NELNIFA CORLEDIA has a weak voice. When outrage sparks because of her mistake, she diverts the attention to the real problem: the truth to why their territory is poor. This takes Nelnifa to fishing ports, weaving districts, and back to the very plac...
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2404 Rab 18, Jyda
Nelnifa paced in front of the Marshal office, her teeth crunching against her nails. Sweat beaded from the side of her face and it wasn't from the long walk she spent coming here. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, shivers rolling up and down her back and arms. She could do this. She could do this. It's just a talk with the Marshals. Nothing more.
"It's just a talk," Nelnifa whispered to herself aloud. It did nothing to calm her heart aiming to escape from her chest. She blew a heavy breath—one she had been holding back and failing. "It's just a talk."
It's also not like Marshal Laie was a stranger. She might have dropped by the house quite a few times in the past ten years. Nelnifa squealed in frustration, jabbing her wrists against her temples. Ten years? Seriously, Nelnifa was deluding herself at this point. She didn't know Marshal Laie. She didn't know anyone in the Marshal office to begin with.
Maybe that's what set her nerves on edge. Or maybe because of the fact she was here because of something she started without her being aware of it. Her stomach turned from just thinking about it. Of course, she hasn't gotten any sleep since the night before. Her schedule's all messed up too.
Earlier this morning, she caught her father on his way to work and insisted she go with him to the manor. She could never forget the worried expression that contorted her father's face when she told him she would do everything she could to fix her mess.
Then, her father pointed her to the Marshal office in the manor's third floor while he went off to do other, more pressing things. That left Nelnifa on her own.
She stared after the direction her father had gone. Her teeth sank on her lower lip. No, don't go after him and ask him to introduce her to the Marshals. She already made him deal with the crowd the other day. It wasn't her place to burden him with more just because she's too weak to do things on her own.
For once, Nelnifa was tired of being helpless.
So, she took a deep breath, doing nothing to soothe her frantic heart, and rapped her knuckles against the glass-paned sliding door separating her and the Marshals. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, a garbled "Come in." rang through the glass.
Nelnifa gulped, her throat bobbing with the motion. It was somehow painful to swallow the bile rising from her gut. With shaking fingers, she gripped the small, etched ridge at the side of the door and pulled. A whiff of cold air washed over her as the door slid back to reveal the bright room beyond it. She had to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun shining from unveiled windows carved straight through the wall.
"Princess?" a feminine voice bled into Nelnifa's ears. Furniture legs gritted against the wooden floor, armor clinked, and clothes rustled towards her. "It's too early for your reports. We're not expecting anything until next week."
Nelnifa lowered her hand from her face as soon as her eyes had blinked enough times to adjust to the room's ambience. "N-no," she cleared her throat to get rid of the growing lump in it. Then, she did it again before saying, "I came here for something else."
