Her father had visited her once a month without fail ever since she was little, but he had missed the last two months. Instead, he’d sent a letter with a messenger, who’d then grabbed a bunch of medicine and left.
“I don’t know. It sounds like he is still far away,” her mother replied sadly as she boiled some herbs in a kettle.
Misha had to struggle not to click her tongue in frustration. Her mother would scold her in an instant if she did, so she made sure to suppress the urge.
She knew how much her mother loved her father, and though she never said it, her mother clearly missed him and worried about him. They did their best to make as much medicine as they could, hoping it would be at least a little helpful, but they didn’t even know if it reached him.
The only news they got from the outside was from their father on his monthly visits, or the irregular mail birds.
“Maybe we should send a mail bird?” Misha suggested.
Her mother thought for a moment but ultimately shook her head. “We need to save that for emergencies. I don’t think this counts.”
Mail birds were the primary means of communication in this world. These birds were trained to travel specifically between two places, carrying letters tied to their legs. They were smart, capable of following simple instructions. Consequently, they were extremely expensive. Even the high-ranking nobility usually possessed no more than a small handful of their own. On top of there being very few of the birds in nature, they lived deep in the dangerous wilderness, had temperamental natures, and warmed up to people slowly. Ideally, you grabbed them before they hatched, so they could be raised by hand. That made them exceptionally costly.
Misha’s father was a bit of a worrywart, so even though they were used to living in the forest alone, he was always concerned there might be an emergency. Despite the exorbitant cost, he had left one of those invaluable mail birds for the two of them to use. Or rather, he had brought a mail bird egg to them just before it hatched. Luckily, Misha’s mother had a way with animals, so she had managed to raise it herself, but it had been quite the trial.
Although her father was always worried about them living deep in the forest, they were quite self-sufficient. Even if they got sick or injured, they had the skills to take care of themselves, so they rarely needed to use the mail bird. As a result, the bird, who they had named Kyne, now flew freely around the forest, vying for a spot at the top of the food chain.
“Kyne’s super smart. He’ll find dad even if he isn’t home.”
The first time they had sent Kyne off to deliver a letter, they had carelessly just told him to go to Misha’s father, not to the mansion. As a result, though they still didn’t know how he did it, Kyne had tracked her father down in the middle of traveling around on his inspections and delivered the letter to him in the field.
Misha’s mother gave a sheepish grin. Normally mail birds stuck to a fixed route. You would raise it in one spot, then take it somewhere else and let its instincts for returning home bring it back. You repeated that process over and over. By getting the bird to associate a word with the place you set it free from, it would link the two together in its mind.
Really smart birds could remember two or three places, but they had only taught Kyne to travel to Misha’s father’s mansion—or so they had thought. Her father had all but ignored the letter that time, rushing over to find out what they had done to teach the bird to find him. He had brought a birdkeeper with him to thoroughly investigate their methods, but in the end, they could only conclude that Kyne was a particularly smart bird.
“I think it’d be a good idea to have some idea of what he’s been up to. I’m curious too.” Misha tried a little harder to push her mother, who responded only with a gloomy shake of her head.
Misha didn’t know what it was like to live in her father’s mansion. The forest had been her home ever since she was born. She hadn’t even visited his mansion a single time. She had seen some of the villages on the edge of the forest, but that was as far as she had traveled. She knew a lot from being told things, but everything she’d learned about the country, her father’s lands, and his mansion came from her parents’ stories and her books.
Clever as she was, Misha was starting to notice what was unspoken.
Her mother was her father’s concubine. Her father had been betrothed at a young age, so the position of his official wife had already been taken. Being a commoner from a foreign nation, she had no chance of being a duke’s wife. She couldn’t even handle life in the city, after all.
But considering how adaptable her mother was, Misha had to wonder whether the situation was more complicated than that. So, she put her mind to work. She questioned, for example, why her father never spoke about his family back at the mansion, and why her mother didn’t want her going to visit.
Not that I mind. I’d probably be really nervous surrounded by that many people. Living in the forest is fun enough.
Misha had no interest in city life. Trying to abide by all the manners and customs expected there would be stifling. The rigid rules of noble life that her mother had taught her were far too restraining for a girl who’d grown up running free in the woods. She still had dreams like many young girls—it wasn’t like she had no interest in the fancy dresses they wore—but she was exhausted just imagining being trapped in one all day every day, forced to follow a thousand rules. Some people were just cut out for different lifestyles.
But right now, she felt she needed to poke for answers every time she saw her mother worrying, longing to see her father, yet unwilling to make a move on her own. What had happened?
“Anyway, he’s a duke,” Misha said. “He may lead from the rear, but it’s not like they’ll send him to the front lines, right? I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’m done grinding these, by the way. Should I put them in the pot now?”
However, even if she felt that way, she didn’t want to stress her mother any further, so she changed the subject. Until the actual problem was solved, it was a routine they’d repeat over and over, but as she wasn’t personally involved, Misha had inevitably grown a bit numb to it.
“Good work. You’ll get better results if you let the rest of the pot cool first, so just leave them on the table there for now.” Misha’s mother’s shoulders immediately relaxed as she took the change in topic in stride.
Following her mother’s instructions, she left the now powdered herbs on the table. “If we’re done for now, should we break for lunch? I want to check how the dried meats are doing. Can I try a little bit?”
The rabbit they’d snared the day before had been quite plump. They had caught plenty of food that day, so they’d placed some leftovers outside to dry in the sun. Misha adored meat that hadn’t completely dried out yet, that was still somewhat soft. It was one of her personal favorites.
Seeing how excited she was, her mother nodded with a laugh. “Just a little, okay? Don’t stuff yourself.”
“’Kay!”
Despite her mother’s word of caution, food was the only thing on Misha’s mind as she stepped out of the room, completely missing the sound of her mother’s sigh.