The Doll's House Chapter 3.

Chapter Three .

 

The Clerks’ Office.

 

Sophrayni left the cottage at dawn. Her boots were damp with forest dew as she rode toward the royal palace.

Magalan’s diary echoed in her thoughts: “The doll’s house is there. The spell is set.”

When she arrived, she handed her horse, Shade, to a groom. She didn’t go to the throne room. Instead, she walked straight into the clerks’ office.

This was where the kingdom’s records were kept, who built what, where, and why.

The senior clerk, a thin man named Thallian, met her with a nervous bow. He smelled faintly of ink.

“How can we help the Witch of the Dark Forest today?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“I need to know something about a doll’s house,” Sophrayni said.

“A doll’s house?” Thallian repeated, adjusting his spectacles.

“Not a toy,” she said. “This one was something more.”

Thallian thought for a moment. “It might be one of the models.”

“Models?” Sophrayni asked.

He led her to a shelf of green leather books.

“John Athelwynd,” he explained. “The king’s architect. He made miniature versions of each Kingsman’s house. Perfect copies, stone by stone, room by room.”

“Why?” Sophrayni asked.

“To help them imagine their homes. And to remind them of the king’s order. Each house was a symbol of law and leadership. The models were kept in the homes, on desks, mantels, sometimes in display cabinets.”

Thallian opened a ledger and pointed to a list.“Here. Every district. Every Kingsman. Every house. And every model delivered.”

Sophrayni scanned the names. One stood out: Bilton.

She remembered Magalan’s diary: “Sent the people of Bilton to the king.”

Her breath caught. “Thallian, I need to know what happened in Bilton when King Rolan ruled.”

He nodded. “I’ll find the records. That was before my time, of course.”

He led her down a dusty corridor lined with bookcases, muttering to himself as he searched the shelves.

At las,t he said, “Ah, here it is.” He pulled down a bundle of papers and spread them out on a nearby desk, squinting at the writing.

“Yes, I remember reading about this,” he said. “Would you like a summary? It’ll save you reading all these pages.”

“Please,” said Sophrayni.

Thallian coughed, sniffed, and began. “This happened when Magalan was causing trouble. She wanted revenge on the royal family. She raised an army of outlaws and wraiths and attacked the kingdom. She forced the people of Bilton to march to the royal palace.”

He ran his finger down the page. “Bilton wasn’t the only town. There were others, Darrowmere, Hestlewick, Wilford, Siddly, and Cruxton. All emptied. All sent here.”

He sighed. “The records aren’t great. The clerks back then were busy helping the people Magalan sent. They needed food, water, shelter. Not everything was written down properly.”

He shook his head. “Still, they could’ve done better.”

“Go on,” Sophrayni said.

“Well, the wraiths vanished. The outlaws weren’t good fighters, and King Rolan’s army defeated them. Magalan disappeared. I think she died. I read somewhere that Calizone told the king that.”

He frowned. “I can find that file if you want.”

“Magalan definitely died,” Sophrayni said. “No need to find it. What happened to the people of Bilton?”

“They returned soon after Magalan’s death,” Thallian said.

Sophrayni nodded slowly. “And the Kingsman’s family?”

Thallian hesitated. “This is where the records get messy. There’s no mention of the Kingsman from Bilton. I’m sorry.”

“What about the Kingsmen from the other towns?”

Thallian shook his head. “Sorry.”

Sophrayni paced the corridor, thinking hard.

She turned back to Thallian, who watched her with concern.

“I need to know if anything happened to those Kingsmen and their families.”

Magalan’s diary whispered in her mind: “One placed a doll in every room.”

“One family is missing,” she said. “But which?”

Thallian looked down. “Cruxton, maybe. That one…” He paused. “There’s a note. ‘Site declared uninhabitable. Well poisoned. Bodies unrecovered. Soil spread with salt.’”

Sophrayni’s breath caught. “She killed them, and the land?”

Thallian nodded grimly. “Some. Not all. She made the place unusable. The king ordered it sealed. No one’s been there since.”

Sophrayni felt the weight of Magalan’s cruelty pressing in. This wasn’t just about spells. It was about memory, making sure no one forgot her anger.

“And the doll’s house?” she asked.

“That wouldn’t be listed,” Thallian said. “We don’t record what’s inside Kingsmen’s homes.”

He hesitated. “I could check if a new Kingsman was sent to those towns later. But replacements happen often, when someone dies or retires.”

“Thank you, but no,” Sophrayni said with a smile. “You’ve got enough work already. I think I’ll go and look at those towns myself.”