Glimpses 62

Honorable Maxwell Bitterly, I hope this letter finds you well.

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I’ve learned we are to be married.

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Where do I begin when you surely know more than I?

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Saying my memory is spotty would be a disservice to the professionals who worked on my condition. Nurse Magister Ratchet jokes about having me introduce her to the team who so thoroughly cut out the corruption with so little scarring, despite knowing I have no memory for almost the last year. My anger at having my memory removed with no chance of recovery is overshadowed by the assurances it was necessary to purge the unfathomable influences; tales of late-stage and untreated incursions were provided to give nightmares.

I remember up to the arrival of Duke Darren Gnomstock in Hazeldown to track down the theft of my brother's corpse, right up until the moment he welcomed me into his parlor with his staff.

My waking in a foreign land, alone, but for a stranger as a butler, a status revealing me as an heir, with levels that I’ve gained locked by my lack of experience, has been both a horror and a fairy tale.  The advances that this school has beggars what we have in Naewauld, and I’d always dreamed of an escape, more so after Addy’s sickness and death.  That was one reason why I delayed opportunities to have his body returned home where it wouldn’t be appreciated.

This butler spirit, Hargreaves, who I’ve apparently bonded with, while serviceable in his stiff and stuffy way, won't fill me in on what transpired, for my protection. Still, I am grateful for the space he provides when I need privacy,  how my clothes are impeccably cared for, and shoes polished every morning. I barely need to lift a finger for chores. Domestic spirits should become a thing, even if they’re currently out of favor. I can’t even imagine a situation where I needed to get one.

With some research, mostly needling my nurses during check-ups, I’ve found that unfathomable influence can make you kind of a meanie, to put it in delicate terms. They lean on your fears, anxieties, and trauma to get you to lash out and isolate yourself before they carve out space for their hosts. I know I have plenty of those.  I’ve been assigned a therapist to work through those problems. While I don’t know the nature or reasons for our engagement, I hope I wasn’t that way towards you.  

I only discovered our status because they couldn’t bar me from the admission documents it took to get me into this school. It was shocking to see your name on the paperwork, the eyerollingly brash knight always trading barbs with Lord Tyler and so proud of his beard. Yet, seeing your name warmed my soul in a way that the memories of us clearing Old Bones to kill time until we got Tyler’s little maid involved did not.

As much of a mess that delve had been, I’m glad the tiny maid made it out alive. I wonder where she is as much as I wonder what happened between us. It was easy to see why Tyler wanted to impress her. Are they together? Was there a string of engagements that inspired our union?  My advisor would tell me to get my head out of the past and focus on the present. The medical waiver might save me the first year, but I’m not to fall behind in my progression if I want to stay in school.

He might not say it outright, but considering how I arrived, it was implied that I should do my best to stay at Arkham until I graduate. Like Hargreaves, I think he knows more of my situation than he lets on, but he says he stays out of local politics.  

Sorry. I’m getting off topic. I don’t know how much I’ve shared with you of the difficulty of being one of the many princes and princesses vying to be the next ruler, especially when my choices were considered problematic. But because your name sent me here, I feel like I can trust you. We are oathed by fate to marry. But more than that, my oath was changed into something different. The medical specialists don’t know what it means or what will become of it once we wed, when the oath is supposed to dissipate on completion.  It seems silly, but having this bond to you makes me feel not alone.

That isn’t to say I haven't made friends. Miri, an actual beastkin, a snow fox, has adopted me under her wing. She has a soft spot for wounded fur-less, as she likes to say. Barlow, a ritualist, is excited to explore our local dungeon for clues about summonings. It’s almost like I’m gaining more friends than I had in Naewauld, since no one cares if I’m a princess or heir now.

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I’m not expecting a letter back. The cost of sending this one home was included in the diplomatic package, but only one a semester. Unlike Addy, I paid attention in class, so I know as the heir’s consort you’ll be up to your neck in the politics of building authority and managing my affairs while I’m gone. Not that I had much, but maybe that changed. I know Adric left me some of his property when he died, and assuming Bowe pulled through, he’d be our responsibility.  Honestly, if stealing Adric’s body was going to be the thing to get him to stop his suicidal vigil, I would have arranged for that myself.

Now to the important bits. I was assured that better than the best men were put on the job of sealing my letter to you so it couldn’t be tampered with, so this should reach you and only you. Considering the timing of when my memory was erased, I want you not to trust the queen's court. It's not just in how they liked to play us against each other, but how Addy was discarded once it was clear his condition was fatal.  Protect yourself.

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I’ve infused this letter with a bit of chaos magic from an arrow now in my possession. Because of this, soon after you are done reading, this letter will self-destruct.

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Sincerely, your beloved?

Heir Rosaline Highsmythe

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Good luck ♥️