Forbidden letters, p.20
Forbidden Letters, page 20
part #0.50 of Men of the North Series
Snickering low, the captain joked, “The king said that since you’re so fond of piss, you can drink your own.”
“There was no piss in that beer.”
“No, we know that.”
I held my breath. “Then why are we still here?”
“You know why you’re here. You tried to poison the king.”
My head was exploding with panic and my eyes went to Frederick and my dad. They knew. This was bad!
“As I said, you’ll see your women one last time on New Year’s Eve since they will be there at your public execution.”
With an aggressive growl, Emmerson ran against the door and slammed his shoulder against it.
The captain stepped back and closed the latch in the door.
“I should have fucking broken Jeremiah’s neck when I had my chance.” I groaned out loud and let my thoughts go to Devina.
My plan of being at her house when she came back was nothing but an impossible dream now. I’d been so sure that we would succeed. Now I wished that I’d at least left a message for her to find when she came back. The thought that Devina would leave for good thinking that I was too mad at her to write her back made me sick with sorrow.
My only consolation was that she wasn’t here in the palace to see me being executed and that I’d left a small mark in this world by creating a book with Devina that people in the Motherlands would read.
I might be dead soon, but at least the story of Mark and Deidra would live on.
CHAPTER 31
Best Seller
Devina
Sitting on the windowsill of my apartment, I leaned my head against the window frame and looked out at the people walking the streets below me.
Those people had places to be, jobs to do, and friends and family to visit. A pair of women were walking close with their arms linked by the elbow. They were laughing and talking like they had no care in the world. I felt a pang of envy.
I used to be like them but now I felt detached and lost.
My book had caused a storm. The media hated it, but the more they talked about it, the more copies were picked up by readers around the world.
The critics used harsh words like “this was a waste of time,” “worst book ever published,” and several accused me of having a disturbing imagination.
I’d done interviews but even though the reporters had been polite and nice to me in person, their articles had been critical of my choice of topic.
Ebony had been right: Nmen were considered demonic monsters and my book had become a guilty pleasure no one would admit to reading.
When my phone rang, I considered ignoring it, but being a Motlander, I was too polite for my own good and so I answered it. “May peace surround you.”
“Devina, I have bad news.” It was Ebony and her voice sounded brittle, like she’d been crying.
“What happened?”
“Did they call you yet?”
“Who?”
She sighed. “Oh, sweetie, I don’t know how to tell you this, but we’ve been ordered to unpublish Forbidden Letters from the North.”
“Why?”
“Because according to the Council, it’s a dangerous book that preys on the naïve and instills dangerous fantasies in the minds of fragile people.”
I closed my eyes but didn’t say anything.
“Devina, are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m still here.
“It’s a great book, sweetie. It practically sells itself, but the Council is concerned and want it shut down.”
“What exactly are they concerned about? It’s just a book.”
“I asked them the same question and it turns out that some readers have been going to the border searching for bottles and attempting to throw over bottles themselves. The council has had to increase the border patrol and put up more cameras and signs to remind everyone that there are mines. Yesterday a woman took it a step further and instead of throwing over a bottle, she got caught while trying to climb the wall. Unfortunately, she fell down and broke both her legs.”
“Oh no!”
“Yeah, and according to the Council we’re to blame for putting dangerous ideas into these people’s minds.”
“They told you that?”
Ebony sighed again. “They suggested that I should take some time off to reflect upon my part in all of this.” Her voice broke again. “I don’t have time to be away from my business and I don’t want to be by some lake contemplating my part in the universe. I want to be where my friends are and have fun publishing books.”
“I understand.”
“They already dismissed the librarian who according to them made the mistake of approving the book and now they’re going to contact you too.”
I felt all blood sucking out of my face. “They said that?”
“Yeah.”
“Because they think I’m crazy?”
“They didn’t use the word crazy, but they worry that you’re delusional and need help.”
Turning my head, I looked to my entrance door. “How long do I have?”
“Not long.”
“Ebony…”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for letting me know.”
She sniffled. “You’re probably going to be in reflection for months, so as your publisher I urge you to write a book while you’re there. You’ll have all the time in the world.”
“If I write more about Deidra and Mark, they’ll never let me out.”
“No, don’t do that. Maybe you could write a mystery novel under a new pen name or something.”
I answered on the exhalation, “Yes, maybe.”
“I’ll contact you when things settle down.”
“That’s fine.”
“Again, I’m sorry, Devina.”
“I’m sorry too.”
When I hung up, I sat for a second watching the people down on the street, wondering if any of them had read my book and whether they’d loved or hated it.
What am I going to do?
I had felt lost for a long time, but now I was falling into a dark pit of hopeless despair. In desperation, I reached out for a lifeline and called up Tina.
“Hey, love, Amber and I were just talking about you. Are you okay?”
In a loud and clear voice, I heard Amber call out to me in the background, “They just talked about your book on the News.”
“Ebony called me. They’re unpublishing my book.” It flew out of me.
“I’m so sorry about that,” Tina began before Amber interrupted: “Told you romance was a risk.”
“Someone got injured climbing the wall to the Northlands, and they’re blaming me for it.”
“Yes, we saw on the News. It’s horrible.” Tina’s tone was empathetic.
“Can you believe that a woman broke both her legs?”
Amber gave a small outburst. “It was because of your book.”
The blaming in her voice made me defensive. “I never imagined my book would make people try and get to the Northlands. That was never my intention.”
Amber wasn’t helping. “See, this is why it’s so important that we’re responsible as authors. Our words inspire people to do either good or bad. That’s why we need censorship.”
“What did they say about me on the News?” My question was for Tina, but again, Amber answered and my irritation with her grew with every syllable that came out of her mouth.
“They used your book as an example to explain the Council’s latest bill that expands the ban on emotionally charged entertainment.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know that horror is banned, but now there will be a complete ban on all entertainment that evokes dangerous emotions such as terror, anger, or lust.”
“A ban. No, they can’t. Books are sacred.”
“Well, would you rather have people break their legs or, worse, kill themselves because they believe in some far-fetched fantasy?”
Amber might as well have punched me physically. I gasped out loud and blinked my eyes. My throat was feeling like a cactus was stuck down there and speaking would hurt.
“Amber, that was harsh,” Tina whispered but I said nothing. I couldn’t!
My lifeline had failed and there was no one left to pull me out of the dark pit I was falling into. My nose tickled from the sobbing that wanted out, and once again, I felt grief hit me like a panic attack.
I couldn’t see Tyton and tell him how awful I felt about a woman’s getting hurt because of my book.
No phone line could ever reach my mom and let her tell me that things would be all right. And there was no going back to the house for one of Nana’s wonderful healing sessions.
If only I could curl up with one of my sisters and share my worries for a while or get a bear hug from my dad. I suppressed the sob in my chest, closed my eyes, and remembered how he would always kiss me on the top of my hair and call me Miss Freckle.
They were all gone!
Justin would never prank me again and we would never celebrate another birthday in our family.
I didn’t even have Nellie anymore.
“Devina, are you there? Is there a bad connection?” Tina sounded like she’d said my name several times, but my body weighed a thousand kilos and I had no strength to answer her.
Ending the call, I let my chin fall and gave in to the despair I felt. If I died this very minute, no one would miss me.
Two hours later, there was a knock on my door.
I had expected it and had calmed down enough to open the door with a polite smile that never reached my eyes.
Two women stood outside and introduced themselves as Leonie and Marcy, asking if they could come in.
Opening my door all the way, I gestured for them to go ahead.
“We’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while about your book.” Leonie angled her head and gave me a sugar-sweet smile. “As you might have heard, it has had an unfortunate effect on many of your readers who now seem to think that Nmen are kind and wonderful people. With our history of their kidnapping and enslaving our women to breed for them, you can see why that’s unfortunate, can’t you?”
“That was more than a hundred years ago.”
“Still, by painting a picture of them as heroic and evolved men, you’ve inspired many women to try and go there. Several have been hurt in the process but at least so far, we’ve managed to save all of them from actually crossing the border.”
I didn’t speak.
Leonie folded her hands in front of her and sat up straight. “As of today, the Council has requested that your book be banned.”
“Yes, I’ve heard.”
“Would you mind telling us what inspired you to write the book in the first place? You used to live close to the border, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever had any contact with someone from the other side of the wall?”
“Do you mean if I exchanged letters myself?”
“Yes.”
“What would it change if I did? You’ve already decided that you’re banning my book.”
They looked a bit surprised by my confrontational question.
“We’re just trying to understand more about the situation. Can you confirm that you went to your doctor three days ago?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve obtained your medical records and it shows that you’re four months pregnant, yet you’ve had no visits to an insemination clinic. Can you explain how that’s possible?”
My heart was beating fast. “I was impregnated by a man, of course.”
Both women shifted on the sofa and exchanged a glance. “Can you direct us to him?”
“No.”
“And why is that?”
Because it’s none of your business. It was right there on my tongue, but I just shook my head.
“Can you give us his name at least?”
“Look, I had a short encounter with a man and it led to my pregnancy. I didn’t see him after that and I don’t want you to contact him.”
Marcy cleared her throat. “Devina, we understand that you’ve gone through a difficult time with the loss of your family. It’s easy to see how the book was created from the longing to be close to another person. Grief makes people do irrational things, but we feel that you would be better off taking some time to reflect and heal in a tranquil setting.”
“How long?”
“As long as you need.”
I looked away. “No thank you.”
“You look like you’ve been crying. We’re not here to punish you but to help you feel better.”
My mind was numb except for one persistent thought that I clung to. I didn’t want to accept censorship and laws banning books. I didn’t want to be okay with the Council taking away our freedom of speech. I couldn’t stand the thought of going to a place that served the Council and submit myself to constant reflection on how I had done something wrong when I hadn’t!
Readers loved my book for a reason. It made them feel and dream of being loved themselves.
Marcy, a woman with a short dark bob, cleared her throat again. “Would you like to come with us now, or do you need a bit of time to make arrangements?”
My body stiffened as I understood that I wasn’t being given a choice. One way or another, they wanted me in a place of reflection.
“We could give you a few days, if you need it.”
I met Leonie’s eyes. “I’m closing down my family’s house in four days. I can go after that.”
“Four days, that would be December 30th?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Here’s a list of the different facilities that you can chose from. Just let us know which one suits you the best and we’ll make the arrangements.”
Getting up from my chair, I bowed my head. “Thank you.”
They got up too and by the door, they offered me their hands in a formal goodbye.
Leonie squeezed my hands and looked deep into my eyes. “Sometimes we make unfortunate choices and need help getting back on track. That’s why we’re here.”
As soon as they were gone, I pressed my back against the door. My mind was racing to find a way out of the mess I was in.
Only one solution came to mind.
CHAPTER 32
The Mind of an Author
Devina
I had packed my few belongings and was closing the door to my apartment when Tina showed up out of breath and with a bag in her hand.
“Devina, where are you going?”
“Back to my family’s house.”
“I figured you might.” She fell into step with me as I walked down the hallway to the staircase. “You’re mad at Amber and me. I get it. When you hung up, I felt awful and then when you wouldn’t pick up your phone… I was afraid that you’d never speak to me again.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
Tina followed me outside the building to the self-driving community car that I’d ordered. When I got in, she was quick to get in with me.
“You want me to drop you off on the way?” It was the polite thing to ask even though I felt a little annoyed since Tina lived in the opposite direction.
“No, I’m coming with you.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.
I scrunched up my face. “You can’t come with me.”
“You’re going to do something wild. I know you.”
I sighed. “You think that because I wrote an outrageous book, I only do wild things?”
“Tell me the truth.” Her eyes fell to my belly. “Mark is real, isn’t he?”
I’d told my friends that I had an experimental encounter with a man, but no one had questioned whether he was from the Motherlands.
My hesitation made Tina widen her eyes. “I knew it!”
“No, it’s…”
She cut me off. “I couldn’t tell you while Amber was there, but I read your book in one night. It was amazing. You made me feel like I was right there. Mark was so different, and I want to know how you came up with someone as fascinating as him. You have to tell me everything.”
I turned my head and looked out the window as the community car drove down the street. “There’s nothing to tell, Tina. I’m an author like you and we make up stuff.”
She leaned back in her seat and gave me a scrutinizing look, but I didn’t budge.
Then she leaned against me and whispered into my ear. “You’re afraid our conversation is being recorded, aren’t you? It’s okay. You can tell me later.”
My mind was reeling. I could use a friend, but would Tina try and stop me from executing my plan?
“It’s a four-hour drive to the house. How about I take you home?”
“No thanks. If only we had one of the drones you described in your books… I’ll bet the journey would be much shorter then.”
I ignored her complaint. “You wouldn’t like it at the house. I’ve packed up everything and I’m only going back to hand over keys and say one last goodbye.”
“And then where will you go?”
“I’ve been asked to spend some time in a place of reflection.”
Tina took my hand. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. You’ve suffered a lot with the loss of your family. It would be a place for you to find peace again.”
“Maybe, but…” I couldn’t tell her that what I feared about going to a place of reflection was to be subjected to lectures about how disturbed my book was. My memories of my time with Tyton were precious and beautiful. I couldn’t bear to let anyone poison them by planting doubt in my mind.
Tina was still stroking my hand. “I took a class on grief, you know.”
“You did?”
“Yes. That’s why I’ve never tried to cheer you up. Haven’t you noticed?”
I moved in my seat. “What’s wrong with cheering people up?”
“It doesn’t help. People giving you advice on how to get over your grief by focusing on the positives are just making it worse. I’ve learned that the best thing we can do when someone is grieving is to acknowledge the pain they’re in and walk next to them as they go through their darkness. It’s not our job to take away their grief, and we couldn’t if we tried.”
