"And…These are the files you requested from the Imperial Palace."
Leander's assistant slid a pile of documents his way.
"That's all- oh no wait," he dug through his back, as if remembering something.
"What is it?" Leander raised a brow.
"There was this very strange letter delivered for you, along with an additional note." the assistant fished out a scroll with a dark gray ribbon, and a small, folded piece of paper.
He put it in front of Leander, who examined it with furrowed brows.
"Who would send me-"
Dark gray ribbon.
The calm before the storm.
"...Oh. Right,"
"Is… it something related to Your Highness? Or shall I discard it-"
"No, it's for me. That's all." He waved his hand without looking up.
The man obediently bowed and left.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he opened the note.
But then he paused, puzzled.
Inside, two sentences were written in the same, smooth calligraphy as the scrolls he added to his workload yesterday.
'Since an agreement is only complete in b̶l̶a̶c̶k̶ blue and white.
Do you like mashed potatoes?'
"Mashed potatoes?" He stared at it "O…kay?"
Deciding to look at it later, he kept the note aside, and picked up the scroll instead, carefully undoing its ribbon.
But then he stopped again, brow raised.
"It's… empty?" he asked aloud.
"A riddle, huh…"
For a few moments, he stared at the two pieces of paper, mulling over the words.
"Blue and white, mashed potatoes, and an empty piece of paper."
He froze.
A grin crept up his lips.
"I really underestimated that woman," he got up from the desk quickly and ran to the kitchen.
. . .
"Seaweed?" the chef furrowed her brows.
"Yes, seaweed. Only a bit, though." Leander smiled sheepishly. "Do we have some?"
"Of course, Your Highness," the chef bobbed her head, "but, forgive me, what do you need it for?"
"To decipher a note."
In a few minutes, the kitchens were filled with the salty, and a bit fishy, aroma of boiling seaweed.
Leander quickly took out the scroll from his pocket and put it above the pot, exposing it to the vapors.
Instantly, blue ink bloomed on rough paper.
Leander grinned victoriously, holding it up like some kind of prize before running back to his office.
"Thank you, chef!"
. . .
The agreement didn't have anything new to it. Just the same terms they discussed yesterday.
But at the back of the paper, in a very small font, was a date. Leander was once again baffled.
"She really likes to see me pull my hair out."
He kept it at a side again and sighed.
"I need a break."
. . .
Leander sat down on his desk once more. Full and energized after his dinner.
He picked up his mail with a newfound motivation and began to sort it out.
On the top were state documents, peace treaties and whatnot. In between were a few from his family and close associates, which he handled after the official stuff.
After politics had been sorted, he opened a letter from his Mother.
Just the usual, greetings and health inquiries. She mentioned something about a tea party too. Nothing new.
Next was one from Damian. He was whining about how Thalia was being a pain in the neck. She couldn't find something to wear to a gathering in a few days.
After that, his Father was updating him on the Ashthorne-Montclair war. Apparently, the peace treaty he was going through earlier was of-
Wait.
He paused.
Slowly, the gears clicked into place.
He quickly grabbed Damian's letter and went through it again.
''...gathering in a few days…'
He then picked up his Mother's and did the same.
'...Montclairs will arrive soon…'
Finally, he picked up the scroll with the gray ribbon.
A date two days from now.
For a minute, there was silence.
Then, he burst out into laughter.
"That is one creative way to say 'meet me soon'." he wheezed.
"Oh Lord," he muttered, still laughing. "This is why I love her."
. . .
Artemesia tapped her foot impatiently.
The Ashthornes had withdrawn their threat, and compensated for emotional distress caused to the vassals of the Montclair Duchy.
Just as she had expected.
"Your move, Tia." Thedosia smirked.
She was sitting opposite Tia, looming over the chessboard.
Artemesia frowned. When did Thea's knights corner her queen like that?
"No need to celebrate, Mother," she moved another queen swiftly.
"Checkmate," her second and third queen had now fully cornered the Duchess' king.
A victorious grin spread on Tia's face while Thedosia just stared.
"When did you promote that pawn?!"
"When you weren't paying attention." It was Tia's turn to smirk.
Her mother huffed. "You're too good at this."
Artemesia laughed as the chessboard was replaced with a tray full of refreshments. Tea was poured into two cups and served in front of them, as well as a variety of snacks.
"Your unlimited chess victories is what keeps me from growing old," Thea shook her head, a small smile on her face.
"Oh? Your defeat is what keeps me busy, Mother." Tia plopped a sugarcube in her cup and stirred, lost in thought.
Why did Leander accept so quickly?
Why did he want authority over the divorce?
Why did Jonathan sign the peace treaty?
"What are you thinking so deeply about?" Her mother raised a brow.
Tia shook her head, "Nothing, Mother. Just… what will become of my future?"
Thedosia frowned, "That is not for you to worry about, love."
"I know, but I can't help it." She cupped her hand with her cheek.
"There's plenty of fine suitors for you to choose from." The Duchess reassured, "For instance, the Duke of Heisenberg, and the Princes of-"
"Mother, for the last time," The woman groaned, "do not dump random men on me."
The mother scowled, offended, "Excuse me?"
"I want to pick someone for myself," she muttered, "through my own understanding. Not just because I need a husband."
Thedosia sighed, "Alright. Fine. Do as you wish."