Chapter 27.3: The Letter

  Dust hung in the air.

  Rosenna drummed her fingers against the table. Ten minutes into her shift, and she was already fighting the urge to scream.

  The communication chamber sat silent around her. Three rows of crystals on iron stands, all dark.

  *Ten minutes. I've been here ten minutes, and it feels like forever.*

  Her stomach growled.

  *Great. Now I'm hungry.*

  She reached under the table for her bag, the one she'd packed that morning with bread and cheese, and pulled it onto her lap.

  A letter sat folded on top of the food. She took it out and unfolded it.

  Mother's handwriting stared back at her as she started reading, those careful loops she always made, as if each word needed to look perfect.

  *My dearest Rosenna,

  Your father is impossible. Yesterday at the market, old Hemmel raised his grain prices. Two coppers. Just two! Your father stood there and argued with the man for half an hour. Half an hour, Rosenna! Everyone was watching. I thought the guards would come. I had to drag him away myself. He's still muttering about it.*

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  Rosenna rolled her eyes.

  *And when we got home, I found your sister in the main room. She knocked over the old painting. The one your grandmother gave us. The frame cracked right down the middle. She said she was dusting. Dusting! That girl doesn't know what a dustcloth looks like.*

  "She broke Grandmother's painting?" Rosenna shook her head. "Of course she did."

  *Your brother isn't any better. He's been seen with the neighbor's daughter again. You know the one. Her father came to our door last week asking about his intentions. His intentions! The boy is nineteen and can barely tie his own boots. I told him your brother has no intentions beyond making a fool of himself, but that didn't help. Now the whole village is talking.*

  A breath escaped her.

  "You idiot."

  *Oh, and speaking of the village talk. Did you hear? That girl from the Weston family, the one who moved to the capital last year, she married one of those summoned heroes. Can you imagine? They say he goes into the Abyss for work. Every few weeks, he leaves her to fight monsters in those cursed places. Your aunt says one day he won't come home. What kind of life is that for a wife?*

  The words sat heavy on the page. Her fingers tightened on the letter.

  "At least he's doing something. Out there fighting while I'm rotting in here."

  *How are you, sweetheart? We miss you terribly. Everyone in the village asks about you. They want to know what it's like working in the capital, carrying messages for the kingdom. We tell them how proud we are. Your father brags to anyone who will listen. Write back when you can. We love you.

  Mother*

  Rosenna folded the letter and set it down beside her bag.

  *They think I'm carrying urgent messages across the kingdom. Standing in council chambers. Making a difference.*

  She looked at the dark crystals. The bread sat in her hand, forgotten.

  *Anna's leaving today.*

  She set it back in the bag and pushed it under the table.

  *Don't die out there, idiot.*