Lady Eilean

Chapter 25

On a warm spring day full of sunshine and the hum of bees, Alex and I worked intently in the office, a place that had quickly become Alex's preferred working location and my own. A hub of activity that buzzed from sun up to sun down. We had taken up the task of organizing my father's records; putting old ledgers, bills, deeds, and contracts into chronological order. Or any kind of order. Generously, my father's record keeping was little more than drawers stuffed full of mismatched loose papers. Since his departure, I had tried to exist in the chaos he left behind to little success.

Near the hearth, Wallis played with blocks. She laughed every time she built them in a tower that rivaled her own height before crashing into them and scattering the blocks across the floor. Earlier, Alex had scribbled the letters of the alphabet on the blocks and spent some time trying to teach her the order, but Wallis had easily grown tired of that. The construction and destruction of her towers were far more entertaining. After an exceptionally loud screech, where Wallis had flown through her blocks and then slammed into an overstuffed leather chair, Alex and I looked up. After ensuring the girl was alright, we shared a laugh, enjoying her amusement. The excitement broke our spell of quiet work.

"This is a mess," Alex said, throwing down a stack of papers and running his hands through his hair. He shook his head at the boxes of loose letters he had been rummaging through.

"Everyone has their own system," I said in a singsong, trying to be gracious.

"I wouldn't call this a system," Alex grumbled.

I leaned back in my chair, tossing the account book I was reading onto the desk. It snapped shut mid-flight and scattered a pile of receipts as it landed. "I guess I was afraid to change anything because..." I scoffed at the way tears sprang to my eyes. A small, childish part of me, hurt and scared, trembling in my bones.

I looked up at Alex, rolling my eyes, trying to push away the emotion. "Because I thought moving anything or changing anything would jinx them? Prevent them from ever coming back?" Clearing my throat, I got a rein on my feelings.

Alex smiled wistfully, "Everyone has their own system, even for moving on," he said, parroting back my words. He passed me his handkerchief over the desk.

I used it to dab my eyes, laughing at my superstitions.

"Have you heard anything at all? Angus said he was getting better inroads at the front."

"No," I shook my head. "We know they're alive because other people are still getting letters and they reference my family members, but I've not heard from anyone."

I paused, trying to remember the last time Bess had mentioned an influx of letters. The sweethearts and family members of the servants were far more loyal than my kin.

"Or, we were getting letters. There hasn't been an update since the flurry of messages that arrived explaining the army was going to move on the capital."

I turned and looked at the map of the Mainland pinned to the wall beside the desk. It hung beside a large, expansive study of all the Islands; both commandeered from Ian's rooms. With the display of land and ocean before me, I could pretend to understand the cause and effect of this war.

"My advisors haven't sent word, either," Alex said as the sound of his shuffling resumed.

I stared at the map a moment longer, my eyes snagging on the huge, dense forest the dominated the eastern-most edge of the continent. The Blackwood. An unsettled, mostly unmapped wilderness. It was an ominous smear across the topography. With a shake of my head, I turned back to my work.

Pulling open a yet-checked drawer, I rummaged through the documents inside. I came across a scrap of paper with Mother's handwriting on it. The letters were looping and elegant across the smooth, expensive paper. An order for the milliners: