A Change of Heart: The Scribe, #1

Chapter One

Essylt stood at the bottom of the steps that led up to the castle. A quick glance to her left made her stomach fly up into her throat. Already the castle servants had started to erect a bridal tent. She snapped her head forward, trying to remember why she was here. Essylt squeezed the banister with her left hand and ran up the steps.

She had to know why. Essylt could not live alone in her thoughts any longer. Whatever the truth was, no matter how painful it was, she had to know. As she approached the castle doors, she couldn’t help but think about when everything had started five months ago. If someone had told her then what it all would lead to, she honestly didn’t know if she ever would have come to this castle in the first place.

***

Shaking out the cramp in her left hand, Essylt used her left hand to grab a new piece of parchment. She slid it to the top of her desk, preparing to start writing again

What's my next task, Robin? she called out to the young man standing at the back of the shop.

We've an order from the castle, he said. Robin found the scribbled piece of parchment he'd written just that morning and brought it to her. The king and queen need one hundred of these by tomorrow at sunrise. One of the benefits of living in the town closest to the castle was being the castle's scribe of choice, although it did also mean large work orders on short turnaround times.

Essylt dropped her head into her hands. I'm going to spend the entire evening in here, she sighed, rubbing her eyes in anticipation of the long night ahead of her. Robin walked up behind her and rested his hand on her shoulder, unintentionally letting his touch linger too long.

After dropping his hand to his side, Robin sat on the chair next to her. I've prepared your paper, and I figured that you could rest tomorrow. I'll take care of the shop and you can sleep. I wish I could do more, but... He trailed off as it became clear that nothing he was saying was helping. He cleared his throat and grabbed a stack of paper from the shelf above Essylt's head. There are 102 pieces here, in case you need to rewrite one or... His words felt like a lump of day-old bread in his mouth, and he couldn't seem to get a single thought out. I'm off to bed now, will you let me know if you need anything?

She smiled weakly and nodded, hoping he would just go to his room at the back of the shop and let her be. When she had a big job like this, she just wanted to be left alone. Robin touched her shoulder one more time—more for his benefit than hers—and then retreated to the back of the shop.

Essylt tilted her head side to side, stretching out a kink in her neck. She reached for her pen, a sense of dread filling her as she thought about the long night ahead of her. She gazed at the sheet of paper on which Robin had hastily scribbled the order and smiled in spite of her crabby mood. Anyone else who looked at this wouldn't be able to read it, but after working with Robin for nine years she could decipher anything that came from his pen.

Grabbing a scrap piece of parchment from the corner of her desk, Essylt started thinking about her design for the invitations. She knew she only had a couple minutes to come up with something unless she wanted to be working well past sunrise. After a few moments, she sketched out a design and set it at the head of the desk. Pulling out the first piece of parchment Robin had set out, she took a deep breath and started writing.

After three hours, Essylt finally pulled herself back from her desk and stood up. She looked dejectedly at the stack of invitations she had finished. There were barely forty there, and she still had sixty to go. Essylt paced around the small room that served as her and Robin's scribe business. She wandered to the back of the store, where her and Robin's bedrooms stood. She gazed through his open doorway, envious of how peacefully he slept while she stayed awake working. Walking back up to the storefront, she looked outside—it had to be close to midnight. At this rate, she would be working until at least 4 A.M.

She slowly lowered herself back into her chair; if she had that much left to do, there was no point in wasting time.

***

By the time 5 A.M. rolled around, Essylt's whole upper body ached and her mood was worse than it had been in months. She threw her pen on the desk, leaned back, and rubbed her eyes. When she opened her eyes a few short seconds later, she found her gaze fixed on the extra pieces of parchment set aside for errors—neither of which had been used.

An irrational rage filled Essylt's chest. Since she had turned 15, she had been toiling in day in and day out in this same little room. She would likely be doing the same thing in 15 years and 15 years after that. Meanwhile, the people that would be receiving these invitations had been sleeping soundly for eight hours.

A demon of a thought clawed its way into Essylt's mind as she stared at the blank sheets of paper. He did say he'd give me the whole day and night off...her mind taunted her. But to write an invitation to the ball for herself would be a blatant misuse of the castle's resources. Were she to be found out, it might even be treason.

Then again...Essylt had never met any of the royals, just the lackeys that brought their scribe work into the store. Just one night of merriment would be enough to cure her bitter mind. One night, and she would return to the store refreshed and accepting of her life's path. Before she could change her mind, Essylt grabbed one of the spare sheets and wrote one final invitation. She blew out the candle that had illuminated her work all night and stole away to her bedroom, tucking the invitation carefully between her dresses.

She was asleep within minutes.

***

When Essylt next opened her eyes, the view through her window was already darkening, and she had the distinct feeling that she had missed most of the day. She slipped out of bed and smoothed down her braid. Wrapping a blanket around her to block out the cold November air, she padded out to the main room of the house.

What time is it, Robin? she murmured, rubbing her eyes. He looked up from the table and set his work down to greet her.

It's half past four, you've missed most of the day, he commented, grabbing a flat wooden plate from one of the shelves in their bare kitchen. A moment later, he presented her with a plate holding a thick slice of bread, an apple, and a dab of butter.

Essylt's eyes widened as she realized that she had to be at the ball in just over two hours. She took a bite out of her bread and then thrust the plate back into Robin's hands. I have to go, she muttered, slipping on her shoes and wrapping her winter shawl around her. I'll be back in a bit. With that, she stepped out into the street, leaving Robin feeling bewildered.

The cobblestoned street was slick and damp, thanks to an early morning rain that left the sky dark and bleary all day long. Pulling her shawl more tightly around her wide shoulders, Essylt crossed the narrow road and started the downward slope to the east end of the street.

Finally, she reached a solid brick building, smaller even than her and Robin's residence. Essylt peered into the window and then stepped into the shop.

A tall, buxom woman looked up from her work table and smiled widely at Essylt. Despite her worry and panic about the evening ahead, Essylt smiled back at her. Milla! she exclaimed.

Milla stood up and crossed the room to Essylt, warmly embracing her. Ess! It's been so long. By which, of course, she meant the 24 hours since they’d last visited. Standing back, she gripped Essylt's shoulders and looked at her critically. You look worried. Why aren't you working? Why do you look as if you've seen a ghost? What's bothering you?

Overwhelmed by the flood of questions, Essylt sank down into a worn, soft chair at Milla's work table. I worked all night on something for the castle, so I've slept most of the day. She picked at the skin around her fingernails, glancing around the shop to assess Milla's workload for the day. And I need your help.

Milla sat across from Essylt, intrigued. What can I do for you? It's a slow day here, I was actually just going to have a little rest, but if you have something more exciting in mind...

Essylt glanced behind her at the door, making sure that no one was eavesdropping. She leaned in towards Milla and lowered her voice. Well, the project I was working on—they were invitations for a ball this evening. She paused, wondering if it was safe to continue. I had some extra paper, so...I wrote an extra one out. She waited for Milla's reaction. When it did not come, she clarified. For myself.

A sly grin filled Milla's face. Oh, Essylt! I didn't know you could be so deceitful! Why do you need my help? I have a visitor tonight, so I can't go with you, but—

I need a dress. You know what I wear all the time, and you know I will never make it into the castle wearing my own clothes. Can you please help me? I so badly need a change in my life. Essylt paused as she thought about what Milla had said. What do you mean you have a visitor? Milla wiggled her eyebrows lewdly and Essylt's face flushed. Milla! Who is it now?

Milla shrugged, feigning coyness. Who knows? Perhaps it is your Robin—if you will not make a man out of him, I may as well. Essylt glanced down at the ground, wishing she had never asked.

If you wish to have Robin, go ahead. I have no claim on him, Essylt said, her voice strained. She knew that Milla didn't really love Robin; she simply liked to pester Essylt about him.

Milla grimaced, her joking tone from a moment earlier gone. I'm sorry, Ess, I didn't mean it. I just—it's hard to see the way he looks at you, knowing that it's one-sided. It was just a joke. I always hope that someday you will wake up and love him. She coughed, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

Anyways, a dress. Of course I can help you with that! Come with me, you can choose one of mine and wear it tonight. Milla grabbed Essylt's wrist and pulled her to the back of the house. Her room was separated from the rest of the house by a heavy, patterned curtain that hung down around the bed and her clothes.

They both stepped into Milla's room. Essylt watched as Milla scanned a pile of dresses laying near the bed. How do you have so many dresses, and why do you only wear a few of them? she asked.

Milla turned from her search for a moment and smiled at Essylt. They're from admirers. I keep most of them unworn in case I need to pawn them. Business isn't always consistent, you know. With that, she turned back to the dresses and finally pulled one out. I found one, Ess! She held up a long, forest green gown with fitted sleeves. A thick white ribbon tied the torso of the dress up into a corset style. Essylt gasped as she looked at it. It was more beautiful, and probably more costly, than anything she had ever owned in her life.

Milla, I have no way of paying for a dress like this. Perhaps something simpler or less expensive? She ran a finger over the soft fabric of the dress, wondering what it would feel like on.

Milla smiled and pushed the dress into Essylt's hands. It doesn't fit me, anyways, she said, gesturing to her chest. I can only assume he bought it for his wife and passed it on to me when she refused it. Essylt grabbed the dress and held it to the plain gown she was already wearing. She breathed deeply, slowly coming to the realization that the ball was really going to happen for her.

Okay, um...  Essylt's mind raced. I need to dress, I need to do something with my hair, and most importantly, I need to get out of the house without Robin knowing where I am going. She let out a loud sigh and looked up at Milla. What do I do? Milla smiled, grabbed the dress, and sauntered out of the room, nodding at Essylt to follow her. Essylt trailed after her, anxious to find out what Milla had in store.

Milla picked up a tiny wooden bowl the size of her palm and carried it over to Essylt. Turn, she commanded. Essylt stood with her back to Milla and remained completely still as she ran her hands through Essylt's hair. Essylt winced as she felt Milla pull and twist her hair. After just a few minutes, Milla was done. She held a small mirror in front of Essy's face. What do you think?

As she looked at herself in the mirror, Essylt gasped. Her hair was smooth and twisted away from her face. The rest of her hair tumbled down her back, the curls separated and glossy. How did you do this? she asked, turning around to look at Milla.

Milla held up the brown bowl. It's a special oil I use—difficult to find, but for tonight, very necessary, she said. Her opinions on Essylt’s unruly hair were well-known by Essylt. Anyways, you don't have to explain anything to Robin. Yes, you live with him, but you work together. You are not wed to each other, you are not lovers. Just tell him you are going out. After you leave your house, come here and put on your dress. You'll be back home and asleep before daybreak.

Essylt nodded fervently, despite her gut feeling that it was wrong to deceive Robin. She knew that she didn't owe him an explanation, but knowing Robin, he