Finally in the safety of my own room, I let myself exhale, releasing myself from the pent-up tension that has building up since I woke up. From the underlying fear of being discovered, however, I would never be free.
I felt a crease of frustration deepen between my brows and quickly rose my hand to smoothen it out. The pressure of hand against my forehead felt heavenly and a certain exhaustion swept over me. What was I doing?
Not a day passed by without a sense of panic taking over. So much was at stake and the future of the lands might as well be dependent on how well I was able to infiltrate the crème de la crème. How could anyone think I was fit to do this job?
The pressure of society and of the character I had to portray was taking its toll on me. I wish I could scream or just run and disappear, if only for a while. But I wouldn't dare. Not when there were still people doubting me… Specially my mother.
I was surprised to know that the Lady of the Lake had moved to the capital alone, setting up a house at the edge of the most fashionable neighbourhood. When I had come to Franciesse – if I was to be truthful, I barged in, run-down horse and ragged clothes, claiming to have escaped the claws of the fearful Lord of Yerdoth –, it was the Lady of the Kremijs herself that took me in. I made sure of that. But barely a day after I set foot on the mansion the current Vrya'a of Vyertas resided in, my mother came to visit.
It took every Delano's lesson I took to school my expression into one of relief and pleasurable surprise and not the utter panic that assailed me the moment I saw my mother's face. Not only could she possibly be the only one to see through my façade, she also thwarted my plans.
According to what I had thought of, I was to be taken in by Lady of the Kremijs and become her companion. Then, as time went by, I would become her confidant and she would slowly reveal everything.
But now, I lived under my mother's roof.
Surely, it wasn't my original plan, but because of the dramatic way I had entered Franciesse's society, I received more than plenty invitations to various events, including the exclusive ones. The Vrya'a also requested my company quite often; my knowledge of Yerdoth and especially of the seat of the Lord of Yerdoth was very prized.
Just her luck that I suffered from traumatic memory loss. From time to time, something came up in my mind, just enough to feed her and all her greedy minions. I wondered how long I would keep this specific farce up.
Then, there was the issue of the Lords. In the short amount of time I had been in Franciesse, one thing was clear: a very tense relationship crackled between the Ladies and the Lords of society. Their mutual disdain and, on the other hand, need shaped the resentment felt on both sides.
And then, there was I, in the middle, trying to fit in on both sides. Therefore I was left in the most precarious situation, hanging by the thinnest of threads. One wrong step and I could lose access to either side, if not even both.
Of course, there was still my mother, who thought was hiding her suspicion of my sudden change of character. It was her that I had to impress at all times, because if she thought me believable, anyone would.
It did prove to be harder than I had expected, but then again, I hadn't been the meekest of Misses when growing up. In fact, I had just been the opposite, tameless and rebellious. It's no wonder she couldn't quite phantom my subordination and the demure character I had assumed.
I needed to fool her, as much as I needed to fool everyone else. Shira and everyone in Yerdoth were dependent on how well I gathered information and until now, I hadn't found anything that might give us any advantage, should it come to war.
Shuddering, I willed the thought away.
With a muted sigh, I sat on my writing desk and took my journal, which I had hid inside volume two of the history of Vyertas – the recent Dwanerry version. All the little information I was able to gather in the few months I was here I had written inside the black leather notebook.
Flipping through half of it until I reached a blank page, I wrote down the events of the night.
While my pen filled the empty space with every detail I was able to assemble, my mind still is able to wonder into a subject that hasn't left me since hours before. Lord Swangard.
Something wasn't quite right about him, and the lack of information in Delano's book worried me… It is as if he didn't actually exist before coming to the capital. What if…
But that wouldn't make any sense. They would've told me, if it was the case.
Still the Lord wasn't who he claimed he was and I wasn't sure if that meant he was an enemy or a friend. What I do know, is that his place in society is endangered and his regard for the working of it is not the highest. But can he be counted as a friend of the true lady, or is he part of another string of rebellion? And is this rebellion harmful for us?
Looking down, I noticed I had stopped writing for a while, which shook my trail of thought away. I must concentrate on the events of the night and summarise it as extensively as possible.
When I was done, I glanced at the clock only to be surprised about how late it actually was. The hands read four a.m. I must get to bed right away, since the following day I was to visit Lady of the Kremijs and she surely would want some titbit. Just what was I supposed to tell her?
Changing into my nightgown, I kept going through all my experiences in Yerdoth, trying to pick one that's interesting enough, but not revealing enough. The balanced centre.
I sighed. Nothing came to head and quite frankly, I was too exhausted to even keep my eyes opened, so I decided to go with the flow. Say whatever passed through my mind then.
Quite risky, but then again all that I was doing had its risk.