War of Hearts

Chapter 7: The Notebook

The next morning, Ingrid woke up wanting to explore once more. Of course, other than the passageway, she knew she needed to find more secrets. A castle as old as Adehane had to be stock full of them, she thought to herself. The weather was beautiful as well, with a bright blue cloudless sky and the crisp, warm summer air around her. Ingrid took a deep breath and smiled, walking towards the south wing.

As she walked around the gardens, casually picking an apple and munching on it, she found a space between two walls, a dark and somewhat hidden little corner. At the end of it was a brown door that looked rather ancient. The doorknob had cobwebs on it. Immediately, her instincts kicked in, and she walked towards the door. She grabbed the handle and pulled--it wouldn't budge. She tried pushing against the door, and after her second push, it swung open, revealing a small, overgrown garden.

Ingrid gasped in awe. It was as if it had its own little corner of the kingdom. The grass was wild and free, reaching nearly up to her calves. Butterflies danced around the flowers and leaves. At the center of it all was a tiny little house on stilts, the white paint fading. It looked like a miniature hut, the kind she saw in illustrations dotting the islands in Sealand's waters. 

She went towards it and cautiously opened the door. It opened easily, revealing an empty interior full of cobwebs. Insects skittered nervously as she opened it. She coughed as she looked around her--it was like a little hidden fort. She looked at posters and tiny little sketches pinned on the walls--a child's hand. She squinted at a drawing; underneath was "Isaac, 6".

"Isaac? As a child?" she said to herself. She gingerly went inside, having to crouch to fit. It was clearly his hiding spot as a child. At one far corner was a tiny brown notebook covered in dust. She picked it up and blew the dust away, to reveal: "Prince Isaac's Diary" written in a childlike hand. She grinned mischievously. "Oh, this is going to be a treat," she said to herself, grinning with mischievous glee.

She browsed through it from the start, reading his diary entries from the age of 6 years old. The first few ones were innocent: him talking about playing all day, finding a new flower or herb, or playing with friends. She laughed as she read his writings, making fun of Nerea and of his own parents.

Laughing, she had the best idea. She grabbed the book and got out of the tiny house, rushing to the library.

Isaac was alone in his library, relaxing on his favorite armchair, a book in one hand and a cup of tea on the other. The armchair faced a large window that reached from the ceiling to the floor, and he sipped his tea as he watched fluffy white clouds move lazily against a bright blue sky. "Peaceful..." he muttered to himself, looking forward already to a day spend reading. 

But just as he opened his book, the doors banged open, and with it came her voice, loud and energetic as always: 

"Isaac! Look what I found~" Ingrid barged in, speaking in a singsong voice. She smiled mischievously, like a naughty child about to pull a prank. She walked to him with big strides, waving the notebook in the air.

The sudden sound nearly made him spill tea all over himself. "What the?" he cried out in shock, putting down the book and the cup. He turned around to face her, getting up from his armchair. He looked at the old-looking notebook. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "You don't need to show me every stupid thing you find, you know," he said matter-of-factly. 

"Stupid things? What about stupid things you yourself wrote? Ha!" She said triumphantly, placing the notebook on the table. "Surprised to find out you were once a child, Isaac. I thought you came out of your mother's womb correcting the physician about something scientific," she said sarcastically, laughing.

Isaac glanced down at the notebook, and picked it up. Just then, the color on his face changed. For a second, it turned a ghostly pale, and then suddenly he was red all over, looking like his head was about to burst. His grip on the notebook tightened, and he glared at her with a look she had never seen before.