My Word - Lette

I dreamt of him again. No, not him thankfully. The one I had lost. I saw him as a cloud above a river. I spoke to him but received not an answer. Only reassurance in my own words. From there I awoke to my thoughts. Just recollections, memories of our time together. A painful thing. I had little time to dwell on it, this day had been long overdue and I would be the last to delay it further.

I arose weakly, crumbling beside the bed. A pitiful start to my first and last day as Matron. The centuries in my bones give no yield even on the happiest of days. Though it would be an unhappy day for most in my shoes, it was again, long overdue. 40 years ago it may have shocked me, brought tear to my eyes, many a night spent mourning my loss, but now after all is said and done, it is a blessing. They lay father to rest at sunset. I was to read my first decree to a crowd at the time, but I won’t be there. I itch not for my brothers arrow in my chest or sisters dagger in my back. By the time they realize I have gone, it will already be in motion. Stumbling to my desk, I put quill to parchment. The last bit of politics and bureaucracy that would ever defile my signature. Should this day go as planned anyway.

The deed done, I found myself in the bath. Normally a chance to relax, but this growing fear dug at my core. I have always been accustomed to watching my back, but it felt more personal now. I know my kin, my fall would be but a stepping stone to whatever their heart desired. I don’t blame them, we were raised this way but perhaps they too will change with time. Losing the things you care about tends to do that to a person. My thoughts grew to a conclusion, as did the bath. I took up a towel and dried myself by the steamer.
Donning my robe and cuirass, I crossed the hall to pick up the rest of my belongings. My crossbow would not be leaving my side today, that was a certainty. Furled parchment in hand, I sought out my assistant. A young Redoran girl in her 30’s. Thoroughly vetted by me personally. She would be loyal. My decree would be read aloud, with or without my presence. “Your word is law, my lady” she whispered, bowing and tucking the parchment into a waiting pocket. I then set about what would be my usual schedule, though with a bit more caution than normal. On the way back to my hall, I passed by father’s chair. My chair. I had a seat, giving myself one last chance to reconsider. All of the wealth, all of the power, mine and mine alone, as long as I could keep head on my shoulders and blood in my veins. A resounding “no”, again and again. I returned to my tasks, giving it not another thought.

At mid day, I retrieved my prepared backpack and weaved through the halls unseen. On to the kitchens, I set about filling my pack from the supply shelves. A near whistle caught my attention. It was that of the chef. Another trusted friend in this den of vipers. I told him little, but gave him a longing embrace and wished him goodbye, thanking him for his years of service and loyalty. He gave me fresh meat and bread but held no suspicion. Normally I would have lingered and enjoyed the scent of meat simmering above the mantle, it fills the room. A fine mist, like the meat itself had become the air in my lungs.

An ominous figure stood atop the final set of steps. Eldest brother, two years below me. “How fare you on this dreadful day, Lette?” he bellowed as my head dipped up from the shadows.
“As expected, I suppose”
I stepped past him, crossing my arms, keeping him in view as we made small talk. All was going as scheduled, I was to be at town square at sunset. I assured him I would be there though I caught his eyes on my pack on more than one occasion.
“I thought I would head down to the market myself to pick up something special for dinner tonight. I have already spoken with the chef” I said, slowly moving the conversation closer and closer to the door.
“Why not send out for it?” he pondered, planting a palm on his pommel.
He sneered, “ah, as you please, Matron”. A spiteful tone. I backed up to the door and let myself out.

The town was alive. News of the passing had brought in some optimism amongst the lower classes. A crowd had formed outside the cemetery, another forming in town square to my right. Many a gesture from brothers, sisters, friends and family darted up from the crowd. Some still wailed into handkerchiefs while others stood solemn, staring into the dirt. I paid them no head, continuing on my way. Into the slums. Nords and Khajiit busily struggled through their day. I tried to speak to everyone that would give me their attention. I wanted them to know that everything would be fine in our “trying times” and that things would be improving. They had my word on that. Just outside the docks I met one of my nieces. Her pet Durzog nibbled at the cuff of her pants, urging her to swat him away. Blonde haired and fair skinned. Fathered by a Nord as well I always imagined, though none knew for certain. She reminds me of my daughter at times. They were quite close as children. I wouldn’t call them friends, but they were classmates and would often be found playing together. It is difficult speaking to many of my nieces, especially the others with similar situations. It is a pain I do not need. She asked why I was not at the proceedings and for the first time today, I gave the truth. No anger, no outrage, only a sadness in her eyes. She lowered her head and went quiet. A comforting hand on her face brought her out out of it and was soon on my way.

The last stop, tall Azura. Her stone face gave me some much needed relief. I offered my respects beside a praying guard.
“Shouldn’t you be…? he started, but was interrupted by echoed gasps from town square. Followed by yelling and then rising pillars of smoke. Arcs of lightning spells, a full on riot from the sounds of it. It is done. I hid my smile and hurried on to the docks as the guard darted off to investigate. Expecting me, the captain lifted anchor on my approach. We set sail immediately. From my departing vista, I could see it all unfold. The crowd had dispersed, nobles held at armed guard as the common folk set out into the manor. The local Nords were given priority. Taking whatever they needed. My assistant followed the outer wall, tugging down our family banners and tossing them into nearby flames. The city gates were flung open, curious heads peeked in, only to be welcomed by allies on the inside. My decree had been taken to the letter. In all likelihood, the coming riots could destroy the town but my part is done. The wide river before us, I looked to the clouds. "Yarti, Sanbosm, I promise I won’t be too much longer.”