Forlaith: More Secrets

February 12

I'm hoping that tomorrow will be my last day confined to this damn bed! Yes, I know I spoke coarsely just now, but I doubt my real mother will read this journal and be in any position to wash my mouth out with goldenseal. I have only experience the the punishment once, but no matter how I tried I couldn't get the bitter taste out of my mouth. Only time could do that. Well we'll just hope she never reads this journal.

Saying a bad word seems rather unimportant these days, especially today.

Earlier this morning I was sitting with Kaplan. To my astonishment he has been my most constant visitor. Oswyn has practically disowned me. Mind you, I'm not complaining, just stating a fact. My other siblings have visited on occasions. From what I hear, Sadon had to be prodded into doing it. I, of course, tried my best to comfort him. He feels terrible for what happened to me, though I have told him repeatedly that it was just an accident. This helped and he started coming to sit with me on occasion. Still, Kaplan has nearly been my constant companion. I cannot explain it.

Kaplan, I have found, is a very gentle man though there is a fierceness about him which sometimes frightens me. It has never been directed at me, but when he discusses something he is passion about, it consumes him. I've come to realize he is not someone whom I would want as an enemy, but I don't think that would ever happen.

As I hinted at before, something very sad happened today. While Kaplan was sitting with me, reading a book of poetry from Odrar—something we did in secret, of course—Ardythe and Marcys entered. Kaplan casually tucked the book away before they could see the title. We both looked up and noticed their expressions; Ardythe looked stern, but Marcys looked uncomfortable. I don't know how else to describe it. His hands were tucked behind his back, as though he didn't want us to notice how they shook, and he kept his eyes on the wooden floor boards.

I glanced at Kaplan, who was also staring at Marcys. Before we could ask the steward what was wrong, the king spoke. “A letter arrived for you.”

Ardythe thrust the folded paper into Kaplan's hands. It was sealed with a wax seal I didn't recognize. He opened it and began reading, conscious of our gaze. It was a short letter, but long before he reached the end I could tell something was very wrong.

“It-it's from my sister-in-law. She says my brother has died.”

“Oh Kaplan!” I blurted out before Ardythe motioned for me to be silent. I bit my lip quite hard to keep from making another unnecessary exclamation.

“I need to go, my lord,” said Kaplan in a tone devoid of emotion. I wanted to hug him and tell him it would be okay, but I had to remind myself that Kaplan was a grown man and would not take such ministrations well.

“You can't go!”

The king's surprised Kaplan and myself, but Marcys appeared unfazed by the news and Ardythe's response, almost as though he already knew what the letter had contained and how the king would respond.

“What?”

“I need you here Kaplan. Our mission hasn't changed. I'm sorry about your brother, but I need you here. I need an heir.”

“What about my family's land?”

“They can go to your second son. Surely your steward can manage things until your son come's of age.”

I stared at Kaplan. Did he have children? No. I was positive he wasn't married. What little I knew about Ardythe's mission suggested that he would be marrying us off to someone. Could he possibly mean the children Kaplan would have in the future?

“I-I should really be there for my sister-in-law. This will lay heavy with her.”

“I have no doubt. But like all of us, we must make sacrifices to save the Island.”

Slowly Kaplan began to nod. “I'll write to her now.” With that, the prince climbed to his feet and started for the door. His movements were awkward, as though his brain wasn't able to concentrate on things like putting one foot in front of the other, or opening doors.

Ardythe turned to me. “Forlaith, you understand that this doesn't leave this room?”

I nodded energetically; I wanted him to feel like he could trust me in the hopes that he might tell me more.

“Good. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, my lord. Much better.”

Ardythe frowned at me until I realized my mistake.

“I mean father,” I whispered.

With that he nodded once and led Marcys from the room.

I can't say why exactly, but something felt off. Maybe it was just Marcys' awkward looks? Or maybe I'm over thinking things. Still, I can't help but feel that it is wrong for Ardythe to keep Kaplan here. Surely there is someone else who can pretend to be a prince, not to mention the other three “princes” he has on retainer here in the castle.

Everything about their conversation sounded as though something more wasn't being said and everyone but myself knew what that something was.

Well, I guess I will know his purpose for us when he chooses to reveal it and not before. I guess it is my time to learn patience.

Forlaith