The Priestess' Affair [Books 1 &2]

𝐗𝐋𝐈𝐈. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

-HER-

"Why even someone will want to learn this thing!" Fiona protested after my failed attempts to teach her some words in Voynish. Even though it was too soon, I was already frustrated by her. We were progressing at a snail's pace.

"It's a supremely important ancient language, Princess Theresa. The sages and the seers wrote their books in this language. If you wish to gain access to those esoteric books, you must learn the language. It's the bridge to the realm of divine knowledge," I explained.

"Ugh! Why couldn't they be written in our script!" She vented, "Just translate them. It's that simple!"

"Somethings couldn't be translated. If it were to be translated into the Somirean script, it will entirely lose its divinity. The Somirean script is not capable enough to hold the true essence of that knowledge. It doesn't even have enough characters to form most of the words in Voynish," I explained, but it didn't help her. She looked further irritated.

"Is it really that necessary for me to learn these things?" She asked, huffing.

"It was an important part of Princess Theresa's character. She is said to be the last person in Somirea to have known Voynish. It's expected of you to have the basic knowledge of this," I told her. Fiona remained silent for a while, staring out of the window, weighing something in her head.

"I've always wondered about it, but I keep forgetting to ask," she spoke up after a while.

"What is it?" I asked.

"If Princess Theresa is said to be the last in Somirea to know this language, then how come you know it?" She questioned.

I fell quiet.

It wasn't as if I had never expected this to be asked, it was just that I wasn't expecting it like this.

"Well, some people outside Somirea still know Voynish," I told her nonchalantly, hoping she doesn't probe deeper into it.

"You are not from Somirea?" She asked me, wide-eyed.

"I'm half Somirean," I lied.

"What about the other half?" She dug.

"Why does it matter?" I shot back. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a hard stare.

"You know, from the very first day, I had doubts against you," She confessed.

"Then why did you take us as your ladies in waiting?"

"Because you looked convincing," she answered, "anyway, who taught you Voynish?" She asked, tilting her head to a side and studying me like a hawk.

"My mother,"

"And from where did she learn it?"

"From my grandmother. She was a seer, so she was born with the knowledge and vision," I told her. It wasn't a complete lie. She stared at me for a few moments. I could see that she was deep in her thoughts.

After a long pause, she asked me in almost a whisper, "Do you have the vision too?"

I took a deep breath, not liking where things were headed to.

"I cannot talk about it," I told her.

"Can you give me hints?"

"No," I answered sharply. "And even if I had the vision, what would you want to know?" I couldn't help but ask. Her sudden curiosity caught my attention. She sighed deeply and leaned back in her chair, looking away.

"I would want to see what happened to the real Theresa,"

~

I could feel the itch one got when having the sense of being watched as I left the study and headed towards the garden. The sun was about to set, and I was glad the lessons were over. It was hard to teach Fiona, and it wasn't like I was the best teacher in the world. My patience wouldn't allow me even if I tried.

I sat in the garden, watching the sky. I closed my eyes and tuned into my inner senses, feeling the sun setting down and the evening wind ruffling my hair. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear some birds. However, the sound of birds was soon overpowered by voices coming from the palace. Momentarily the feeling of being watched also faded away.

A visitor.

I tried not to think too much about who it might be. Instead, I tried to focus on the evening. I didn't know how long I was there, I spent quite some time there late after sunset, floating in the realm between consciousness and subconsciousness on the boat of my inner senses.

It was like existing and watching myself exist at the same time. For a brief moment, I felt like I was time. I remained immersed in the realm where dreams and thoughts came together and ultimately ceased to exist.

Then something snapped inside me. My eyes opened, and I sat up in the darkness. However, the garden wasn't completely dark. Some light was pouring out of the windows of the palace, and then I heard the voices again.

"I will see you at the celebrations then," A familiar voice spoke.

Viscount!

I rose and went straight inside. I couldn't let him go yet! Viscount was about to leave after seeing Fiona, but I managed to get to him while he was on his way out.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but may I have a word with you?" I asked him. Fiona gave me a pointed look and was about to object, but Viscount nodded, stepping aside.

"In private?" I breathed, loud enough for only him to hear. He raised an eyebrow at me before excusing himself. I could feel Selma's watchful eyes as he led me outside into the small courtyard.

"Er, I'm sorry for bothering you," I told him the first thing.

"It's not a bother," He spoke politely but raised his voice slightly to add, "But I could discern why it must be a bother. The servants here act as if they own this place,"

In response, I heard some footsteps hurrying away. I couldn't help but throw my head back and laughed. Though he didn't join me. Instead, he's studied me with his warm yet pensive eyes.

"The Emperor sent her," I told him.

"I could tell," He nodded. "So what is it you needed to talk about?" He asked, stepping closer.

"I..." I forgot what I was about to say for a moment, but I forced myself to concentrate, "I don't understand Vittoria's last letter," I told him after raking my brain for a few moments. He remained quiet all the while, studying me.

"What did it say?" He asked.

I opened my mouth and closed it, realising it would be hard to explain to him if he saw the word 'brother' on the letter addressed to me.

"I... I cannot disclose that," I told him apologetically. "But the message felt incomplete in itself,"

"Well, she told me to make sure you stay out of trouble," He recalled, pondering.

"Anything else?" I pressed. "It really doesn't make any sense,"

"If you could just show me the mesas—"

"No!" I breathed instantly. "I think I'll just figure it out if I think about it for a while," I muttered.

"Alright then," He responded, not sounding convinced, "I must see you tomorrow at the celebrations,"

"I am not going," I told him.

"Why's that?"

"I loathe crowds," I told him. "Especially the loud ones,"

He narrowed his eyes slightly and gave me one of his sharp looks. A deafening silence stretched between the two of us before he whispered, "You know... you remind me of someone,"

_

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