The room had an awkward air to it. Celestia was trying to engage in conversation, but Thedosia was distracted. Artemesia didn't bother speaking as she mindlessly stirred her tea.
An hour or so passed, filled with desserts and pointless chatter.
"It's getting quite late," Thedosia suddenly said, glancing outside. Surely enough, the sky was beginning to darken, the sun about to set.
Celestia frowned disapprovingly, but her guest was right. She couldn't keep them for too long.
Thedosia gathered her things, but Artemesia excused herself to the lavatory.
She leaned against the counter, exhaling deeply.
He means for the marriage to happen soon, that much is obvious. But how soon?
"How long will he take to set the stage?" she mumbled, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
. . .
"A letter?" Tia frowned. Leah nodded, "A letter for you, from an unknown sender."
The woman took it cautiously, and examined the envelope. Any handwriting would've given her a clue, but unluckily, her address was printed
She stared at it for a moment, eyes skimming the surface.
After staring at it for a while, she decided to just open it, not getting anything.
A dagger skillfully sliced the bottom of the envelope, and she stared at the page inside.
The brunette sighed, staring at the paper carefully.
Leah, who was intently watching, made a confused sound.
"Just... a few words?" she questioned, glancing between the letter and her Lady's baffled face.
Inside, a single sentence sat on the paper
Adhere to your vows, resist carnally.
Printed in brown ink, the words 'adhere' and 'carnally' were in bold.
Tia exhaled, and put it down, her mind buzzing. A code, maybe. A cipher.
Who on Earth sent this, and what was their intention?
"I would like some privacy," she rubbed her temple with one hand, and waved her attendant off with another.
Though dissatisfied, Leah obliged and left the room.
She grabbed the envelope, examining the parchment again. Heavy and expensive, but instead of a stamp with a proper hallmark, it was crudely taped.
Suddenly, she caught something on the address she didn't bother to read properly.
"A white smudge?" she squinted.
"White smudge, 'adhere', 'carnally'..." she rubbed her chin.
The words felt random. But too deliberate to be random.
Tia flipped the words over in her head. Adhere, carnally.
Suddenly, a thought struck her.
"What if..." she quickly grabbed her quill and a spare sheet of paper, writing down all the letters carefully.
A D H E R E C A R N A L L Y
Slowly, she rearranged the letters, testing every possibility.
"Arcanely herald, already charnel, calendar Harley..." she muttered the completed words as she wrote them separately.
Suddenly, she paused for a moment, staring.
The last combination of words struck inspiration for a rather specific one.
Her hands moved quickly, trying to keep up with her mind. Trying to confirm a fleeting thought.
And... it was what she least expected.
The two new words stared back at her, everything making perfect sense in their presence.
The strokes she'd gotten so familiar with. The one salutation her letters always started with.
She chuckled despite herself, "Seriously, Leander?"
Surely enough, the letter was from the esteemed Crown Prince of the Halycran Empire.
L E A N D E R H A L Y C R A
. . .
"Seriously, Leander?" Artemesia groaned.
She was stuck on the empty letter for a while, still unable to crack the code. She even considered sending him a letter in response, asking him to be a bit less dramatic and clearer with his letters.
"I mean, mine was secret too," she grumbled, "but at least the sender was made obvious. He didn't even do that much!"
She leaned back, huffing.
But a lightbulb in her brain clicked.
"Wait... what if he's using my own methods against me?" she straightened immediately, grabbing the paper.
She also picked up a magnifying glass, looking for any traces of any substance on the paper. When that tactic was unsuccessful, she relied on her senses instead.
First, she felt the surface for any kind of basic Morse Code or Braille, if he was feeling mysterious.
Nothing.
Next, she put the paper close to her nose, and sniffed it.
After a few failed attempts, she managed to catch a whiff of...
"Milk?" she blinked at the letter. "Why..."
The room went silent.
She processed the hints attentively.
Brown ink, white smudge, the smell of milk.
A smile crept up her lips.
"Beating me at my own game?" she joked, reaching out for a nearby candlestick.
Carefully, she held the letter over the flame, allowing the heat to brush past the paper.
Slowly but surely, words in dark brown sprouted on the paper.
Her eyes slid over the surface, reading.
. . .
Dear Artemesia,
I imagine you would not be entirely pleased at having to expend so much effort merely to read a few lines. While I sincerely regret taking your time, I cannot risk the alliance, or the engagement, reaching the wrong ears.
The day after tomorrow, a banquet will be held at Blackridge Estate for all of Rowan Blackridge's closest allies. I have also been invited, though my family has been excluded. While the event's main purpose is to announce the forthcoming union with Artemesia Montclair, I believe you know why they will do that, it also serves to spite me. I will refrain from elaborating further.
I am aware of your disdain for them, yet it is unavoidable. I will escort you to the banquet as your partner, and you will publicly affirm that the engagement was broken several days ago.
This will be a significant step in stoking the flames, and I hope you will find it in your heart to cooperate.
Regards,
L
. . .
Tia's lips twitched. "Is this a letter or a bloody Imperial decree?"
He wasn't wrong about the part where she hated them, but he didn't explain why they would be announcing them getting married. Didn't she deny that to their faces?
Oh.
"I denied it to their faces, not to anyone else's. Means they want this announcement to spread like wildfire, and force Montclair to reenter the marriage."
After all, stepping out of a marriage after a public declaration was inappropriate.
That's why he intends to take me as a partner, and have me deny it on the spot.
A smirk braced her lips, "He is much more cunning than he lets on."