The Correspondence Office was a quiet sanctuary amid the castle’s chaos, a place where the kingdom’s words to the rest of the world were born. Rows of shelves lined the walls, filled with scrolls, ink pots, and stacks of parchment, reminding Celestio of his own office. The faint scratches of quills against paper filled the air, accompanied by the occasional rustle of pages, the familiar scents and sounds that Celestio appreciated.

  “Sir Celestio.”

  The Minister of the Correspondence Office, a wiry man with thinning hair and spectacles perched precariously on his nose, rose from his desk the moment Celestio entered. A faint ink stain marred his right sleeve from years of wear and his fingers bore the telltale smudges and calluses of a man who spent his life with a quill always in hand. He bowed his head respectfully to the son of his friend. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  Celestio inclined his own head. “I require your assistance, Minister Yves. His Highness has received a letter from Ambassador Varrus, which requires a response whose wording is currently beyond the young prince’s abilities.”

  Yves’s brow furrowed, and he adjusted his spectacles. “Ah, Varrus. A man with a talent for turning compliments into daggers. I assume His Highness wishes to reply in kind?”

  Celestio’s lips quirked. He held out his papers that contained the notes he had elegantly scrawled during his meeting with Edess. “The response must be diplomatic yet firm, particularly since Ambassador Varrus will be attending the prince’s birthday in the upcoming days and we may have to deliver to him personally. We must acknowledge his letter without engaging in its provocations, reminding him of His Highness’s authority without appearing defensive.”

  Yves nodded, already reaching for a fresh sheet of parchment. “Understood, Sir Celestio. I shall craft a reply that is as sharp as it is unassuming.”

  “Good.” Celestio’s tone was approving but brisk. “I will review it before it is sent, though I know there will be a perfectly crafted letter written by a master. In the meantime –”

  “Sir,” Yves interrupted, waving his quill toward a short stack of letters on his desk. “Before you leave, you may wish to review these; they only arrived this morning and a few concern His Highness’s banquet. I assume those may require your immediate attention.”

  Celestio sighed softly. “Very well.” His voice dropped its formal tone for a moment. “Nothing like waiting until the last minute to send something so important.” Celestio gathered the letters into his ledger. “If there are any other matters that require the immediate action of a scribe, please let me know.”

  Celestio thanked his old family friend and trudged back upstairs and through the gleaming halls to his office. When the door shut behind him he sighed and tugged at his collar. There were only a few more hours until he could bid good night to Edess and head to his house, exhausted from the extra work leading up to his prince’s birthday. He crossed his large office that was almost indistinguishable from Yves’s, though the tall windows let sunlight stream in.

  He sank onto his chair behind his large oak desk, a piece of furniture that had served generation after generation of advisors before him. He set the leather folio in front of his and opened it, sorting through the last-minute letters.

  Most of them were predictable – messages from nobles confirming their attendance, inquiries about accommodations, and thinly veiled attempts to curry favor with the prince. One baroness requested that her seat be moved closer to the prince’s table, citing her “longstanding loyalty to the crown.” A merchant lord from the coastal cities offered to supply exotic delicacies for the banquet, provided his contribution was acknowledged publicly.

  Celestio read them all with meticulous attention, taking notes to address the more pressing matters later with Edess. He reached the middle of the stack, finding an envelope with an oddly bright red seal. The handwriting was neat but unpretentious, and the sender’s name was written simply: Fourth Son of Lord Kamaria.

  Celestio’s brow furrowed, and he carefully broke the seal. The name was vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite recall where he had heard it before. The handwriting inside was the same as on the envelope – precise but simple.

  ~

  To the Esteemed Royal Secretary of His Highness Prince Edess, Sir Celestio Sitara of Soura,

  I write on behalf of my father, Lord Kamaria of Almwick, who regrets that the quarantine prevents him from attending His Highness Prince Edess’s celebration. In his stead, I, Lord Kamaria’s fourth son, Sabas of Almwick, will represent our family at His Highness’s festivities. My father has entrusted me with a message of gratitude and our family’s deepest regard for His Highness.

  However, it is not merely familial duty that compels me to attend. My father has spoken highly of the royal family and of His Highness’s Lord Secretary, who has shown great wisdom in guiding our prince during his life. It is my hope that I might seek a private audience with His Highness during my stay, to discuss possible measures to relieve Almwick of its burden that threatens the town of His Highness’s loyal citizens. I trust your discretion in this matter and look forward to your counsel.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Yours Faithfully,

  Lord Kamaria’s Fourth Son,

  Sabas Kamaria

  ~

  Celestio’s eyes lingered on the signature at the bottom of the letter, his mind already turning over the implications. Lord Kamaria… Almwick was a town in the southwest of Soura, a prosperous and quiet town that gave no trouble to the royal family until several years ago. He struggled to remember exactly how long it had been since the plague began ravaging the town, causing its people to enact a quarantine and forbidding anyone from entering or leaving. Even King Conrad himself was forbidden to approach by the local lords; a move that had enraged the king, but Celestio’s father had convinced him not to take any foolish action.

  Celestio eyed the signature – the fourth son of Lord Kamaria. He must have been elsewhere when the plague ravaged his home and hadn’t been able to return before the quarantine was enacted. He likely had little to no standing in his family anymore, though his presence in place of his father was preferable to outright ignoring the prince. Even if Edess wasn’t impressed by the gesture, Celestio was pleased at the family’s respectful action.

  Celestio’s gaze flicked back to the line about the “matter of great importance.” The southern lands near the crusade battlefront had been a source of quiet unrest in recent months, their lords grumbling about increased taxes and reduced trade routes. If Lord Kamaria’s son was coming to discuss these issues, it could mean trouble or an opportunity – maybe he wanted to inform Edess personally that the quarantine could finally be lifted, or that there was little of the town remaining.

  Celestio folded Sabas’s letter carefully, tucking it back into its envelope before setting it aside. He would be interviewing the guests before the banquet, an utterly boring task, but this one maybe be interesting enough to brighten his day. He turned his attention back to the stack of letters, his thoughts lingering on Sabas’s message. The prince would need to be informed of Lord Kamaria’s absence beforehand, though he likely wouldn’t care.

  For now, Celestio had to prepare for the interviews.

  The antechamber to one of the guest rooms was being used as a waiting area for the visiting nobles and emissaries, each summoned by Celestio for a private audience before the prince’s birthday celebration. The room was elegant but unadorned, with high-backed chairs arranged in a semi-circle around a polished oak table decorated with only a small vase of flowers from the courtyard. A single window let in a soft stream of late afternoon sunlight, illuminating the subtle patterns on the tapestry-lined walls.

  It was not a room designed for comfort. The seated and waiting nobles shifted uncomfortably, their hands smoothing their silks or fidgeting with their signet rings. The tension in the air was palpable – each of them knew that an audience with Sir Celestio was no mere formality. It was an opportunity and a test by the man closest to His Highness. The Royal Secretary did not suffer fools, nor did he tolerate unnecessary theatrics. To speak with Celestio was to potentially step into the lion’s den.

  Celestio sat behind the hardy and simple desk, his posture perfect and his expression unreadable. Before him, his ledger lay opened to a fresh page, the quill in his hand poised over the parchment. A stack of letters and reports sat neatly to the side, alongside a silver hourglass that marked the maximum time allotted for each meeting.

  The first noble was escorted by a guard who settled by the doorway in case one of the guests attempted to make a scene. He was a portly baron from the northern highlands at the edge of the kingdom. He bowed deeply, his movements slightly stiff from age, nerves, or both. Celestio gestured to the chair opposite him and the man sat, his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

  “Baron Eldric of the Northlands,” Celestio said, his voice smooth and even. “I trust your journey was uneventful?”

  “Quite uneventful, my lord, yes,” the baron replied, his voice carrying a slight tremor. “The roads were well-patrolled, as always. Your grace’s diligence ensures safe travel for all who pass through the kingdom.”

  Celestio inclined his head slightly. “I summoned you here to discuss matters of importance to your region. His Highness values the prosperity of all his lands and wishes to ensure that any and all of your concerns are heard.”

  Baron Eldric’s face brightened slightly, though his hands remained tightly clasped. “Of course, my lord. The Northlands are flourishing, thanks to Prince Edess’s policies. He is a fine ruler in father’s stead and we will be pleased when he is eventually coronated. However…” He hesitated, his gaze flicking briefly down to the ledger before returning to Celestio’s piercing eyes.

  “Speak plainly,” Celestio said.

  “Well, my lord,” the baron said, leaning forward slightly. “The recent increase in levies has placed a strain on our smaller villages. We’ve had a bountiful harvest, but the cost of transporting goods to market has risen sharply. If there is any way to possibly reduce the burden of these levies, it would greatly ease the strain on my people.”

  Celestio’s quill scratched across the parchment. “I will note your concerns and present them to Prince Edess,” he said. “In the meantime, I suggest emphasizing your region’s prosperity during the celebration. The prince will take notice and your approval of his politics will bolster your favor with the court.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” the baron said, rising to his feet and bowing deeply. “I am most grateful for your guidance.”

  Celestio nodded curtly, already turning to the hourglass as the baron left the room.

  The second visitor was a merchant lord from the eastern coastal cities, his garments adorned with gold embroidery and his fingers heavy with jeweled rings. He entered with an air of confidence, bowing just deeply enough to show respect without appearing subservient.

  “Lord Halric,” Celestio said, his tone as neutral as ever. “His Highness has noted the contributions of your region to the kingdom’s trade. Do you have matters you wish to bring before him?”

  Halric smiled, his teeth white and sharp. “It is always a pleasure to speak with you, Lord Secretary. The coastal cities stand ready to serve the crown, as always. However, there are a number opportunities we wish to discuss.”

  “Opportunities?” Celestio arched a single dark brow, his quill poised over the ledger.

  “Yes,” Halric said, leaning forward slightly on the uncomfortable wooden chair.

  Celestio held his breath. The merchant’s pheromones filled the air and the small vase of flowers did nothing to dull the rancid odor.

  “The southern trade routes have become increasingly lucrative, but recent naval skirmishes with foreign merchants from the crusade battlefront have disrupted our shipments. If His Highness were to invest in additional ships for the royal fleet, it would secure these routes and increase revenues for the kingdom.”

  “And for your coffers, no doubt,” Celestio said.

  Halric’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before returning. “The prosperity of the coastal cities is the prosperity of the kingdom, my lord. What benefits us benefits His Highness.”

  Celestio made a note in his ledger, his quill moving with swift precision. “I will present your proposal to Prince Edess. In the meantime, I suggest tempering your enthusiasm during the celebration. The court is wary of overt ambition.”

  Halric’s smile tightened, but he bowed gracefully. “Your wisdom is, as always, invaluable, Lord Secretary. I shall take your advice to heart.”

  Celestio managed to wait until the guard had escorted the merchant out to exhale, gasping for fresh air as he waved his hands in front of him to clear out the odor. Most nobles were more subtle around him but he couldn’t really be surprised by the merchant’s arrogance.