Rule of The Monarch

Ten: Scattered

12 September

'We're keeping her?'

'Stop talking as if she were a stray Mr. Hemingway. My sister is no such thing.' Heather crossed her arms.

'But she tried to kill us.' Astor half whispered.

'I'm the one who lit the fire.'

'She shot you!'

'An accident,' she dismissed his pointed stare at the cloth tied tightly below her shoulder. The tear in her dress was a wound after all, only too light at the time to notice. 'She has nowhere to go. Surely you, the ever too kind, Astor Hemingway wouldn't banish her to the streets?' she mocked.

'It's your flat,' he raised his arms in surrender and stalked out of the sitting room.

'Bloody nuisance.'

'I heard that!' He called out.

'Oh, shut up!'

'So venomous.' Evelynn taunted playfully, leaning against the bookshelf. 'I'm surprised he hasn't pursued a courtship yet.'

'Hah! When I'm queen.'

'So it's definitely happening then?'

'Who's to say I won't die first?'

'All the money in the world,' she laughed hysterically as heather attacked her with a cushion. 'I am serious,' Evelynn continued. 'You two hide your affection between quarrels and insults. I've never seen any two people more fit for each other. You practically complete each other,' she clasped her hands and heaved a dramatic sigh.

'Were only friends. Nothing more.'

'So you say.'

'And what is that supposed to mean?'

'Anything you want it to.' Evelynn replied with an air of nonchalance. 'It's your flat.'

'One mind in two people.' Heather muttered, shaking her head. 'You're both ridiculous fools.'

'Except I'm much more charming. Perhaps I should court you.' Evelynn mocked contemplation.

'You best hope my aim doesn't reach you!' Heather called out as Evelynn darted to the safety of her room. 'You're still a child,' she smiled to herself, picking up new envelopes at the foot of the door. 'No matter how much you grow up.'

Three letters caught her eye. Two from her parents, who weren't frequent correspondents and another with no return address. The latter two were likely reminders and warnings regarding her royal duties, but the last seemed to command her curiosity. She tore it open and let her eyes feast on the neat script.

Dearest cousin,

You never cease to astound me do you? Lighting fire to a park is no doubt the craziest thing you've done so far. No need to worry about me. I'm quite fine in the shadows. I can see why you like it here so much. I'll be back soon. I only need a few more days to sort out my scattered brain. I'll see you at the palace princess.

Christopher

'Ah!' Heather gave a sharp cry of pain, clutching her foot and hopping on the other.

'Heather, what are you doing?' Evelynn came running to her side, Astor a few paces behind.

'Did you kick the door?'

'Well, I'd like to bloody know what else you thought I was doing.' Heather winced as she settled in an armchair. 'Read,' she passed the letter to them.

'What is it?'

'Don't be daft Mr. Hemingway, I said read,' she replied sternly.

'Christopher's all right?'

'The prince is alive?' He echoed Evelynn's surprised cry.

'For heaven's sake you two,' Heather snapped. 'I said read, not skim the letter.' Her foot bounced up and down with impatience. 'You're deliberately trying to crack me aren you? Awfully slow for the two greatest minds in the room. What must it be like in your little minds?'

'Breathe, Heather. Else you'll explode.'

'Better from annoyance than boredom,' she countered. 'You're reading, not observing. Pick apart the oddities and tell me what's wrong.'

'Scattered.' Evelynn said finally, lifting her head from the parchment. 'Dearest, CT.'

'Precisely.'

'I'm sorry what?'

'Honestly, Mr. Hemingway,' Heather rolled her eyes. 'You can be so stupid sometimes.'

'I'm stupid?'

'Exactly.'

'Shut up you two,' Evelynn snapped. 'It's a cry for help.'

'I know he is, but what are you talking about?'

'Heather!'

'This is what I mean,' she grabbed a pencil and started underlining the words. 'Scattered is an anagram for dearest, CT. Christopher Thorne. He's been using it in our personal letters for years now. It wouldn't make sense for him to sign off with his name instead of the anagram,' she explained. 'Look,' she pointed to each word. 'Give me worry, you see shadows. I'm in a palace of the craziest, need no fire. Here I'll see you. Dearest, CT.'

'Is it a poem?' Heather's brows knit together.

'A code!' Astor cried. 'How did you know where the words go? Or which ones to pick?'

'We had a game. Ones like this were his favourite,' Evelynn smiled sadly.

'Was there a particular number combination he liked to use?'

'Yes, that would be 333321421. Their country estate's address.' They watched him circle seemingly random letters on Evelynn's notes. 'Well then, that gives me all I need to know. Ladies,' he faced them. 'Shall we?'