Young Writers Society

Dear Myal,

You’re probably wondering what in the world is going on between Erson and myself. I am writing to you to explain.

Buck set his quill down for a moment. He was alone at the table in Victane’s dining room, with his plate from lunch shoved out the way. In front of him was a loosely woven thread placemat, on which he had placed his newly replenished pile of parchment. He stared at the words he had just written, desperately hoping they would salvage his friendship.

I am writing to you to explain. But how could he explain what he’d done? How he’d lied about his identity of the entire time he’d known her? How he’d intended to manipulate her brother into a marriage he didn’t initially want? It was entirely fair that Erson wouldn’t want anything to do with him, and Myal for that matter. All Buck knew was that it had been a week and he missed her.

Just as he was putting quill back to paper, he heard the groan of the key in the house’s front door. Ostensibly, Victane and Dorrea were not living together, but as expected he could hear both their voices drifting in from the hall. Dorrea had her own house just a few streets away, which had ironically just been vacated as a result of a couple moving in together. Yet somehow all three of them seemed to be spending most of their time here – it wasn’t like Buck had had many shows to get ready for in his treehouse.

“Hi, Buck, how’s the letter going?” Dorrea asked as she came into the room. She draped a faun cardigan over the back of the chair opposite Buck. It was made of an interesting shimmering material; it seemed the shopping trip had gone well.

It was only as her question sank in that he realised how long he’d sat in thought before writing those words. He’d started trying to write this letter as they left, and seemingly all he had to show for it was two sentences and lots of questions he didn’t know how to answer.

“Not great,” Buck said, picking up the stack of parchment and squeezing it back into his bucket, which was under the table. He gave Simone a quick scratch on the head then looked back up at Dorrea. “How was the shopping trip? I like this.” He gestured towards the cardigan.

“Oh, it was wonderful,” Dorrea said. “I’ve been sweltering in my thick cotton coats and blouses all week. Now I look like a Resadorian again. Or at least, I think I do. It’s been a while. But I remember liking long things like this.”

Victane lugged in an enormous knapsack, grunting as he hauled it up onto the table. Buck had to grab his lunch plate out the way, managing to clear space just in time as Victane untied the string around the cloth. With a quiet thump, neatly folded clothes collapsed sideways and spread out across the table. There were shirts and skirts and short trousers and one huge wide-brimmed straw hat. There was also a seemingly brand new, freshly cleaned old Royal Guard uniform. Buck had no idea where Victane had found that, but he thought maybe that explained the beaming expression on his face.

“That,” Victane said, “was an excellent afternoon. Are you staying for dinner, Buck? I think I shall make a nice chilli with these beans I got from the market.”

Buck glanced out the window at the setting sun. “Oh gods, is it dinner time already? I’m meant to be heading to Misene’s. He and his partner Wailune have the same night off for once and they’ve invited over Rydone and I.”

Buck got up and whirled his dark red cloak over his shoulders. He slipped the handles of his bucket along his arm to the crook of his elbow and looked over at the two of them.

“Alright. Ready to go,” he said. “I’ll probably go straight home to the treehouse after so I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Dorrea smiled at him as she rubbed some shiny cloth between her fingers. “Alright, dear. Have fun with your friends.”

Victane nodded at him and said, “Say hello to Wailune for me. He’s been putting in some hard shifts at the palace from what I hear. That’s a dedicated guardsman, that boy.”

Buck nodded back as he moved towards the door. “I’ll be sure to do that. See you both!”

Dorrea and Victane said goodbye in unison as Buck left the room. He strode quickly to the door, then started hurrying across the town. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too late for dinner.

Misene and Wailune lived on a terraced street near the tavern Buck had frequented most often in his time living here. In fact, many a night had ended with some combination of Buck, Misene and Rydone stumbling through the door and collapsing on the couches – sometimes Wailune too as Misene got to know him – so there was a rush of warmth for Buck as the door came into sight. The dark blue paint was somewhat chipped, but it always had been. Misene had talked about painting it, but he’d “not gotten around to it” for so long that painting it now would have been a desecration of tradition.

He knocked on the door as he always had, and grinned as Misene answered it.

“Hi, friend,” Misene said, also grinning.

“Hello,” Buck said, stepping forward to hug him. He’d seen Rydone and Fusane a bit this week, but Misene had been subsumed by the joint tasks of parenting and his work in a nearby bakery. In fact, he’d had to leave halfway through the welcome ceremony for a shift of work. This wasn’t altogether a loss for him given how uncomfortable that ceremony had been, but it meant Buck really hadn’t properly got to greet him yet.

They walked inside and into the living room, where Rydone was reclining in an armchair and bouncing a little baby up and down in her lap. She looked up as Buck entered, her mouth hanging open as she looked from him to the baby and back to him.

“Are you seeing this, Buck? This is a whole beautiful, amazing little person! Before you know it she’s going to have her own opinions and play terrible fiddle music. Aren’t you, Lundene? Aren’t you?” She nuzzled the baby’s neck. Lundene curled up around her and made happy shouting sounds.

Buck sat on a less comfortable wooden chair next to Rydone. There was a low squeak as he pulled it towards her along the well polished wooden floor.

“Hey, if you’re talking about Fusane, he has got so much better in the time I’ve been away,” Buck said, reaching over to tickle the baby’s cheek.

Misene sat on a little foot stool that was currently stranded in the centre of the room, perhaps to free it from the couch and turn it into a seat in its own right.

“He has,” Misene said. “I heard him a couple of weeks ago while I was at work. I didn’t know there were so many songs about bread.”

Buck chuckled. “Oh, that might be my fault. I was trying to flatter your boss once to get free baguettes for a thing at the palace and I just sort of… got carried away.”

“You know, I thought that,” Misene said. “It was like I could hear you even though you were miles away.” Misene’s eyes wandered off and looked out the window. The sun had set on Buck’s way here, so he was just staring into darkness. Buck glanced at Rydone, who smiled with one side of her mouth and shrugged. There was something vaguely comforting in Misene getting lost in a world of his own thoughts when he was thinking about something difficult – at least not too much had changed while he’d been away.