Previously in Prince Roderick's travel journals, and from before, read where Iana's search led here. The next chapter of her adventure now begins.
I couldn't understand why my Father would hesitate. He was the King of Winding. Didn't he want to save his Kingdom? He had within his grasp a power to do that. What was he waiting for?
Returning to the castle from Aunt Rosemary's I had to make my way through the gardens again. Of course this time nothing strange happened. Although I felt a piercing loneliness, as I passed the silent tower and it lingered with me until I reached the part of the castle beyond the bell tower, which wasn't falling to pieces. I could hear voices ahead, from within the servant's halls. My godmothers. From the shrill voice of Aunt Ravelle, to the loud shouting between Aunt Ginger and Aunt Hona, they're both slightly deaf, and my mother bossing people around in that precise way she has. I wasn't alone, not at all with them around. The castle was filled with my Aunties. My sister Joli was hiding out somewhere and my father still locked in his study, hiding away as well. Why would he do that? Why keep all these secrets? Why not share the wonderful life giving flower with everyone? That's what I would have done.
Aunt Clo bustled out of one of the rooms carrying armfuls of thread. She grinned at the sight of me. I'd promised earlier that morning to help sort them. It was the least I could do, as long as I didn't come anywhere near her spinning wheel.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Clo," I began to apologize. "I've been here and there all morning, I only just finished giving Aunt Rosemary the apple blossom she wanted."
"Nevermind, nevermind. I'm used to doing it myself. It's what I do. You have something to do yourself, don't you?"
I nodded. "I'm headed to see father."
"Off with you then."
I left her to finish on her own, trying not to feel any guilt about it. Such old hands, and such tiny threads. How can she bear it?
Since I returned from the circle kingdom I'd seen and spoken to my Father only three times. He rarely ever left that draft room, which we called his study now. When I did try to speak to him someone had always interrupted, an errand for an Aunt or mother requiring my presence or even Olwen with a small request. I realized all these clever ploys to keep from occupied and away from his study. I should have realized he was hiding something in there, not just himself.
I would not be distracted this time. I was determined.
As I crossed the entrance hall to the old quadrangle quarters, and the storage rooms, one of which had been converted to Father's study, I noticed some of the winterguards at the main door. One of them hurried toward me with a message.
"They have returned your highness. Someone must inform his Majesty at once. Olwen has stepped out to greet them." The old man's helmet slipped down over his nose as he spoke.
"Who has arrived?" I asked him.
"Its Them. Them that we are indebted to, your highness. They've come for another payment, no doubt."
I steeled myself, somehow keeping the alarm and surprise from my face. It wasn't right to show anxiety to a guard, I was a princess after all. I knew exactly who he spoke of, the debt collectors.
I turned to the entrance as two men entered.
to be continued . . .
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