The Letter, Part 6
“What does it say?” she prodded. “I think it’s about time I learned what’s in that envelope.”
Gilbetron carefully pulled out the sheets of paper, some of them so thin he was worried it would literally fall apart in his hands. He placed the first page on his lap, looking it over and trying to figure out how to even begin.
“Here,” she said, putting her hand out, “let me look it over myself.”
Acquiescing, he passed the sheets over to her and watched as she immediately began unfolding the pages and poring through them. Surprisingly, there was no confusion in her face, as there had been on his. Whatever the meaning of the letter was, she seemed to have some greater understanding of it than he.
After several anxious minutes, she put down the last page and looked over at him concernedly.
“Forgive me,” Gilbetron said, “but you don’t look surprised.”
She sighed deeply, folding up the pages and placing them back in the envelope. She stood up and began walking across to her armoir, placing the letter on its top, face-up.
“Gilbetron, there are certain things you don’t know about our land’s history, things that only the ruling classes are privy to,” she said softly, returning slowly to the sitting area where he was still waiting. “It will probably take some time to explain the details, but…” Her eyes softened for the first time that day, and Gilbetron knew that whatever unknown obstacle had come between them was beginning to thaw.
“I have all the time in the world,” he reminded her. “I’m not expected back until the night after next. Coming home any sooner would be an indication of trouble among the people. Surely we would want to avoid that.”
“That’s the problem, Gilbeton. I’m not sure there is a way to avoid public panic. You see, this letter is nothing but a formal notice.”
“A formality notice of what?” the prince asked.
Her response sent a chill through his spine. “Invasion.”