The Letter, Part 11
Telematrice sat down across the fire from Elder Fortrand, her keen eyes waiting for his to make contact. Gilbetron stood to the side, allowing his wife to carry the bulk of the conversation.
“You are Elder Fortrand?” she asked, though it was more a statement than a question.
At last, the old man looked up. His eyes were grey with exhausion, glazed to the point of nearing blindess. His skin was stretched tightly around the cheekbones, and wrinkled everywhere else. Though Telematrice knew otherwise, he had the appearance of a centenarian.
His only response was a nod.
“And you know who I am,” she continued slowly.
“Your father was Lord Reginald,” Elder said. “You are one of the Cursed.”
Gilbetron held his breath, waiting anxiously for Telematrice’s response. Most knew better than to refer to the Cursed Ones in the presence of the lady or any of her scattered sisters, but Elder, having lived through the Mysts’ scourge, had nothing more to fear from her.
In any case, her answer surprised the prince.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
Suddenly, he seemed to understand precisely what she had come to ask, and his eyes widened. A slow smile crept onto his face. “I understand,” he said.
She tilted her head to the side. “What is it you understand?”
“You have received the notice.”
Gilbetron stepped forward. “What notice, Elder?”
“Oh, I think you already know the answer to that.”
“We do,” Telematrice said, removing the letter from her cloak and holding it up for him. “I assume this is what you’re referring to.”
The old man nodded in astonishment, reaching his ancient hands out to touch the envelope himself. Before his fingers made it to their destination, he pulled them back. “It has already been opened?” he asked. He shot Gilbetron a sidelong glance. “By him?”
“Once again, you’re right,” Telematrice allowed. “Tell me, Elder, how is it that you know so much about this letter while the two of us have never heard of it, never mind the royal historians?”
“Because my family has lived here on the northern cape for hundreds of years,” he said. His eyes hardened suddenly, as though a terrible anger was coming over him. “And we remember everything!”