In Leyndell, the royal capital, Rellana frowned at a roll of parchment.
The scribbles on it were quite distinctive. They were clearly a mess of meaningless scrawls, yet Marika had called them a letter from the front.
The sloppiness itself had reached the realm of art-if "art" meant making something utterly illegible.
According to Marika, the letter concerned a plan to win someone over that required Caria's assistance, so Rellana had no choice but to read it.
Rellana held up the parchment, tilting it against the light from the window, trying to distinguish even a single complete word among those wild lines.
After a long while, she gently set the parchment down and gave up.
"What the hell does this say?"
She considered herself proficient in many scripts, including some ancient and obscure runes.
But the roll before her lay beyond her understanding.
Just then, the door to the side chamber opened.
Marika slipped in soundlessly, looking a little guilty?
"Well? Have you figured it out?" Marika leaned closer.
"That husband of mine is good at fighting, but his writing... ahem, it's quite distinctive too."
Rellana looked behind Marika, where the familiar Beast of Wisdom was crawling along at an unhurried pace.
"Marika, are you certain this is writing?"
Marika blinked, then lowered her head for a closer look herself.
When she had received the letter earlier, she had merely glanced at the cover and signature before hurrying to bring it to Rellana. She really had not examined its contents.
Now, as she looked at the scrawls, the same bewildered expression Rellana wore gradually appeared on her face.
"Uh..."
The two women of exalted status now stood side by side before the table, staring blankly at each other in an awkward silence.
A subtle atmosphere of "so you can't read