Spirits

Chapter 15

Tap-tap-tap

Emma's heels clicked along the hallway as she hurried forward. Her dress was burgundy today, which had caused her handmaiden Ruth to insist on braiding a matching ribbon into her ginger hair, but Emma had refused, she had naught the time.

Her father, the King, got up with the sun and there was but an hour of time where he merely sat and contemplated things in his study. After that he was off to attend to the many tasks he oversaw as ruler. Emma had overslept a bit since she had been up so late talking to Sir Oakenfield and could only hope that he was still available.

She approached the door to his study and knocked raptly. "Father? It's your daughter."

"Enter."

Emma stepped in to the spacious room to find her father by his desk. Two large bookshelves covered one wall, filled with tomes and maps. In the center of the room was the long mahogany table her father sat at, with stacks of paper, a writing quill and ink, and more maps beside him. He had one of the windows open, allowing a breeze in that gently swayed the long red tapestries draped on the walls, which showed scenes from the past of conquest, rebellions, and war. Emma wondered briefly if someday there wouldn't be a tapestry on that wall showing this war. That was however...if they managed to not be overtaken by Lithopone.

Her father's eyes were on his work, his blond locks streaked with gray hanging around his face as his lips moved wordlessly. It was as she had feared, he was already preoccupied. Still...this news was important and Emma daren't wait for another time.

"Father, I've come to speak with you about something."

"Just one moment." He dipped his quill and then scrawled something across a sheet of paper, perhaps a note to himself about what he'd being thinking on. Then he looked up, his pale eyes meeting hers. "Yes, dear?"

"I have received word from the Lithoponian informant of something very important."

At this, her father's face changed, his gaze becoming sharper—now he was interested. "And what does he say?"

"It is news of King Hadris and a journey he will be taking." Emma began before pausing at the way her father was looking around her for something. She clasped her hands before herself. He was looking for a letter, but this time there was none. She took a breath and pushed onward. "Apparently the esprit de corps at the front lines is at an all time low. The Royal Army is losing faith in this war and tiring, as we are, of the bloodshed. In an attempt to bolster the troops King Hadris will be traveling across the seas to Spovia to make a visit."

She watched her father's eyebrows rise. "Here? In Spovia? What town?"

"It is assumed that he will dock at Helsing, as that is the biggest port of Spovia they have control over."

"And your informant has said this?" He once again glanced at her hands. "My dear, where is the letter?"

Emma swallowed, her courage wavering. Sir Oakenfield had instructed her to tell The King that she'd felt compelled to burn the "letter", the reason being so no one could find it and spread word of this discovery to the ears of the enemy. He'd been very firm that she not tell her father that he was here, in Spovia, and working as one of their chefs, for fear that he might be found out and killed. "You think I'm the only spy around here?" He'd said to her, the candlelight flickering in his eyes. "There are ears everywhere. I left Lithopone so I could start fresh, if my cover is blown, it'll jeopardize everything for me."

"Emma?" Her father said.

"There is no letter this time." Emma admitted. I can't lie to father like that... "He told me this in person."