I was sitting at my marble writing desk when the news came. Nene, my chamber maid, ran into the room, and quickly gave me a clumsy curtsy.
�A messenger just came a few minutes ago with word,� she said, and drew in a shaky breath. �Lord Thorold is dead.�
The golden quill I had been writing with slipped an inch from betwixt my fingers.
�How? When?� I knew that father had gone sailing with one of mothers �special friends�, but I didn�t actually think that she would be so obvious in his murder.
�About three days ago, at sea, during the storm,� she said, having slightly regained her breath. �They say that the wine had gotten to his head, and he had been washed overboard when he went on deck.�
A very likely story. Father has a reputation as a drunk, but him being such a generous Lord, people never said much about it. I wondered if mother was already celebrating the achievement of what she thought was a brilliant plab. Mother only married father for is large sums of money and his extraordinary and expensive gifts he bought for her. Before mother married father, she was just one of the maids in his castle. At fifteen, she was an exceptional beauty, and she came to fathers attention immediately. It seems that sometimes after mother became pregnant with me, father saw that it was his duty to marry the wench, since I was partly his fault. So about a month before I was born, my now sixteen year old mother married Lord Thorold, who was more than twenty years her senior, and became Lady Nira. Of course, the scandal was all over the large Island of Roseate before the wedding ceremony had ended.
So, as I have stated, a month later, I was born, and mother had named me Kigal. I was small and frail when I was born, and no one thought that I would survive until spring. Mother handed me over to my nanny, Bet, who gave me the pet name of Pebble. I grew up under the instruction of only the best tutors on the Island, and am now a learned pupil. Though my mother is gorgeous, I look nothing like her. I do not have her shimmering straight blonde hair, white skin, red lips, or curvy figure. I do not haver her perfect laugh, smile, or wind. I do not have her shining blue eyes or her flirtatious eyelashes. No, I have none of these. Instead, I have curly brown hair, and brown eyes. My skin is no white, but a strange pale tan color. I don�t have much of a figure, and I certainly don�t flirt. Sometimes I think that father was not the only man she had a fancy for, and after she found she was with child, told father I was his, because I don�t look like him, either.
�Has anyone told mother?� I asked Nene.
�No, Miss Kagil, I came to tell you first.�
�I�ll notify her. That is all, Nene,� I said, dismissing her. After I heard the door close, I buried my face in my hands, and felt the tears drip through my fingers. I was not close to him, but still, as far as I knew, he was my father. I was a part of him, and he was a part of me. That part of him in me is all that is left of Lord Thorold. He wasn�t the wisest of men, and even though he drank and gambled far too much, I couldn�t blame him, with a wife like mother. She always had a �friend� over, and was always asking father for more money to spend on frivolous things. Father was always very kind to everyone, the servants, and to the villagers that lived in the nearby settlements. He would throw an annual festival for all of the villagers for miles around. Their would be food, drink, booths they could set up to sell cloth, earthenware, ribbons, and leather and metal goods.
I pulled out my handkerchief I kept in my sleeve by my wrist and wiped my tears away as I prepared to go and tell my mother what she already knew. But what would I say, how would I put it, in a way which showed indifference so as to hide my weakness? I contemplated this as I walked down the dark hallway, filled with the hazy yellow light of the candles. The black curtains were drawn together, and as I lightly passed my hand over them I could feel the warmth of the sunlight that was fighting to get through. Mother didn�t like the light. She thought it would ruin her delicate skin and make her complexion dark, like a �common laborer�. I bit back a harsh smile. Does she forget who she was, what she is? Sometimes her arrogance appalls me. She is only and arriviste, and that is all she ever will be to out people. I stopped outside mother�s room and while I was smoothing over my dress, I heard a slight murmur. I leaned forward and made use of my keen hearing.
�You fool, Jitlon, what have you done?� I heard my mother whisper harshly. I could hear the rustle of her gown, and her quick footsteps going to and fro on the cushioned carpet.
�I had an opportunity, and a solid base for an accident. It was perfect, Nira. No one will question the story.�
�I could have done it myself, Jitlon, you�ve ruined everything!�
�What do you mean? The money, the land, the power, it�s all ours!�
�Have you not seen the will he wrote up before he left on the boat? If he was to die, everything would go to Kigal! Now we have a new problem on our hands. Now I will have to get rid of the chit.�
There was a silence, and a hesitant movement on Jitlon�s account.
�You would murder your own child?�
Mother laughed quietly.
�My child? Do you really think that little brat is my child? I bought her in back of the local brothel when I lost mine. Good timing too, since her whore of a mother was going to drown her in a bucket like and unwanted kitten. But no, I wouldn�t kill her. It�s too much of a coincidence.�
I was somewhat shocked at this news. So some of my suspicions were true, but the manner in which I was taken into the Tresmot household was more scandalous then I expected. Either way, I always thought my mother was a whore, so at least in that I was not disappointed. What saddened me considerably was that Lord Thorold was indeed not my father. What shocked me was that Nira- I must think of her as Nira know, since she is truly not my mother- had not stumbled into the back alley of the brothel and bought me for the few gold coins I was worth, I would have been drowned like an animal. The thought made me bitter. It seemed that I owed this bawd my life.
�The only plausible way to cleanly rid of her is to marry her off to someone who had limited political and social power. I don�t want her trying to seize what I have worked so hard to achieve.�
I slightly raise my eyebrow at this. Nira wasn�t as ignorant as she seemed.
�And what of the will?� Jitlon asked.
I could here the smile in her voice. �What will? It was very wise of me to council Thor to let one of my close friends to be the only to witness. Otherwise, I�d have to rid of him also. But it matters not. The girl is of marriageable age and will be a wonderful asset to a mining accountant�s home. Tomorrow I will simply have to locate that elusive scrap of paper and dispose of it.�
I frowned and pulled away from the door, quietly making my way to my room. I had scheming of my own to do. My future and that of Roseate depended on it.