It wouldn't be the current duke given grandfather's age. It should be the current duke's grandfather, if her math was correct. Still, the North being ruled by savages had been a story that had been told for decades. Why did her grandfather willingly travel to the North to meet with him? Attend his daughters wedding even–
Rummaging through the diary Lysandra was in search of any mention of the decline of the North. There was nothing she could find. The wedding wasn't described nor any other details that could keep her home.
There was no denying it anymore, Lysandra would have to marry the duke. She would have to face an unknown brute and the potential horrors of the north. Her grandfather's diary slipped from her fingers, landing with a soft thud. She looked at it as if it could bring her salvation. Yet, it had only confused her. Lysandra noticed a piece of paper sticking out from the back of the diary. As she unfolded it, she realised it was a letter.
"Dear Marquis Atar,"
The handwriting was that of a woman. Grandmother's? No, her grandparents were on a first name basis. She wouldn't have addressed her husband as marquis Atar. She continued reading the letter. It told of the old duke Sepreth's passing. She kept reading until–
"My father mentioned before his passing that you were recently blessed with a second granddaughter. He mentioned wanting to write to you about it. Had the blacksmith make a hair clip for her. It's made of mythril, shaped like a butterfly like the one you and father saw that day you two met.
My son has been asking for you, he mentioned that on your last visit to us two years ago that you told him about stories out at sea you had seen a creature bigger than a ship itself.
My father's funeral will take place 2 weeks from now.
I know it might be impossible but I will have soldiers waiting for you at the regular place.
Kind Regards,
The Duchess of Sepreth"
What had she just read? This happened around the time Lysandra was born. The hair clip she had been wearing in her hair for all these years had been requested by the late Duke Sepreth before his death as a gift. The same gift that arrived with the news of one of grandfather's seemingly best friends having passed away.
Regular place—
Grandfather had clearly visited the North more than once, yet he had only written about it that one time. He had most likely gone to the North to go to his friend's funeral. Yet there was no other information, she shook every diary hoping for more letters yet there were none.
"Milady Lysandra! Dinner is ready!" Her name was being called somewhere downstairs.
Looking up through the small window she realised the sun had set.
A few days later, a letter arrived.
"Dear Marquis Atar,
One of your daughters is to be engaged to me, as per his Majesty's command.
Only bring a maximum of three trunks of luggage for the journey, knights will be waiting at Mary's inn on the tenth night.
Duke Sepreth"
That was it. There were two whole lines, no safe journey. Lysandra found herself reading the letter over and over again standing in front of her father's desk as he gauged her reaction.
It was a miracle the man knew how to write as gracefully as he did. For a man deemed to be a barbaric demon he at least had nice handwriting. Lysandra handed the letter back to her father.
"That's it then, right father?" Her voice was quiet, no other words were needed. Lysandra would prepare to leave.
The next few weeks passed in a blur. Her mother had come by, to talk and to prepare her for the journey ahead. It had been emotional and almost too much to bear. Her mother was of common birth. Inevitably meaning she lacked the skill to help Lysandra prepare to run a duchy. There had been tears, but tradition was tradition.
Lysandra would spend her engagement learning about the duchy. Her virtue protected only by the promise of marriage. With the emperor backing the marriage, it would be sooner rather than later. Perhaps she would marry as soon as she arrived in the north? Lysandra refused to think about it.
Instead Lysandra dedicated her remaining free time to reading the books in the attic again. Things in the empire didn't add up. The stories her grandfather told about foreign lands did not match the descriptions of those found in the public library. It only made the empire more suspicious in Lysandra's eyes.
Besides the books in the attic, reading fantasy books was Lysandra's one true escape. The books published in the capital always contained love stories set in the empire. It was unbecoming of a lady to publicly read them, but behind closed doors, all ladies swooned over a good romance.
Deciding on what to bring along in her three trunks besides her books had been challenging. Clothing was essential. Lysandra had set out to buy the last few missing things when she bumped into Blanche at the tailor's. She and her minions were the worst people she could have encountered. They informed her they were picking out funeral dresses for when her corpse would return from the North. It was a cruel joke that hunted Lysandra in her nightmares.
When it came time to leave for the north, her trunks had been packed. Lysandra had packed all of her grandfather's diaries. The carriage was packed early in the morning. Her own horse, Shadow, was one of the horses pulling it. She left at sunrise, accompanied by her maid, Daisy and some guards. She waved her parents goodbye while hanging out of the small carriage window. There was no amount of hugs and kisses her parents could have given her that would have made their parting easier. Lysandra would miss them. Dearly. With a lump in her throat she sat down as the carriage left the family's estate.
As the carriage moved through the city, Lysandra kept staring outside watching. The capital's outer gates were up ahead, noticing the guards blocking its entry.
A carriage with the D'Anser family emblem carved into its sides. What was their carriage doing all the way over by the capital's outer gates? Next to it stood a cart covered by a drape, hiding its contents. "What are you looking at?" A voice called as Lysandra looked over and noticed Maxim, Leonel's friend glaring at her.
"I was just–" Lysandra didn't know how to respond as her own carriage had come to a halt. Each carriage entering and leaving the capital required the right paperwork. Father already informed her she might be held up at the gate depending on how busy it would be.
"If it isn't the lovely cursed bride." Leonel grinned as he walked around the carriage. A smug grin plastered on his face. "Off to your own funeral are you now?" Lysandra could feel her nails digging into her palm. She wanted to scream at the man, tell him to shut his mouth and leave her be. But she couldn't. Lysandra most likely would never see them ever again, that might be a positive about leaving the capital.
Her carriage moved again. Lysandra put her head out of the window seeing her coachman handing over the permits to leave the city. She turned to Daisy with a smile on her face "Daisy," her maid looked up quickly. "Yes, Milady."
"Do you still have that nail file?" Lysandra requested.
Moments later a nail file was placed in her hand. She played with the file as she kept an eye on the coachman. Hearing the two men outside trying to get her attention as she ignored them. The second the coachman got the approval of the guards to move, Lysandra threw the nail file out of the window, straight at Leonel's direction, causing him to flinch. "Oh my, I'm so sorry it must have slipped out of my hand." Lysandra said with a smile on her face.
"You-" Leonel had his hand on his cheek as a trail of red dripped between his fingers. His eyes were laced with anger. Lysandra's carriage moved and headed through the gates. From afar she could hear the young lord shouting at her. "You will pay for this! You–"
Lysandra turned to face Daisy as the two of them locked eyes, they both bursted out in laughter.
"May the scar be ever ugly." Daisy giggled. With that her journey started off on a high note. Though, that was only momentarily. Sitting in the carriage all day for the next two weeks hadn't been something she had been looking forward to. Actually sitting through it, was close to torture.