Heirs of the Gods

Ch 19.2: A bird kept in a gilded cage

Ella nibbled on the tip of her dip pen, looking over her letter. She attempted to smooth out the creased edges where her fingers had worried the paper, as her eyes skimmed over what she'd scribbled in her flourish-free, no muss-no fuss handwriting.

Gidden,

These past days I've been thinking much about our last meeting. I can't help thinking that I would've liked to handle things differently, I never meant for anything to turn out the way it did. I especially never meant to hurt you or dismiss you.

I hope it's not too late to salvage our friendship. I miss you terribly and hope that you'll find it in you to arrange a meeting when possible.

-E

She sighed, biting her lip. It was the fourth time she'd attempted to write it over the past days, her other attempts lay crumpled and scratched in a wastebasket.

Ella had little experience apologizing to a friend.

It was different with siblings. She had too much of an age difference to ever quarrel with Rosemary and the times she fought with Grayson, they'd scream it out and maybe a few hours later, he'd show up in her room wanting to show her some outrageous story published in the gossip column, all would be forgotten.

With Cedric, they'd been friends for much too long to even consider calling it quits, they were indefinitely stuck with each other. The times she fought with him and it was her fault, she'd show up at his house and let herself in with the spare key, where he'd usually be sulking on his sofa. She'd nudge him and mumble some half-cooked apology, throw a packet of his favourite cigars on his lap–despite hating this terrible habit of his–and soon he'd snort, punch her shoulder and they'd be playing cards and bickering like normal.

Deciding to stop overthinking, Ella hastily folded the letter and stuffed it into an envelope, then she dipped her pen into the inkpot and scrawled Gidden's name at the bottom, hoping he would write back, even to let her know she was an idiot. At least to acknowledge her.

She tipped the wax stick and let it melt thick violet drops over the envelope, sealing the letter with a stamp. With a last glance at the envelope, she stuck it in her dress pocket, as a knock resounded on the door. She didn't get to call out permission for entry, Aedion simply barrelled through, his arms full of letters and wrinkly papers.

"Do come in," Ella deadpanned, watching as he unceremoniously dumped the enormous stack in front of her on the carved mahogany desk. "What's all this?" She took a crumpled up parchment with her pointer finger and thumb, using them like pincers.

"Paperwork," he said, flopping on her sofa with a grin, looking regal and careless all at once.

"Good grief, haven't you got a folder? This looks like you've pulled it out from the bottom of the bin," she looked at the monstrous pile of trampled papers.

"Close," he said. "I usually stuff them into my desk drawer and hope for the best."

At her unamused blank look, he chuckled. "I joke. I'm good at my job, but I'll be the first to admit that organizing paperwork isn't my strong suit. I tend to forget to file these papers. There's just so many," he said, wildly waving a hand. "Those are from this month alone, I can't be bothered to organize them when they just keep coming."

Glancing at the tower-sized pile, she could see why it would be a tedious, migraine-inducing task to go through with such a high-stress job as being High Chancellor and sorting out this paperwork on top of it.

"But then you might miss appointments and misplace important documents if you stuff them anywhere," she wisely pointed out. "Why haven't you gotten yourself an assistant before?" She was already beginning to think of a way to organize these parchments and letters.