by Emily Deady
Onric sat on the covered bench behind her desk, sprawling out into a more comfortable position. “Ian’s not back yet.”
“And he won’t be until next week.”
“It’s not fair.”
“Sometimes, I wonder that you are my second born and not my youngest.” His mother sighed in resignation, but Onric could hear the jest in her words.
“Are you calling me a child?” Onric made sure to sound particularly wounded. “Aden is sitting on the floor right behind you, trying to teach a pup how to stand like a human, and you are calling me the child. I’m hurt, Mother. Devastated.”
Queen Cara turned around at that and smiled at her sons and the dog in the room. Even though they were quite grown, Onric and his siblings often came to the family salon while their mother was working. It gave them a sense of normalcy, to be in a space away from the demands of the royal family. Queen Cara mostly tolerated it, as she was happiest when surrounded by her family, but she had also developed the ability to tune them out when she had work to do. At the moment, however, Onric was trying very hard to not be tuned out.
“But he is such a good pup, isn’t he?” Queen Cara was watching the dog’s antics and reached down to scratch its head. “Why don’t you go and check on the reports of citizens entering the castle, Onric?”
“I have. Twice today already. No one has come through the palace gates that is unrecognized, and the city gates have had no suspicious activity.”
“Good. You are doing your job well, then.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Queen Cara responded.
Onric did not sit up. There were only a few people who ever disturbed them in the salon, and they were the ones who were already considered family.
Steward Daniel opened the door. “Your Majesty, if I may speak to you for a moment regarding the ball? We have made the most incredible discovery.” He stepped into the room, followed by Ashlin.
Onric quickly sat up, swinging his feet to the floor as a smile spread over his face.
“Of course, Daniel. The ball is my first priority.” The queen had set down her quill and turned towards the door. She was giving her full attention to the steward, but she also studied Ashlin for a long moment.
Onric glanced between them. Ashlin’s eyes made a quick sweep of the room, and her face relaxed as soon as she saw him.
“First,” the steward said, responding to the queen, “this is—”
Onric stood up, cutting him off. “Mother, this is Ashlin.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her a step into the room. “The one I told you about? She’s the one who sewed up my sleeve when Ian and I got caught out in the storm.”
“Of course.” Queen Cara stood up and stepped towards them. “Thank you for sheltering my boys. Frederich and I were traveling back from Chendas during that storm, and it was quite frightful.”
Ashlin had dropped into a curtsy, but Onric refused to let go of her hand and gently pulled her back up.
Seeing the motion, his mother glanced over at him. Her face was neutral, but her eyes were full of questions. Onric returned her gaze, his eyes begging her to understand.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, her eyes softened and her queenly smile melted into a real one as she turned back towards the girl at his side. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ashlin,” she said.
Onric felt a lightness in his chest and squeezed Ashlin’s hand.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Ashlin responded. Her quiet voice filled with surprise and warmth.
Queen Cara turned back to the steward. “As you were saying, Daniel?”
Onric glanced at Ashlin, grinning. She returned his smile but shyly pulled her hand away from his.
“Ashlin has found a tapestry in the old eastern tower,” the steward explained, “that I believe encompasses the entire motif you desire for the ball.”
“A tapestry?” Aden cut in.
“Yes, Your Highness. I would have brought it here, but it is quite large. If you would follow me to the eastern tower?”
“Of course,” Queen Cara said, following the steward out of the doorway.
Aden jumped up, scooping his pup along with him. “I want to see it, too.” He paused in front of Onric, bowing lightly to Ashlin.
“This is Aden,” Onric said, introducing them.
“The brother who actually enjoyed art lessons?” Ashlin smiled up at them both.
Aden puffed out his chest, looking back at Onric and nodding his head. “Yes, I am that brother. And this,” he said, indicating the pup, “is Warrior.”
“Aww.” She scratched the happy pup behind his ears. “A noble name,” she complimented.
“For a noble dog,” Aden replied. “Let’s go see this tapestry.” He stepped past them, winking at Onric over Ashlin’s head.
Onric resisted the urge to kick his younger brother in the shin as he passed. He could berate him for his cheekiness later. At the moment, he felt as though the world had never been so bright.
“Your brother is a little better at naming animals than you are,” Ashlin whispered up at him.
He grinned down at her. He had the sudden desire to introduce her to his father and other siblings.
Chapter 14
Ashlin slipped inside the dressmaker’s shop, the small bell above the door announcing her arrival. It had only been two weeks since her last visit, but it had felt like so much longer.
Mistress Cedrice came from the back room, smiling her welcome. “Ashlin, my dear, I’ve missed you.”
“It is good to see you,” Ashlin replied as the door closed behind her, shutting out the sounds of the street. Her shoulders relaxed. She loved this place.
“How are you?” the older woman asked.
The kindness in those simple words flooded over Ashlin, and she blinked away the blurriness in her eyes. When was the last time someone had asked her that question? She herself had not even paused to consider how she felt. “Busy and tired,” she started, thinking on the changes in her life over the past few days. Then, her thoughts strayed to Onric, who was never far from her mind these days. “But hopeful, too, I think.”
“I heard you are working at the palace?”
Ashlin nodded, moving towards the side wall where bobbins of thread were stacked on a shelf.
“Has your stepsister been taking over more of your responsibilities at home then?” the older woman continued.
Ashlin picked up two bobbins of blue thread. “We are making it work.” She brought the thread to the back table where Mistress Cedrice counted the payment.
The older woman picked up the thread, noting the color. “I’m sorry about the blue silk. I know you had your eye on it.”
Ashlin nodded again, not trusting her voice. Her stepmother had given her a single copper coin to cover the purchase, and she held it out over the table.
Mistress Cedrice took it from her hand and set the bobbins back on the table. “My dear, come up for a spot of tea.”
Ashlin shook her head. “I have no time.”
“Just a sip, it will do you good.”
Ashlin bit her lip. She only had a few hours before she had to walk to the palace, and the kitchen floor at home had to be thoroughly scrubbed before she could start sewing the dress so as not to get a speck of dirt on the fabric. But she had been up before dawn, and the tea would no doubt help her feel more awake. “Alright, but just for a moment.”
“Good. Come, come.” Mistress Cedrice led her through the back room and up the wooden stairs to her small living quarters above the shop.
The kettle was full and hot, hanging over the hot coals of the fireplace. Ashlin grabbed the tongs before the older woman could get to them and lifted the heavy pot from the fire.
Mistress Cedrice set two round clay mugs on the table next to a small teapot and sprinkled a pinch of fresh leaves into it. Before Ashlin even poured the hot water over them, she could smell the comforting aroma of the familiar tea. Over years of use, the unglazed clay pot had soak
ed in the oil and flavors of hundreds of steeps, taking on a unique sheen and aroma all its own. Carefully, Ashlin poured hot water into the pot, and the pores of the clay opened up, filling the entire room with the warm, astringent scent. It was the most comforting smell Ashlin had ever experienced.
She returned the pot to the stove and sat across from the older woman at the wooden table.
“How are you really doing?” Mistress Cedrice questioned her again.
Ashlin avoided her gaze, afraid to face herself with honesty. “It has been a little difficult, but I’m doing fine, really. This will all be over soon enough, and things can go back to the way they were before.”
“Before what?” The seamstress lifted the pot and poured tea into the waiting cups. “Before you started working at the palace, or before your father . . .”
Ashlin shook her head, wrapping her hands around the small mug. It had no handle, and it fit perfectly between her palms. “This is temporary. Bad times are always followed by good times, right?” She attempted a smile to prove she truly was alright.
“Not if you bring the bad times upon yourself.” Mistress Cedrice spoke softly, her voice filled with concern.
Ashlin stood up, leaving her cup half full on the table. “I really must be going.”
“My dear, please come apprentice with me.”
Ashlin shook her head, her throat closing in on her.
“What do you have to lose?” The older woman had stood, reaching out a hand to touch Ashlin’s arm.
“My family,” Ashlin whispered in response.
Understanding finally dawned on the seamstress’s face.
Ashlin swallowed, her throat still thick with emotion. She refused to give up hope by letting the tears fall.
Mistress Cedrice squeezed her hand. “You have suffered more loss than a person of your years should ever have to endure. But this is not what your father would have wanted for you.”
“They are all I have left.”
“I know. And I won’t press you again, but please know that I’ll always keep the back corner clear for you should you ever want it.”
The sound of a bell came from the store below.
“Sit down and collect yourself before you leave. I’ll go see who that is.”
Ashlin sat back down for a moment, finishing the contents in her cup. Her mind wanted to replay the conversation she had just had. Her father would be heartbroken if he knew how much his family was struggling in his absence. He had been the most leisurely person she had ever known. Not that he was lazy—far from it. Rather, he had always been present in every moment. He could spend hours pondering the beauty of a wildflower or discussing a written masterpiece. Ashlin thought of the two books she could not bear to sell that she kept next to her bed in the small scullery maid’s room. She and her father had read them together. They were only halfway through the last one when he had planned to sail north to Allys. She had begged him to stay another week so they could finish it together before he left. It was her fondest memory and her deepest pain.
One week later, he left for the sea to set sail. It was in the middle of goldenreign, so the weather had been warm for weeks. Mere hours after his leaving the harbor, a Majis-powered storm had erupted through the skies, disturbing the sea below and smashing the ship against the coast. Over the past three seasons, the sea storms had grown more frenetic, as though the Majis were threatening the entire continent with their return.
But why had they stirred the sea that day? The Isle of Exile was many days away by sea. Were they trying to destroy the only people their magic could reach? Ashlin had always blamed herself for her father’s death, but perhaps she was not the only one to blame.
The small feelings of anger spiraling in her heart scared her. It was time to return to work, where her mind would be too preoccupied to dwell on these thoughts. She could sort out her feelings later.
She stepped down the stairs.
“Would you like a cup of tea while your sister tries on her dress?” Ashlin could hear Mistress Cedrice speaking in the front area of the store.
“No, thank you. I only stopped in to see her safely here,” a man’s voice responded.
Ashlin’s sad thoughts disappeared.
“I must head out to check on the city guard,” the familiar male voice continued. “I’ll return soon to walk home with you, Meena.”
Ashlin pushed open the wooden door that separated the back room from the storefront. Prince Onric was indeed standing in the dressmaker’s shop, pushing the front door open to step out onto the street. He stopped moving as soon as she entered the room, and a dazzling smile spread across his face.
“On second thought, a cup of tea sounds delightful.” He spoke to the seamstress, but his eyes were on Ashlin.
“Of course, Your Highness. Let me get that for you.” Mistress Cedrice turned towards the door, noticing Ashlin for the first time.
“I can take care of it while you work with your customer,” Ashlin offered.
“Thank you, child.”
Mistress Cedrice took the princess into the back room, and Ashlin quickly gathered the already prepped teapot and two cups from the upstairs kitchen, bringing them back to the table in the storefront.
Onric was holding a pair of scissors, cutting the air with them which created a brisk slicing sound.
“Oh! You should not toy with those,” Ashlin gasped. “Mistress Cedrice does not let anyone touch the scissors except for herself. They are one of her most prized possessions.”
Onric immediately set them down on the table, remorse filling his face.
Ashlin froze. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I’m sure this does not apply to you.” She dipped into a small curtsy, careful not to jostle the full teapot in her hands.
“Of course it applies to me,” Onric replied, stepping around the wooden table and reaching for the teapot. “I wouldn’t dare upset the dear seamstress lest she start sewing my clothes uncomfortably tight.”
Ashlin laughed, her embarrassment dissipating. She set the cups down on the wooden table.
“Why are you here?” she asked. “Does not the palace employ a seamstress?”
Onric filled the cups with tea and set the pot on the table. “We do. Ian suggested that we spend more coin with the city shop owners since everyone is struggling right now. My father thought it was a splendid idea, so here we are.”
“That is very thoughtful. Mistress Cedrice truly is the best dressmaker in town, and she often charges less than she should when the townsfolk cannot afford something.” Ashlin remembered the brown wool that the seamstress had given her for a pittance of vegetables, and her heart warmed.
“My mother is very excited about the tapestry. She is quite impressed.” Onric took a sip of tea. He scrunched his nose for a moment, and Ashlin wondered if the tea was too hot.
“I’m excited too,” she responded. “Steward Daniel has told me that my sole focus is restoring the tapestry between now and the ball.” She did not want to complain about scrubbing his floors, but she was looking forward to less strenuous work at the palace.
“So, will the restoration take place in the eastern tower, or are they moving the giant monstrosity somewhere else?” He took another sip of tea, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
“It will probably stay in the eastern tower. I do not want it to get damaged further by moving it before it is ready.”
He nodded casually. “Good to know.”
She watched his face, trying to ascertain why he was asking. But he was merely taking another sip of tea. He grimaced again.
Worried that something was wrong with it, she tasted her own tea. It tasted as it normally did. “Is something wrong with the tea, my Lord?”
“Please, just Onric.” His warm brown eyes pleaded with her over the rim of his cup. “And no, I’ve just never had tea like this. It tastes different.” He inhaled through his nose. “Smokier somehow.”
“Ohhhhh.” She laughed. “Us poor peasants c
annot afford the premium leaves that have been transported in airtight barrels. It’s too expensive. The cheaper tea leaves are merely packaged in sacks. When the merchants travel from Falqri, the smoke from their fires slowly flavors the tea in their wagons. You, my Lord,” she said, rolling her eyes a little, “have just never had poor tea.”
Onric’s cheeks had turned a shade deeper.
Ashlin could not keep the smile from her face. She enjoyed the fact that for once, he was the embarrassed one.
He sniffed at his cup again, as though trying to appreciate the flavor in a new way. “Or perhaps,” he said, looking back at her, “I just have exceptionally fine taste.”
His jesting was gone, replaced by a look of intense admiration. As heat flooded her cheeks, Ashlin had the feeling he was no longer talking about tea.
“I really should be going. I’m needed at home,” she whispered.
He bowed lightly to her. “I would love to see the progress on the tapestry.”
She nodded, stepping towards the door. “Of course, you know where to find me.”
He winked. “The eastern tower.”
His simple gesture broke the intensity of the moment between them, and she smirked back at him.
Chapter 15
Onric dashed up the tower steps, taking them two at a time, and burst through the wooden door. He was merely checking in to see how the restoration was coming, and to see if Ashlin had uncovered anything else about the Majis. The reason for his visit had nothing to do with the young woman who smiled in welcome as soon as he walked into the tower room. At least, that was what he told himself.
“Prince Onric,” she said.
“My lady,” he replied. If she was going to be formal, he was going to tease her about it.
She ignored his jab. “I was hoping to see you again today.”
As if he was not already grinning large enough. His mouth was sure to be stuck in this position for all time.
Her face had grown serious, though. “I had an idea,” she continued.
“Do tell?” He sat on a crate across from her. A row of crates stacked two high had been put in place to act as a makeshift table. The tapestry had been lifted onto it and was rolled open to reveal one of the panels. Ashlin stood over it now, tacking the first damaged panel out of sight by folding it behind one of the good panels so they did not have to remove it completely.