She pulled it down and flipped to the last page.

It was filled with names, birth dates, death dates, marriage dates, and places where a person’s entire life history could be recorded in just a few paragraphs.

It was the family registry.

If you wanted to be closely tied to the main family, you had to prove one of your parents was related to the head of the house. Or get yourself adopted from a collateral line closer into the main line.

Even for a barony, people worked surprisingly hard to be added to the registry.

This was because if you were acknowledged as a family member of the nobility, it gave you an opportunity to either be knighted, marry higher up, or receive a viscount title of your own.

Politics.

There were a few places where being of noble blood was becoming less and less a factor in whether your skill and effort was acknowledged. But they were rare.

Em started flipping the pages back slowly. Reading names and looking for her great uncle’s line. Since her father had had only sisters, the local Marquis or the Duke would have to name an heir from that uncle’s family instead of her father’s family.

It really sucked how little attention were paid to the girls.

If their boys wanted to be ‘part of the family’ they usually had to go through the adoption process. But it wouldn’t affect the line of succession at all. Even if they were adopted into a nearer family, they’d get skipped for another relative.

“Bingo!”

She tapped a finger on the page. Grinning.

Then the doorknob rattled.

Em froze for only a split second before she dove around the desk and underneath. Crap, crap, crap, crap, she chanted in her mind. The chant started as soon as she realized that if the person coming in sat down, they’d know she was there immediately.

Heck! If they came around the desk, they’d know she was there. They only needed to look down.

“... It was a good deal. One of the best offers Emmaline could ever hope to get. She should be grateful I’m looking after her best interests.”

“Deal?”

She froze again and held her breath.

Em knew that other voice. Though she hadn’t heard it even once since becoming Emmaline.

So, Felix succeeded. She didn’t know how, but he succeeded.

“Poor choice of word,” said Felix soothingly. She could hear him hurrying to the desk. “Of course I don’t think of it that way. This is all for Emmaline’s sake.”

She was dead. Just a few more steps…

But instead of going around the desk, there was a brief pause as papers rustled above her.

“Take a look at the contract. She’ll be getting a large home, plenty of servants, jewels-”

“She has a home. Why does she need these things now?”

“Brother, in case you haven’t noticed from my reports, we’re losing money. The crops have been poor for two years now, which has impoverished our local economy. Add to that, our investments keep failing.”

“Your investments.”

“Which is why I’m trying to secure Emmaline’s future. If this trend keeps going, by the time of her debut no man will look at her. Then what will happen to her? Do you wish her confined to a nunnery or forced to learn a trade?”

There was a short silence. Then the unmistakable sound of paper being ripped.

“What are you doing!?”

“She’s too young to be getting married, even with guardian approval. I’ll send funds to cover the deficits. Get rid of this.”

There was a small thud and Em squirmed around with the book clutched to her chest. Wishing she could see through the back of the desk.

“I can’t just get rid of it! It’s already in the approval process at the Palace-”

“How can it have gone that far without my signature?”

There was a long, heavy pause.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“You… idiot. Do you know what the penalty is for forging official documents?”

“I haven’t seen you since the funeral and you don’t answer my letters. I get all my information on your whereabouts and orders through messengers. What else was I supposed to do? Besides, I thought you’d be happy to be rid of the responsibility. Seeing how you’ve refused to-”

Slap! Thud!

Em slapped a hand over mouth to hide her gasp of surprise when she felt someone fall into the desk. Just inches from her face.

“When the memorial is over,” said the familiar voice coldly, “you and I will be going to the Palace. Together. Now, get out.”

“Get… This is my office!”

“No, this is my office. I just let you borrow it. Out.”

There was a long silence. In which Em could hear angry huffing on the other side of the desk’s thin wooden wall. Then, with a sound oddly like a growl, Felix got to his feet and stalked out.

Slamming the door behind him.

Em clutched the book tighter. Hands trembling and focusing on her breathing.

Keep it as quiet as a mouse. As quiet as a mouse.

No, quieter than a mouse. You can usually hear mice rustling around and she needed to be silent.

She heard someone moving toward the desk, and she stopped breathing altogether.

A head bent down to look at her.

The cold, chiseled features of her oldest brother. Unlike Em and Felix, he’d inherited his birth mother’s raven black hair. Making him an oddity in the family.

Flint Grimshaw.

The man who’d never smiled at her in any of Emmaline’s memories. Who rarely did more than grunt whenever she’d tried to talk to him.

A man who inspired thrills of fear in her stomach.

Because he reminded her of the bird monster shaped like a crow. Big, black, and scary.

In her head, time stopped. All she was aware of was his gaze and the way the book was digging into her chest from holding it so hard.

Then she couldn’t take it anymore. Her breath flew out in a whoosh and the spell broke.

“Emmaline,” he said coldly.

“I wasn’t spying!” Panicked, she held up the book. “I just wanted to borrow this, and you two came in and I heard you talking. But I wasn’t listening! I didn’t want to interrupt, you see, and-”

“Enough.”

Flint sighed and took the book from her. Then he put it on the desk and held out a hand.

She hesitated.

“Do you think it’s a snake that will bite you?”

“N-no.”

Hesitantly, she took the offered hand. His movements were careful, so she didn’t accidentally hit anything as he pulled her out from under the desk.

She saw his eyes flick to her trembling hand and he let it go. For an instant, neither of them moved or spoke.

Em looked at the ground. Hugging herself and waiting for his verdict.

Would he punish her for coming in here without permission? Felix would pretend good humor. But with her being openly hostile toward him, maybe it would be different.

“What were you looking for?”

“What?”

She looked up. Confused.

He tapped the book

“What were you looking for?”

Oh. She couldn’t tell him the truth. Convulsively, she squeezed her elbows harder.

“I-I wanted to see what year Mother and Father were married.”

“Couldn’t you have asked? Every servant here knows.”

“I-I wanted to, uh, see Father’s handwriting…”

It sounded so lame!

She looked down again. Biting her lip. It was stupid! All of this was just a dream. Yet she could feel her body reacting like a child overwhelmed with emotion. Tears, confusion, wanting to run…

There was some rustling, and she looked up again to see that Flint had opened the book and was flipping through. Then he stopped and turned it toward her.

Finley Grimshaw married Marge Pearson, year 345.

In her Father’s handwriting.

She wiped away a tear.

“Thank you.”

Flint closed the book and took it back to the bookshelf. Em wiped another tear, watching him.

That had been… an unexpected reply to her intrusion. And it made her feel calmer, somehow.

“Am I really going to marry the Marquis?”

She hadn’t meant to ask. Actually, she knew the answer. As long as the signature was proven to be fake, the wedding wouldn’t happen. Not now or in the future.

It suddenly occurred to her they might not prove it to be fake once both brothers were dead.

That’s not good…

“Absolutely not.” Flint shoved the book back on the shelf. There was… anger behind the answer and she shrank back a step when she saw his face.

He took a deep breath and smoothed his expression.

“That bas-the honorable Marquis,” he said, sarcastically, “not only has one foot in the grave but is a known pedophile. I don’t know what my idiot- I don’t know what Felix was thinking. You’ll be staying here, so think nothing of it.”

“Oh.”

“Now.” He pointed to the door. “I have work to do.”

Dismissed, she left the office. Then stood in the hallway and stared at the wall.

Baffled.

And half wondering if that really just happened.

After Em left, Flint sat heavily in the desk chair and looked around. His eyes lingering on the things that Felix had changed about this room.

With a grunt and a shake of his head, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ‘thing’ the Princess had given him.