by L. Danvers
The boys were avoiding eye contact with her and doing anything they could to pretend like they hadn’t heard the question.
Gregory focused on the wench as she strode across the room, smiling at and flirting with the patrons. Thomas was fiddling with a dagger, and Merek just sat there, looking at his folded hands which rested on the tabletop.
Their lack of an answer told her everything she needed to know, but she wanted to hear them say it. “Does everyone feel this way?”
Gregory’s expression hardened. “I think you already know the answer.”
The more the group of men across from them drank, the more unruly and disruptive they became. Their foreheads were sweaty and their cheeks bright red, and they were oblivious to how loud they were. At the encouragement of his comrades, the largest of the bunch stood on top of the table, unaware that in doing so, he had sent two plates crashing to the floor, which sent chicken bones flying across the tavern.
He stood there, waving his arms, leading the others in song while the table struggled to support his weight.
Down with the king, the evil, the cruel
Down with the king, and his cursed rule
Down with the king, King Edgar “the great”
Down with the king, and curse his fate
Down with the king, and curse his name
Down with the king, and bring him pain
Daphne should have been crying, but all she felt were pangs of guilt.
She should have been insulted that people spoke of her father that way. She should have been enraged. It was treason, after all, to speak of the king in that manner.
She understood where their anger came from, though.
His job was to look after and care for his people, and from what she’d seen, he wasn’t very good at it.
Gregory stood abruptly, his jaw tightened. “Come. Let’s get a room for you and Lillian. You don’t need to listen to this.”
Daphne knitted her eyebrows, perplexed that he was so concerned about how the drunken men’s words would affect her.
It was... kind, and unexpected.
Thomas and Merek were tired, too, so the five of them went to the counter and waited for the innkeeper to finish counting his coins.
The innkeeper’s eyebrows were bushy and white, so much so that Daphne found it impossible not to stare at him. It took everything she had to refrain from borrowing Thomas’s dagger and grooming them herself.
Gregory cleared his throat when it became apparent that the innkeeper hadn’t noticed them. “Do you have a spare room for the night?”
“You’re in luck,” the man said, tearing his attention away from his stack of money. “I have one more.”
Daphne looked to Gregory, Thomas and Merek. “But where will you sleep?”
Gregory’s eyes flashed. “Excuse me? We’re the ones paying. We’ll share the room.”
Lillian folded her arms and looked at the floor. She mumbled, “Technically she’s the one paying.”
Maybe the boys hadn’t heard her, or maybe they didn’t care.
They watched as the innkeeper tucked away his money. The man took a half-melted candlestick from the bar and waved for them to follow. He led them upstairs. Daphne held her breath with each step she took, fearing the rickety boards would crumble underneath her weight. One of them was so bowed she stepped over it rather than risk tripping. The man took them down a narrow hallway, the floor of which was covered with a carpet that had seen better days. It looked out of place in the dinky inn—too expensive of an item that didn’t fit with the utter lack of décor. She suspected it was covering loose boards so as not to frighten patrons.
He took them in a tiny room and set the candlestick holder on the nightstand. “I’m sorry, there’s only one bed.”
With that, he wished them a good night’s sleep and left.
The five of them exchanged awkward glances.
Lillian scrunched her nose. “What’s that smell?”
They looked around and realized that smell was them. They were sweaty and covered with dirt from their travels. The aromas of roasted chicken and ale downstairs had temporarily masked their stench, but here in this empty room, there was nothing to smell but each other.
Daphne folded her arms, overcome with a sense of self-consciousness. She imagined Phillip telling her how unprincesslike she was when they caught up with him.
If they ever caught up with him.
She and Lillian sat on the edge of the bed. Thomas shot them a dirty look, but Merek gave him a shove. “They are girls,” he said. “Let them have the bed. We can sleep on the floor.”
The boys sprawled out on the wooden boards, their heads resting on their hands as they stared up at the patched roof. Daphne was thankful it wasn’t raining. Whoever fixed it hadn’t done a good job. She could make out stars between the cracks.
Daphne and Lillian crawled under the sheets. The princess’s stomach was doing somersaults. She had never shared a room with anyone, let alone three boys. Even she and Phillip had separate chambers from the time they were born. She wasn’t sure why she felt so awkward, but she did. She pulled the covers up to her neck, and she thought she caught Gregory looking her way.
She panicked and turned to Lillian, who was already snoring.
Between the uncomfortableness both of the arrangement and their straw-stuffed bed, she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep.
Chapter Eight
Daphne dreamed of Phillip. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but it had to have been a dream. She saw him so clearly. She imagined her twin riding on the back of his favorite horse, Shadow, making his way across the Perdeus Ruins. The ruins were nestled under the accumulation of years of constant snowfall. She dreamed he passed by remains of castles and gilded statues. They were landmarks she had seen depicted in oil paintings back home. The city had been abandoned many moons ago.
Their mother had told them that Perdeus was once the greatest civilization the world had ever known. Much like what later happened in Vires when their great-grandfather seized power, the rulers of Perdeus conquered all the neighboring lands. For many eons, it was a prosperous civilization. The king and queen were loved by all. There was an abundance of food and wine. There were numerous advancements in artwork and theater. But even the mightiest of civilizations couldn’t escape a doomed fate.
Greed brewed from prosperity, and in time, that became apparent to the common people. They rebelled against the king and queen. The castle was stormed, villages went up in flames and good men and women on both sides died for the land they loved and believed in.
Their great-grandfather, who had the title of Lord Cedric at the time, got word of the turmoil in Perdeus. He pounced on the opportunity, and the legend went that he flew to the city on the back of his dragon. Daphne and Phillip assumed that part was embellished. As far as they knew, no one had seen a dragon before.
Nevertheless, the story went that their great-grandfather gave the people two days to flee, warning them that he would then burn the city. Many ran, but the ever-stubborn royals refused to abandon their castle. He fought the king of Perdeus and won. Lord Cedric took the king’s ruby-encrusted crown, hopped on the back of his dragon and gave the beast the word. It took flight and breathed amethyst fire throughout the city.
That was when the king’s allies, the giants, came for Lord Cedric. They were said to be as tall as trees, with arms as long as branches and legs as wide as trunks. How scared her great-grandfather must have been at the sight of them, but he wasn’t one to give in to fear. With the help of his dragon, Lord Cedric chased the giants all the way to the far reaches of Proelium. The story went that the dragon killed most of the giants with ease, but the last remaining giant managed to grab hold of the dragon’s tail and flung the creature against the mountainside.
It was a miracle that Lord Cedric survived that fall. He was wounded, of course, but he lived. The same giant that had killed his dragon rushed toward him, and Lord Cedric flung his sword wit
h such force that it lodged into the giant’s neck. The giant fell to the ground, and it was said that the world gave such a rumble that tremors could be felt all the way in Nemoria.
When the legendary battle was over, Lord Cedric tended to his beloved dragon. He stroked the purple scales of the beast’s head and sat there with it as it drifted into an eternal slumber. Their great-grandfather said his goodbyes. He retrieved the ruby-encrusted crown that had tumbled to the ground during his fall, not realizing at the time that one of the rubies had become dislodged. He journeyed all the way back to Vires, where he declared himself king of the entire realm. All of the lands from there to Proelium would from then on belong to Vires. He decreed that Perdeus was to remain in ruins, to serve as a reminder to kings and commoners alike.
Daphne dreamed of Phillip riding Shadow through the abandoned city, wondering what it must have looked like before their great-grandfather destroyed it. She imagined her brother finding protection from the ever-falling snow and starting a fire to keep warm. That might very well have been the first time the city had seen fire since being engulfed by the dragon’s breath. He watched the glowing embers until he drifted into a world of dreams.
Chapter Nine
Daphne was exhausted. She would have questioned whether she had slept at all were it not for the vague memory of dreaming of Phillip huddled over a fire. Her back ached more than it had before she fell asleep. She should have let the boys take the bed. She would have been more comfortable on the floor. Lillian slept just as poorly. When she awoke, she scrunched her face while she rubbed the back of her neck.
Thomas was sleeping face down, his head buried in his folded arms. Merek was sleeping, too. He was on his side, his scrawny arms and legs pulled in close. Daphne had never seen anyone so expressive in their sleep. He would smile, then purse his lips, then shake his head and mumble something to himself. She wondered what he was dreaming about.
And then there was Gregory.
She sighed when she saw him. For someone who could come across as so stern, he looked so peaceful there.
She found herself staring at his lips, and her cheeks suddenly felt warm upon realizing what she was doing.
She tried running her fingers through her hair, forgetting it was braided. She patted Lillian’s handiwork. She hadn’t looked in a mirror in days. She wished someone would have told her how many strands had escaped the pulled-back locks.
Lillian climbed out from under the covers and slid off of the end of the bed. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to keep from laughing at Merek’s silly expressions. She knelt beside him and gave him a gentle push. He stretched out his arms and yawned so loudly that it woke up Thomas, who was grumbling.
Gregory was still asleep, though, so Daphne hopped out of bed and went over to him. She felt bad about waking him up. He looked so relaxed.
He was the only one of the bunch whose hair wasn’t a wild mess. It was just short enough to have stayed in place.
She watched for a moment as his chest rose and fell, then, deciding they really did need to get going, she nudged his arm with the tip of her boot.
His eyes fluttered open for a moment. He groaned and turned his head away. “Gregory,” she whispered. “Gregory, wake up.”
He grunted and turned back to face her.
He blinked his sleepy eyes open a few times and, as if still in a dream state, curved his mouth into a smile.
There was something in the way he looked at her that made her heart skip.
She stiffened and said, “We should get going.”
THE FIVE OF THEM WANDERED through the cobblestone streets of Fundum, and as they did so, Daphne made a special point to pay attention to the people she passed. After all, she was second in line to the throne.
She felt like such a fraud.
Her trips to the villages on the outskirts of the castle to pass out bread and cheese hadn’t been enough. It wasn’t until she departed on this adventure that she understood how much her people were suffering.
She was embarrassed at how satisfied she had felt with herself when she brought the villagers food. She thought of herself as being so empathetic. How foolish she was. She enjoyed feasts and piles upon piles of food three times a day, much of which went to waste, while many starved. She thought she was so close to the people of Vires, when in truth she was far disconnected from them.
She understood that now.
Maybe if she could convince King Edgar to get to know the people of his kingdom and see for himself how they lived, he could find it in his heart to rule from a place of compassion rather than tradition and greed. To treat his people like human beings rather than his subjects.
They passed by a woman with bags under her eyes as dark as her slate dress. Her hands were busy hanging her laundry out to dry. Her hair was pulled into a single tight braid that accentuated her sunken cheeks. Daphne couldn’t help but notice how cracked her lips were. It looked like they were bleeding. A little boy tugged at the frayed hem of her dress. Tears streaked down his dirty face. “Mama, I’m hungry.”
“I know, my love,” his mother said. She knelt beside him, rested her forehead against his and took his tiny hands in hers. “We will eat later today. I promise.”
Daphne’s heart ached for them. She questioned whether they would indeed have food to eat later in the day. The two of them looked like they were wasting away. She worried they hadn’t had much of anything in weeks.
Daphne didn’t realize that she’d stopped to watch them until Lillian called back to her. “Come on. They’re going to leave us behind.”
Against her better judgment, she chased after Lillian.
She should have stopped to help the boy and his mother. She should have found food for them. She should have comforted them, assured them she would see to it that they were taken care of.
But she didn’t, and she would always have to carry that guilt.
She promised herself she wouldn’t forget them. She promised herself she’d tell Phillip about the needs of their people and make sure he saw to it that each and every person in the realm had plenty to eat. Maybe, in some small way, that would make up for her lapse in judgement. She hoped so, at least.
IT WAS MID-MORNING before they reached the fringes of Fundum. Daphne’s muscles screamed in pain. Between walking, carrying her heavy sword and helping fight off the atrocitas, every inch of her ached. Even her eyes hurt, the way the corners of them crinkled to shield her from the blazing sun. She reminded herself not to complain, though. She knew she’d yearn for the warmth of those rays by the time they crossed the Acerbus Sea and neared Proelium.
Meanwhile, Lillian was struggling.
Merek, being the kind soul he was, offered to carry her sword for her.
She didn’t hesitate to hand it over to him.
He looked at Daphne, too, but she shook her head. She didn’t need his help.
They passed stretches of farmland filled with cattle and hogs. Daphne enjoyed seeing the animals, but she could have done without their accompanying stench.
A small part of her missed being back at the castle, where everyone, for the most part, was clean. There, the people smelled of sweet oils. Now, oils would do little to mask the stench of sweat and dirt the group had accumulated during their travels.
Daphne and Lillian ran to catch up to the boys. They were far more accustomed to traveling on foot than the girls were. Gregory didn’t look tired, which made it all the more annoying. Thomas wore his usual scowl, though Daphne suspected part of the reason his face was twisting was because of his eyes burning from the bright sun. Merek, on the other hand, kept a goofy grin on his face, even though he was clearly walking a good bit slower than before now that he carried Lillian’s sword.
The five of them finally crossed a rocky hill. Daphne’s thighs burned from each uneven step, but what she saw when she reached the crest took her breath away. Before her stood an ancient woodland. It was nothing like the silver forest, which was barren and filled
with haunting sounds. No, these woods were inviting and filled with life. Magnificent trees overflowed with vibrant green leaves. They offered shade, and soon Daphne was no longer sweating. Songbirds sang and crickets hummed, and she forgot how much her legs hurt. She was so enchanted with the beauty surrounding her.
Thomas shook his head. “I can’t believe it.”
“What’s that?” Merek asked, his boots gushing in the moss.
“This whole time we’ve been camping out in that stupid silver forest when we could have been here all along?”
He was about to go on complaining, but he stopped himself.
They heard the babbling of water, and it sounded like it was coming from nearby.
The group walked some more, weaving among the sturdy tree trunks until they came upon a waterfall cascading over a vine-covered cliff. Butterflies flapped their colorful wings as they soared through the mist.
Daphne watched the water as it flowed in front of them, and she thought again of how awful she smelled. It was peculiar how her nose had adjusted to her stench.
How she longed to bathe.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had freshened up, and she couldn’t take it any longer. “Would you mind giving us some privacy?” she said to the boys. “I’d like to take a dip.”
Thomas’s eyebrow quirked up, and he gave Merek a glance. Before he could say anything, though, Gregory said he didn’t mind and instructed his friends to follow.
They took off in the direction in which the stream flowed, and Daphne waited to undress until they were out of sight.
It felt strange to disrobe out in the open. She prayed no one else would be passing through the woodland. She could only imagine the humiliation she’d feel if someone saw her. Especially if they learned who she was. King Edgar would die of embarrassment if it got back to him, but it was a risk she was willing to take.
Daphne and Lillian bunched up their clothes and tossed them to the wide base of the nearest tree on the opposite side of the stream. That way they wouldn’t have to wade through the water again and have to travel the rest of the day in soaked boots and pants.