Chapter 1316: A boy’s duty(3)
They both sat upon the green, swaying grass. Unseen bugs were almost certainly making a highway of their legs as they lingered in that heavy silence, but neither of them moved.
Basil realized he had been entirely wrong in his approach. Fishing for words from a locked chest was useless if you didn’t have the key. What he needed to dangle before her was not a question, but an interest. And in her small, hollowed-out world, there was only a single thing that commanded her absolute attention, as it stood.
Her father.
At that exact moment, Basil thanked every god in the heavens for his own messy, hoarding habits. He began rummaging through the leather pouch he kept strapped to his belt, digging past , even he did not know, until his fingers brushed against a thick parchment he recalled very well. It was one of the many scrap-papers he had used to scribble down, rearrange, and violently cross out the names of candidates for the southern offices. The thing had been crammed into his pouch for gods knew how long, folded and creased into a tight, miserable little square.
He set to work flattening it out against his thigh, smoothing over the wrinkles as best he could. He didn’t accomplish a very neat job of it, but the ragged look only helped the illusion.
"Are you worried about Uncle Laedio? Because I am, too," Basil said suddenly, shattering the quiet. "He is currently leading a very dangerous mission in my father’s stead."
As expected, Mesea didn’t utter a sound. But Basil was a prince trained to watch the faces of lords; he didn’t miss the sudden, tiny twitch in her brow.
"He is currently putting Oizen’s worst criminals to the rope with his blue-cloaks, and the reports say he is doing a magnificent job of it," Basil continued, casually lifting the crumpled, names-stained piece of paper. "He actually wrote directly to me. A personal letter. I haven’t even had the chance to read it yet... do you want to do it together?"
He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but he actually got a genuine, physical reaction out of her. Her head snapped away from the city gates , the position it had been frozen in for hours, and she fixed her dull, brown eyes directly onto the parchment.
"Do you know how to read?" Basil asked softly.
Her gaze shifted smoothly from the letter up to his eyes. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t look away either.
"Do you want me to read it aloud for you?"
She gave a single, small, almost imperceptible nod of her head.
It was an immense stroke of luck that the girl was illiterate; she clearly had no concept of what a proper letter looked like, otherwise she would have immediately noticed how strange it was for a royal dispatch to consist of messy rows of crossed-out names and numbers.
No matter.
Basil cleared his throat with a theatrical cough, carefully tilting the back of the parchment toward himself so she couldn’t see the scribbles, and began to brilliantly bullshit on the spot. He pitched his voice lower, doing his absolute best to mimic the gruff yet warm cadence of Uncle Laedio:
"To my dear boy.
Things down here in the south are incredibly hard and utterly boring. For the love of the gods, I cannot touch a drop of good wine or find a single moment to enjoy myself. I organize grueling patrols during the day, and I lead bloody raids into the brush during the night. I will not soil your young ears with overly grand stories about my own immense prowess, but I have heroically defended your family’s new domain from the vermin that plague it.
I have faced them all, and I have laid absolute waste to every sort of criminal that dared make an unholy living under the King’s watch. Still, my heavy efforts have not been entirely wasted; I have finally brought some loose resemblance of civility to this barbarian place. Those small numbers of curs who managed to hide from my wrath do not dare act as presumptuously as they did before. They prefer to do their dirty work in the deep shadows now, and they molest our garrisons no more.
That is no matter. Their time under the gallows will come soon enough.
But enough of my bloody work, which I am sure will bore you, given the magnitude of stories your father no doubt entertain you with. I have read your last dispatch, and I thank you deeply for the genuine effort you are making with my dear daughter, Mesea. It was my fondest hope before I marched that she would make a fine friend out of you. She is a mostly taciturn creature, I know, but at her core, she is a remarkably good and kind girl. I hope that in time, you will come to see this truth just as I do.
Also, I must thank you for the wonderful basket of fresh fruits you sent down. They were a magnificent change from the gray, salted blob the camp cooks force us to eat down here. I would be most profoundly thankful if you could provide me with another basket soon. Unfortunately, that massive thief Edric ate nearly all of the sweet oranges before I could even wash the road-dust from my throat.
So, if you could manage to send more, and perhaps of a different variety, your uncle would be in your debt. There isn’t much choice of food here, and we labor terribly hard for the sake of your father’s crown. You could say it is your princely duty to ensure your loyal servants are provided with better accommodations, since your father clearly failed to."
Basil paused, stealing a glance over the top of the paper to see if his grand performance had actually taken root.It was working, as she was gazing at the letter as if it held the secret of the universe. When he stopped reading, she clearly signalled at him with her eyes.
"But enough of my grumbling, and more of you. I would be most profoundly happy to read of what you have been laboring over in these days, and even more joyful if Mesea’s name were to appear in those stories. Whatever the case, I know you are trying your absolute best with her, and I hope you will keep at it for my sake, if nothing else.
Speaking of my dear girl, how is she taking my absence? I confess I have been most terribly worried, and I keep thinking of her constantly during my days. Unfortunately, this godsforsaken place is no fit country for a young child to visit, so I hope you can manage to distract her as much as you possibly can. I have been thinking of giving her a small gift upon my return to court.
I was perhaps thinking of a small, white rabbit from the valleys, which I think she would absolutely adore. I would highly value your counsel on this matter, nephew, as I believe you are far more experienced with what young ladies prefer than an old soldier like myself.
I hope you are having a much better time up in the capital than I am down here in the mud. I thank you once more for your great effort with Mesea, and I eagerly await your next letter.
My warmest greetings, Your Uncle, Laedio.
P.S. Make absolutely certain to pack some ripe pears in that fruit basket as well, and make sure the horse-courier knows perfectly well that he is to deliver said basket directly into my hands, and not leave it anywhere near Edric’s hand, the previous one had no such concept."
Basil slowly lowered the creased parchment, smoothing it down against his knee with a deliberate, theatrical finality. He let out a soft breath, as if he had just finished delivering a solemn decree before the King’s high council, and turned his head to look at the girl.
At long last, it seemed the girl was finally looking at him as if he were an actual, living person instead of just another mute tree in the garden. The dull, vacant and tired fog in her brown eyes had cleared as finally the light shined in her eyes.
Basil seized the moment before it could slip away.
"So," the Prince said, throwing a casual glance toward the the edge of the terrace. "What do you say? Would you like to come with me to the orchard to help fill that basket of fruits for your father? There are some fine orange trees just a short walk from here, and the pears are practically begging to be picked in the kitchen."
Mesea didn’t move immediately, her fingers lightly bunching the fabric of her smock.
"I am quite sure," Basil added, softening his voice "that Uncle Laedio would be most delighted to know that the very fruit he is eating down south was picked directly from your own hands. We can even pack it ourselves and tell the carrier proper, so Edric can’t steal a single bite. We could even make a letter, where we tell him what gift he is to make, of course we will keep that secret and fake a surprise when he delivers it to you."
He watched her intently. For a second, he feared the stone walls of her silence would pull her back under. But then, slowly, she shifted her weight on the grass. She didn’t speak a word, but she gave another nod, firmer this time, and actually began to push herself up to her feet.
Exhilaration flooded Basil’s chest. He felt a triumphant grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was a small victory, perhaps, but a victory nonetheless, the first really he may ever had.
As for the first time since he had known her , Mesea wanted to do something that didn’t involve standing frozen like a ghost, silently watching the distant gates of the city.
Ineed , he had found the key to the lock.
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