32 - Letters

**Amelia**

My brows furrowed as I examined the seals on the envelopes. The first was unmistakably my mother’s—a simple, elegant crest I’d recognize anywhere. But the second? The ornate, gold-embossed seal was unmistakable, one reserved for royal summons or grave matters. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the envelope, curiosity and dread swirling within me.

"A letter of summons?" I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to the maid.

She lingered briefly, her head bowed, before excusing herself with another curtsey. I barely noticed her departure, already engrossed in the mystery of the letters before me.

Settling onto the plush settee by the window, I decided to open the King’s letter first. The golden seal cracked with a satisfying snap, revealing a thick parchment folded with precision. I unfolded it, and the stern yet formal tone of the words leapt off the page.

My eyes moved horizontally through each line as I read through.

*Lady Amelia of House Doreau,*

*May this letter find you in good health and spirits. It is with due regard to your standing and the matters at hand that I write to you now.*

*You have been summoned to the palace for a council meeting concerning the disappearance of your sister, Lady Lysandra. As a member of the Vaelan family, it is both your right and your duty to partake in these deliberations. The council’s concerns are grave, and your insight may yet prove valuable.*

*The meeting will take place in three days, in the Grand Hall of the Council. Your presence is expected and will be greatly appreciated.*

*May wisdom and clarity guide us all in these trying times.*

*Western Region*

*King Emmett Lukas.*

The seal of the King’s crest gleamed at the bottom of the letter, a mark of its authority. I set the letter down, my mind racing. Lysandra.

It had been weeks since I’d last heard from her—or rather since anyone had. It was almost like she had vanished like a ghost, leaving behind only questions and whispers.

I could only imagine what the villagers were saying and thinking about her.

And now, the King himself had called a council meeting. What could they possibly know that they had not already shared? My stomach churned with unease.

I reached for the second letter, my mother’s. I noted that her letter was dated two days earlier than the King’s own. Maybe this would provide the clarity I sought.

Her letters always carried a warmth that, for a moment, made me feel like a child again, safe in her embrace. But as I broke the seal and began to read, I quickly realized this letter carried its own weight.

*My Dearest Amelia,*

*It has been far too long since I’ve seen your face. My heart aches for you, as it does for all my children, but especially for Lysandra. There has not been a whisper of her whereabouts, not even a letter to ease our worries. Every day that passes without news of her feels like a heavier burden upon my soul.*

*Caelan, bless his determined heart, has been tirelessly meeting with council members. He believes that rallying their support is the key to confronting this matter head-on. His plan, though ambitious, involves waging war against the dragon—a movement that has set my nerves on edge.*

*Amelia, I know you understand the dangers of such a course. The dragon’s wrath is not something to provoke lightly. What if his retaliation becomes aggressive and…*

*I cannot bring myself to finish that thought. At least Caelan’s efforts have managed to make your father acknowledge Lysandra’s plight. Were it not for him, your father would have continued to act as though Lysandra’s blood was not his own.*

*Amelia, my heart is heavy, and my soul weary. Please, if you can find the time, come home. Seeing you would bring me a measure of peace I sorely need.*

*With all my love,*

*Your Mother*

The parchment trembled in my hands as I finished reading. My chest tightened with deep emotions that would’ve swayed me off my feet if I was standing.

Waging war against the dragon? The very idea sent a chill through me. If Caelan succeeded in rallying the council, it could spell disaster, not just for the Western Region, but for the four regions combined, and for Lysandra as well.

What could he be thinking? I thought, my heart pounding. If the dragon—a being of unfathomable power and cunning—felt threatened, it could act impulsively, and Lysandra would bear the brunt of its fury.

I set the letter down beside the King’s, rubbing my temples as I tried to piece everything together. The council meeting, Caelan’s plans, my mother’s fears, my husband’s looming betrayal… It felt like the walls were closing in on me, the weight of it all pressing down until I could hardly breathe.

Taking a deep breath, I carefully returned the letters to their respective envelopes, smoothing the creases with trembling hands. This was no time for hesitation or doubt.

It was like each time I got an answer to a question, about 20 more questions arose. Whatever was happening, I needed answers—and I needed to act.

Standing, I smoothed the wrinkles from my dress and squared my shoulders. The King’s summons left no room for negotiation. I would attend the council meeting if only to ensure that rash decisions weren’t made. And as for Caelan… I needed to speak with him. His intentions, though noble, could lead us all to ruin if he didn’t act with sense.

But first, I needed to let Andrew know that I'd be leaving. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of this morning. I dreaded the conversation, knowing full well how he might react. Still, it was a necessary confrontation.

Exiting my chambers, I made my way toward Andrew’s study, my footsteps echoing softly against the marble floors. Servants bustled about, their whispers and glances following me like shadows, but I paid them no mind. My thoughts were consumed by the weight of the letters and the storm brewing on the horizon.

When I reached the study, I paused outside the door, grounding myself, and collecting my thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I knocked firmly.

"Enter," came Andrew’s voice, clipped and businesslike.

I pushed the door open, stepping inside to find him seated at his desk, papers strewn before him in organized chaos. He looked up, his expression unreadable.

"What is it, Amelia?" he asked, setting down his quill.

"I’ve received a summons from the Western King," I said, holding my head high. "There’s to be a council meeting in three days concerning Lysandra’s disappearance. I am required to attend."

Andrew’s brow furrowed, a flicker of something I couldn’t place crossing his face. "And you intend to go?"

"Of course," I replied, my tone firm. "This is my family, Andrew. I cannot simply ignore it."

He leaned back in his chair, regarding me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "Very well," he said after a long pause. "But be cautious, Amelia. The council is no place for naivety."

I nodded, choosing to ignore the subtle condescension in his words. "Thank you for understanding," I said, turning to leave before he could say anything more.