"Oh my…" Yeara spoke in surprise as she stared at the marble-blue coin for what felt like the hundredth time. She could not believe she was actually holding it. With this, she could buy lots of things…lots of fruits and books, more books.
She had not really expected that man to actually give her money, talk less of understanding her words. But regardless, she was happy.
At first, she did not want to take the money, but she realized that if she did not, it was not like they would ever meet again.
She dropped her basket and gently slipped the coin into her buttoned pocket.
Only if she knew this coin was more than that. It could buy land—not just that, but houses, even pure gold.
It was rare for a reason.
She moved, removing her shoes, then looked up as she sighed and smiled.
"Today is such a great day," she muttered to herself as she exhaled and inhaled loudly.
She was glad. She knew the sunberries would taste better since the sun rested directly on them. She rubbed her hands against the smoothness of the tree, feeling how steady it was, her eyes scanning the distance to judge how far she would need to reach to pluck the fruits.
She wrapped her hands around the body of the tree, then her legs, before climbing up. She was so pleased that the sunberry tree had smooth climbing places. She knew if her mama found out she climbed to get this rare fruit, she would be scolded.
****
An Hour Later.
"Meeeeehhhh!"
The goat bleated as it ran down the street, Yeara chasing after it. She held the basket in her hand as she ran, and since she had passed the marketplace, people stared curiously, including village children—wondering why a grown woman was chasing a goat.
Not to mention, they could easily identify her due to her white, beautiful hair.
For sure, rumors would fly around the village that Duke John's daughter was chasing a goat in the middle of the road, basket in hand.
Surely, it would be on the village newspapers, called Spill the Tea.
After a while, the goat bleated again as it ran into the compound at the back of the manor, before entering the small grass field where the other goats were. Yeara hurried forward and locked the gate. They must have forgotten to close it properly, and the goat had escaped.
She counted them to be sure. Nine.
She finally nodded in relief, then turned to the goat she had chased, glaring at it warningly.
"If you ever leave this place again, I will tell the lead cook to prepare you first," she warned.
The goat bleated again, looking away.
"Meeeeehhhh."
She turned and decided to drop the basket in the kitchen—but there, standing still, was Lady Persophone. Her expression was displeased. She had caught Yeara chasing the goat from upstairs in her tea room.
Very unladylike.
Yeara cursed herself for her carelessness as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself after the heavy run. She had passed through the back gate because the road she followed was shorter.
"Yeara John Berrington, can you explain yourself?" Lady Persophone asked, her face cold and sharp.
Yeara managed a small guilty smile. She was slightly sweating, she raised her sleeve to wipe her forehead. She knew when her mama called her by her full name, it meant she would be scolded heavily.
"Mama, it was not my fault," she said, lowering her tone as if revealing a scandalous secret.
"I caught our goat in the act, shamelessly flirting with Lady Lydia's female goat."
Lady Persophone's gaze deepened.
"Your language, young lady." Lady Persophone warned before adding, "And you chased the goat here instead of reporting to me. You took matters into your own hands, and now you will be the talk of the town," she said, moving her hand to her forehead in exhaustion.
Yeara shrugged. "Well, a star shines brightest."
She tried to lighten the mood, but Lady Persophone gave her a disapproving stare. Yeara lowered her head immediately.
"I apologize, Mama," she pleaded.
Lady Persophone's eyes shifted to the basket, noticing it was almost full.
"At least you brought one of my favorite fruits," she remarked, trying to lighten the mood a bit—she did not like seeing her daughter sad.
Yeara's eyes lit up. Her pink lips curved upward as she nodded proudly, she was the one who had introduced this fruit to her mama.
"Yes, Mama. And I picked the freshest ones and the most deliciousest."
'Was that even a word?' She wondered to herself
"That's lovely. Take it to the kitchen and come for lunch. Cedric is waiting," Lady Persophone spoke.
Yeara immediately moved carrying the basket, and she walked quickly through the hallway. Behind her, she heard Lady Persophone's elegant voice.
"Careful. Remember to be ladylike."
Yeara slowed her pace. She wanted to see Cedric, she could not wait to tell him she had fetched the sunberries.
She entered the kitchen, and immediately one of the servants rushed forward, taking the basket from her.
"Please prepare them," Yeara said softly.
The servant bowed in respect. Yeara walked out, heading toward the dining room. She noticed other servants rushing past, pushing rolling carts quickly.
Yeara entered the dining room with a shout, jumping slightly.
"Hi, Cedric!"
Cedric, who had been sitting, jumped up as well.
"Hi, Sister Yeara!"
They both laughed—that was exactly how they always were when they had not seen each other in minutes or hours. That was how they called each other.
Yeara walked calmly toward the dining table. The mouthwatering scent made her stomach growl softly. She sat in the chair beside Cedric. The table was filled with many meals, as it usually was, but she wondered what special event had made them prepare even more.
"How were your classes?" Yeara asked, placing the napkin on her lap.
Cedric did the same. He turned to her, his face no longer smiling as usual.
"It was better after she drank the tea. I enjoyed the class and learned new words," he said.
Yeara burst into laughter.
Cedric tilted his head, raising a brow as he stared at her. Yeara cleared her throat, trying to keep a serious face.
"Mama said Papa will be coming back from his travels tomorrow morning," Cedric added.
Yeara's face lit up with excitement. She could not wait for him to return. She could also introduce the sunberries to him—it would be perfect.
The large door opened, and Lady Persophone entered. She walked elegantly, posture straight, toward the table and took her seat. She nodded at them, and they began to eat.
Silence reigned for a moment before she broke it.
"Your Papa will be coming…" she paused. "Did Cedric already tell you?"
Yeara nodded. Lady Persophone chuckled softly. She had told Cedric to keep it a secret for a while, but he clearly could not hide things from his sister, she steadied her voice as she spoke again her face serious.
"Duke Larkin has made his wish to ma—"
Her words were interrupted by the opening of the door. The old butler walked in, holding a black envelope tied with gold ribbons.
"I apologize, Lady Persophone, but you have a letter."
Yeara lifted her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. Letters were not delivered during dinner unless they were essential, and even if they were, they were sent after mealtime.
Lady Persophone turned toward the envelope.
Her gaze shifted, just for a heartbeat—before she reached for it.
Then she froze.
Her body went rigid, the air around her turning cold.
That seal.
That handwriting.
There was only one person it could belong to.
And with dreadful certainty, she knew.
The letter was from…
King Zalthor.