Once Rauda was finally free from her interrogators, she followed the intruder’s advice and visited the old man in the archives. She’d been there countless times before, but she couldn’t remember ever having a proper conversation with the elderly archivist.
“Do you know anything about the truth of our nation?” she asked him.
The archivist looked visibly shaken, his eyes widening. “Wh-what could you be referring to, Your Highness? This old man doesn’t understand what you’re asking, I’m afraid.” If he was trying to deceive her, he was completely unconvincing.
“I want to know!” Rauda burst out. “I promise to keep whatever you reveal to me confidential. So, if you’re aware of something, please tell me. What is this ‘truth’ I don’t know about?”
The old man’s gaze drifted around the room as beads of sweat rolled down his face. After a few tense seconds, he seemed to make a decision. He moved to the rear of the room, plucked out a few hidden tomes, and then carried them back and set them in front of her.
“I was ordered to get rid of these a while ago. I suspect what you’re looking for is in them,” he said.
The books’ covers and pages were worn and ancient.
“Are these history books? Why would anyone order that they be…” Rauda trailed off as she cracked open one of the books and began perusing its contents. When she absorbed the secrets it contained, she was rattled. “What…what is this?”
The first tome she’d picked up recounted the history between Holfort Kingdom and the Principality of Fanoss. It was a story she knew well, but the details within differed wildly from what she’d been taught.
The old man kept his gaze lowered as he answered, “I don’t know whether that is the truth you’re looking for, but I can confirm that those are facts some within our nation have tried to bury.”
Hertrauda had grown up under the impression that Holfort was the source of all evils, but the history she was reading now painted the opposite picture: It had, in fact, been the Principality of Fanoss that started it all. She was so shocked that she was lost for words.
“I was ordered to dispose of these after the previous king and queen passed away,” the archivist explained. “But I was reluctant to follow through, given their value as accurate records of our history.” And so he’d disobeyed the order and instead stowed the books away.
Rauda’s entire body trembled. “And these…these are facts? This is all true?!”
But why—and moreover, how—did those intruders know about all this? If the archivist hid these and didn’t show them to anyone, how could they possibly know the books existed?!
The old man nodded. “Yes. Holfort did invade us twenty years ago, but it’s also true that we wreaked havoc within their borders before that.”
Rauda was in shock. This went against everything she knew, everything she’d believed. The story she’d been told was a convenient lie to hide all the difficult truths about Fanoss’s own culpability. It was like the very earth beneath her had crumbled and disappeared, leaving her in free fall.
“Why…why would anyone hide this? Why didn’t anyone tell us?” Her voice trembled.
“My deepest apologies, Your Highness.” The old man dropped to his knees and lowered his head, tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. “At one point, our country was split into two major groups: the pacifist faction and the pro-war faction. Your parents belonged to the former group. Almost immediately after you and your sister were born, the pro-war faction assassinated them.”
“My parents were…assassinated?” Rauda echoed numbly.
What the archivist explained next was actually an open secret within Fanoss. The royal family at that time had been strong advocates of peace. Given the complex history between Fanoss and Holfort, as well as the two nations’ distinct difference in military might, Rauda’s parents thought a protracted war would be unproductive and pointless. Their stance incensed the pro-war faction, which responded by murdering the king and queen and taking the princesses under their wing. That was how they’d reached their current situation.
Rauda crumpled to her knees. Fat tears tracked down her face. “This is too unfair!” she cried. “We really are just powerless figureheads.”
It finally made sense why they were treated so poorly at the castle, despite everyone referring to them respectfully. As far as the others were concerned, she and Hertrude were just convenient tools who could wield the Magic Flutes. There was no other meaning to their existence. People made a pretense of caring for Rauda and her sister, but their regard was paper-thin. None of them had ever considered the two their true princesses—not really.
“B-but wait…” Rauda swallowed the lump in her throat. “What about Vandel? He was my sister’s bodyguard. But only those from the pro-war faction—the very people who backstabbed our parents—ever approached us, right?!” Her panic rose like a tidal wave, threatening to crash over her.
Vandel was part of the pro-war faction, she knew that much. He was a hero, Fanoss’s savior. He had pushed strongly for the war between Fanoss and Holfort to continue. But if what the old archivist said was true, then…
“I don’t believe Lord Vandel was involved in your parents’ assassination,” the archivist answered with a pained look. “That said, he’s always been an important linchpin within the pro-war faction. I have a hard time believing he didn’t know about the murders beforehand.”
Rauda’s tears fell even faster as the betrayal of a man she’d so deeply trusted sank in.