Fake Princess
CHAPTER 67
My room, to be honest, wasn't too messy; I only needed a short time to tidy up the table. However, during the cleaning process, I found a pair of gloves that had fallen behind the table. It wasn't the gloves I used to wear and bought to help Paula collect plants, but the pair of leather travel gloves I wore when I left the palace.
I picked it up, finally remembering I took it out a few weeks ago to take a short trip out of town with Paula. However, Paula cancelled it at the last minute, and I must have put it on the table, then dropped it unconsciously. Raising my shoulders, I opened the chest that still contained the items I had brought from the palace, and started tidying it up. While doing so, my eyes were pounded on a roll of cloth that lay lightly on the folded dress.
Map of king Ardan's door. I haven't thought about it since I got back to town. Now I feel the sting of guilt as I carefully lift it up and lay it on a clean table. This map isn't mine, it wasn't. I had to return it to the palace, where there was a safe place to store it, somewhere other than the unused library niche that children could find.
The sting continued to increase, throbbing in my chest as regret merged with guilt. It would be nice, my mind, if we managed to find that door. I let my finger slide over the surface of the map, intending to roll it up again, but right at that moment something happened.
I read a word, one of the untranslated rune letters, written on the bottom of the map. For so long I could not breathe that, when I realized it, I flapped for air and finally coughed crazily. After managing to control myself again, then I dare to stare at the rune letters again.
It's the language of witches. Something I never learned while being a princess, something that even witches rarely use again. And these letters aren't even the latest form of language that Paula had to learn, but a more old-fashioned perspective, with curly curves at the ends of some symbols and something that seems to be the shape of a hunchback of some other symbol. Even so, I could at least read every third word, while bowing on the table in my room.
What was Devan's guess on our last day at the park? That this rune letter might be a code, or a magic language? Apparently, unexpectedly, Devan was right.
My hand gripped the table so tightly that my knuckle turned white. Too many words I don't know, or words that are so different from the latest version that I don't recognize them. And there were a few words at the very end that I had never seen in any form.
However, I realized when a grin spread across my face, I had the library of a witch downstairs, filled to the point of almost exploding by spell books and magic theory, he said, even treatises on various forms of witch language.
Sentence, my mind is tired. It could mean this sentence. Or fish. My eyes squinted at the rune letters on the map again, I turned my gaze to the open book that was on top of a stack of similarly thick books. Why would someone create a rune letter meaning a sentence and a fish with a shape that looks very similar? I wondered. Are they trying to make a joke?
Seriate