Encrid,
I heard that youâve been dispatched to the Wall.
And guess who I heard it from?
A man who delivered grain contracts to the southern borders.
Imagine my surprise when I found out that my own brother had been sent so far north, only to learn about it from a merchant. Not from Father. Not from the house. Not even from you.
I know most people donât consider me the Dukeâs daughter yet. Iâve grown used to that.
But I had hoped you would at least consider me as a sister and write to me.
I wanted to run to you the moment I heard. I wanted to know whether you were safe, whether you had arrived properly, whether you had been given a decent room, whether you were eating properly.
Instead, I was sitting here wondering why my own family thought I didnât deserve to know.
Iâm very angry as I write this.
I donât know whether Iâm angry at Father, at you, or at myself for being so helpless.
Father has given me new orders. Iâm heading east now.
The barbarian attacks are still continuing, but reinforcements from the capital have finally arrived, so Iâm no longer needed in the south.
Once I finish the work in the east, Iâll come to the Wall.
I will.
And since Iâm already writing, let me give you some advice.
Youâre living in a fortification built against the greatest threat the Empire has ever faced. So learn it.
Learn where the water is.
Learn which stair you use every day, and which one you should take if there is a fire. Learn the names of the men at the gates. All of them. Use their names.
Eat what they eat.
Donât make the mistake of having anything sent up from the south. A garrison will forgive almost anything except a man who eats better than it does.
And Encrid, I know youâre probably furious with Father.
Perhaps with the whole family.
But donât let that anger make you careless.
Whatever happened before you reached the Wall, youâre there now. So learn it. Survive it. Come back from it.
Iâll get to your side as soon as I can.
Just write to me.
Even one line is enough. I donât need a proper letter.
Just tell me youâre alive.
And doing well.This chapter was taken from NovelPing without permission.
Happy birthday, by the way.
I donât know if it was yesterday, today, or tomorrow by the time this reaches you. The roads have been terrible lately.
Iâve been thinking about buying you a communication crystal.
That way, I can talk to you whenever I want, and you wonât have the excuse of being too busy to write.
I havenât forgotten your birthday once in the sixteen years since I first saw you.
Thatâs sixteen to nothing.
So donât think being sent to the other end of the Empire is going to change that.
When all of this is over, weâre going to Selvaraâs.
You donât get to refuse.
Your dearest sister,
Zuri
⧠⧠â§
Jin read the letter twice.
Then he put it down on the desk, placed both hands flat on either side of it, and sat there while the brazier ticked and the office continued around him.
âSixteen to nothing,â he thought.
His eyes had gone hot.
He blamed Encridâs plumbing for it.
Across the room, Gus had stopped writing. He had probably noticed the change in Encridâs expression, but he didnât say anything.
He simply got up, filled Encridâs cup from the pot on the stove, placed it beside his hand, and returned to his letters.
Encrid didnât trust himself to say thank you and remain composed.
He picked up the cup instead and drank from it.
Gus seemed to understand perfectly.
As Encrid drank, a single question began forming in his mind.
âWho are you?â
It wasnât an insult directed at Zuri.
It was a genuine question that started to bug him.
He knew House Gannon from the novel.Find the original chapter at noâvelping.com.
The great house that ruled as the overlord of the North - a Dukedom powerful enough to shake the dynamics of the Empire.
He knew Duke Aegis Von Gannon, one of the four pillars of the Empire, a figure so powerful that he was always brought up when they discussed the most influential people in the empire.
He knew about his four children too.
At least, he thought he did.
Jin could recite their names.
There was Encrid, the disgrace mentioned only in passing.
There were his two brothers, both born to different mothers.
And there was the eldest daughter.
Except her name wasnât Zuri.
Jin turned the letter over in his hands.
A Dukeâs daughter.
A Master of the Water Element before thirty.
A commander with her own knights and her own campaigns.
She had held the southern border against the barbarians for six months.
That was in no way a background detail.
The novel had given entire Chapters to men who had accomplished half as much.
âSo why donât I know your name?â
He sat with the question.
Then, because it was late, the candle was burning low, and he still had four hundred tons of grain to account for, he did what he had done at the estate.
He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and gave himself an answer.
âThe novel didnât mention everyone.â
It didnât mention Gus. It didnât mention Merta, Tobb, or Fennick. It didnât mention the Commander of the Wall. The author wrote about the people who mattered to the plot. Everyone else simply lived off the page, where he wasnât looking.
It was a good answer.
It might even be true.
But he refused to finish the thought - to wonder whether the same could possibly be true for the Dukeâs daughter. He also considered the possibility of her being dead in the future but even if she had died, it still didnât make sense as to why she wasnât mentioned.
Jin folded the letter along its creases and placed it in the strongbox beneath the floor, beside the salvage gold and the other things that mattered.
Then he blew out the candle.
⌠⌠âŚ