Tears threatened, but she pushed them back.

She had to think. What could she say - or do? How could she walk around, now knowing her true purpose, and act even remotely polite to the Sorynnas?

Creel gasped and bolted from the room. She had to stop Lord Forden from arresting Crane. She burst into the great hall where Sheena and Descrah sat mending a dress.

“Where's Lord Forden?” She demanded wildly.

Lady Descrah looked up, startled. “He's already gone.”