“Are you sure?” Nessa asked, unable to help the excitement creeping into her voice. “I know about not being comfortable with unwanted company and would hate to bother you.”
“I am sure. I wish to help you.”
“Oh, thank the gods. Trains are new to us, and, while I am happy to charge in and try new things, this worries even me,” Elise said with a chuckle.
“It is decided, then. We travel together,” Anja said, pointing to them with her coffee cup.
Nessa raised her own cup. “I’ll toast to that.”
Elise lifted her glass of almond milk, realised it was empty and stole Nessa’s to toast with. Flooded with relief at not having to journey alone, Nessa didn’t even mention the milk theft. They would be safer now that they had a guide and a plan.
A thought, long buried, surfaced. As long as this country isn’t filled with the Queen’s spies.
Swiftly, Nessa’s stomach soured. And she knew it had nothing to do with the coffee.
Chapter 5
Dinner and Decisions
Queen Marianna Hargraves stifled a yawn. The wedding ceremony was finally over. Macray had married Kelene, the skinny former lady-in-waiting who had happily taken Elise’s place as future princess.
Now they were all seated in the dining hall of Silver Hollow Castle. Macray was making a toast to his new bride, thanking all the gods individually and mentioning the glory of the Queen and the royal family at every possible juncture.
Marianna marvelled at her brother’s acting skills. It was impossible to tell that he was miserable because his life of bedding every commoner within reach was over. After all, Nobles lived in mixed-sex relationships, and cheating brought dishonour.
That was one reason she would not marry. The other was that she would never share her power.
Her Queen’s aide, Adaire, was as close to having a partner as Marianna would ever get. She considered her decision to ask Adaire to stay in Highmere and keep an eye on court, despite almost all of the scrounging Noble courtiers travelling down to Silver Hollow Castle for the wedding. Perhaps she should have invited one of Adaire’s cousins? After all, the Aldershires were the second oldest and most distinguished Noble bloodline after the Hargraves.
Oh well, too late to reconsider now. Besides, what do I care about who people think I should have invited? I am the Queen, my opinion is law.
Macray finished his speech and bowed to the beaming Kelene. The two hundred or so guests all toasted with their glasses of sunberry essence. Marianna swallowed all of hers down and signalled to a servant for a refill. When she came over with the decanter, the Queen noted that the wench was quite fetching.
Has Macray only employed pretty commoners to work for him? Of course he has. Thinking with his trouser snake as always.
The girl bowed and stepped away with the decanter. Marianna gave her a charitable smile before unashamedly staring at the young woman’s cleavage. Tempting. But no. She preferred lovers with Noble blood. You never knew if a commoner shared your bed because they wanted to or because they felt like they had to. Marianna expected to be desired by her lovers.
Her thoughts went unbidden to Elise Falk. Where was the pretty fire-starter now? The Royal Guards had lost track of her after that fateful night at the White Raven, but there had been a recent sighting. The new information did not come from the tight-lipped Cai or the rebellious Fyhre, who, after being released, seemed to have vanished into thin air. Instead, it came from a fisherman stumbling from a tavern to the docks to sleep the drink off in his boat. He had seen two women matching the description of Elise and Nessa Clay on the night of their departure, in the company of a coquettish young man dressed head to toe in cobalt blue.
Marianna scoffed under her breath.
Not a colour in which one can stay inconspicuous.
The young man had been located, apparently being somewhat infamous in Nightport, and was now down in the Silver Hollow dungeons, below their feet, being asked questions. Nicely. However, as Marianna’s frustration grew, she considered throwing her past caution to the wind and asking with the aid of fists.
If Elise and the farm wench had been going to the docks, that only meant one thing. They had, as suspected, boarded a ship and left. However, one of the first things the Royal Guards had done after the disappearance was check the rosters for the ships leaving Nightport. There was no Falk or Clay on any of them. Marianna had even double-checked the passenger lists for the ships to Obeha herself. It was the only other continent that Elise was familiar with and had a lovely, warm climate even in winter. It was also vast enough for the runaways to easily hide. It would be the natural choice for Elise.
Still, there had been no names that matched. Not that this meant anything; all the rosters had a few occasions of two women travelling together. Elisandrine and her farmer could have taken any names and safely sailed away.
Unless that peacock in the dungeon speaks, I have to decide if I command my Arclidian spies on other continents to seek information on passengers arriving around the time of the travel to the continent in question. Around seven weeks to Western Isles. Six to Storsund. Ten to eleven weeks to Obeha. How long ago was night in the White Raven now… around two months ago?
Marianna winced. So much time had been lost during the planning of the wedding and while her guards searched Arclid for the two escapees. She ignored the cheers and toasts around her and consider her second option.
OR, do I contact the authorities on those continents and ask them to help me root out a traitor to the crown of Arclid? That would be more effective, but it would lead to more questions. Especially from the blasted, nosey Joiners Square.
The need for secrecy infuriated her. It would have been so much simpler if she could command every citizen of the orb to look for Elise. Nevertheless, she had to keep herself away from humiliation and from the Arclidians’ disgusting habit of rebelling when they felt their fellow commoners were being mistreated.
That settled it, it would be more furtive to stick to her own spies. They were all in place, awaiting orders. As soon as she was back in Highmere, she would have Adaire send the orders on the smaller steamers, which were built for speed and not comfort. These ships carried letters and missives as their cargo, not passengers, and therefore shaved a week or two off the journey. Marianna sipped her drink.
Where is that tinderbox maker of mine? I want her here. And then I want to see the light die in those peculiar, pretty eyes as I follow through with my plan.
“Your Majesty?”
Marianna was shaken out of her reverie.
“Are you all right, my Queen?”
It was the fop next to her. What was his name? He was a younger son of one of the Highland Nobles. Winthrop? Winterson? Ah, what did it matter?
She sniffed. “I am very well, thank you. Pondering matters of state. Have all the dessert courses been brought in?”
“I believe so, your Majesty. I heard them announce cream cakes, custard-filled cherry buns, honeyed winterberry tarts, and gooseberry pies with sugar pumpkin sauce. I am not certain what the large things on silver platters are.”
Marianna thought back to the wasted weeks of wedding plans. “They are large Saint Maria cakes with ginger wafers and candied Fletcher-plums as decoration. Kelene’s choice. Clearly an incorrect one.”
“Oh. Ah. Yes, of course, my Queen. They seem…” He seemed to be grappling. “…not sweet enough?”
She gave a curt nod. “Also, complicated, and foreign. This is the main dish of the dessert course at an Arclidian royal wedding. It should be a thoroughly Arclidian dish.”
He nodded rapidly and mechanically, like a clockwork doll wound too tightly, in his relief at having said the right thing.
Exceedingly dull. No one ever surprised her. Not anymore.
Those spies better work fast and find me Elisandrine Falk. Before I die of boredom and frustration.
Everyone was raising their glasses in another toast. They would all be drunk out of their
skulls before the desserts were devoured. Marianna lifted her glass. She intended to be the drunkest person there and then have an early night. Gods curse them all and their carefree cavorting!
Chapter 6
Storsund’s Trains, Elise’s Notes, and Nessa’s Fear
Excitement roiled Elise’s stomach, making her regret that breaded eel. The snow crunched under her boots as they walked towards the railway station. Soon she would see trains and after that… she would actually be on one. Imagining anything moving that fast and over such great distances made her dizzy.
Are we there yet? How far away can this station be?
Nessa and Anja were ahead of her, discussing train seats. It amused Elise that they both walked so similarly, straight-backed and with hands in their pockets.
“I have a minor class ticket. That is the cheapest. Those train carriages are crowded and with few seats, yes? I think I will add some coin to get a better journey. You should do the same. First time on a train should be a pleasure, not a chore,” Anja said.
Nessa nodded. “Whatever you think best. Am I right in thinking there are seats by the window?”
“Yes. But if we all wish to sit next to each other, we can’t all sit by the window. We’ll see what spaces are free when we buy tickets.”
Elise looked around. The crowds had changed. It was no longer people busying about their morning errands or on their way to work. There were ladies in the most elegant outerwear ambling about and men pushing prams with babies. It was so civilised and composed, it reminded her of Highmere. Only the freezing cold, which seemed to bite her cheeks and ice the breath in her nostrils, showed her she was far from home.
Good, sunny Highmere has the Queen in it. She is like a cat lapping up every ray of sunshine but, at the very idea of a place as cold as this, stays in her warm bed of silks and satin.
Elise noted and then buried a vein of shame-filled arousal running through her hate for that woman. The Queen was her hunter, thinking her a pet to tame or a trophy to claim. Elise clenched her jaw. She would run for a lifetime if she needed to, she was never going back to the Queen.
Besides, all arousal for others was inconsequential. Elise was no longer someone who bedded people at the drop of a hat. She shared only Nessa’s bed. That was all she needed.
The thought warmed and refocused her. “Anja, is it far to the train station now?”
Anja turned to look back at her. “No. We will be there soon.”
Elise smiled. “Splendid.”
“Where do we buy the tickets?” Nessa asked.
Elise didn’t hear the reply. She was busy wondering how it would feel to be on the train as it whooshed along the track. Far, far away from the Queen.
When she next looked up, she saw a building made of sandstone, like the rest of the town, but this one stood much taller. It commanded attention. There were gilded birds of prey on the tips of the tall roof and a large sign painted right on the sandstone in burnt orange.
She had to get her notebook out and write this down. “Wait a moment,” she said to her companions and began taking notes.
She heard Anja whisper, “What is she doing?”
“She makes notes on architecture,” Nessa answered in equally hushed tones.
Out of the corner of her eye, Elise noted Anja inspecting her.
“Does she do that a lot? Just stop in the middle of everything to write things down?”
“Only when we see some new architecture or design,” Nessa replied.
Elise wrapped up her notes quicker than she would have liked to. Discomfort niggled her whenever people talked about her as if she couldn’t hear them.
“My apologies for the delay. Shall we go in?” Elise said with forced energy.
“Yes. You will find this building disappointing inside. It does not match the pretty outside. But Skarhult station, that is… how do you say… grandiose.”
Elise put her notebook back into her carpet bag. “I look forward to seeing it.”
“Me too,” Nessa said, placing an arm around Elise’s waist.
Anja turned and strode towards the imposing doors. They hurried after her. It mattered little if the station’s interior was pretty or not. Elise only wanted to behold a train.
As they walked through the doors, a wall of sound hit them. Inside the large building were sights, sounds, and smells in a bewildering but exciting mass. It was an invigorating tonic to Elise.
“Awful, isn’t it?” Anja muttered.
“It’s… very crowded. But exciting to those of us who are new to it,” Nessa replied.
Elise ignored Anja's disdain and Nessa’s diplomacy. “It is an absolute wonder! Look at all the paintings on the walls, as beautiful as all the finely dressed people!”
Anja let out something between a hum and a scoff and walked them towards an archway to their left.
They ventured through the arch and into a canopy of glass and steel. It must have been obscured by the high-tipped ceiling they had seen from the front. There were several sets of train tracks with walking platforms between them. And on about half of them – vast, colourful beasts of metal that stopped the breath in Elise’s chest.
Beside every train stood a person in uniform with a sign that had place names and times. Anja was walking them towards the one which read Skarhult. An emerald green train stood there waiting. The imposing contraption huffed and puffed loudly, as if it were in a foul mood. Smoke billowed out of its chimney.
Is chimney the right word? How marvellous to find something so new that my language does not have words for it!
Anja stopped and grunted. “Ah, I forgot. You need tickets, and I need to pay extra to change mine from a minor class ticket to a major one. We need to go back inside.”
“All right. Lead the way. Thank you for upgrading your ticket, by the way. We can pay the difference,” Nessa offered.
Anja shook her head curtly as she walked. “No need. I have coin enough. I inherited a modest amount from my uncle. That was when I decided to stop working at the school and begin writing.”
Elise was loath to leave the trains, and judging by Nessa’s constant glances back to them, so was she. But like dutiful children, they followed Anja back inside. She pushed through the crowd to what looked like a small window at the far wall.
Anja strode up to it and said something to the man inside, handing over a small piece of white card. He replied in clipped words that rung out in the same complicated melody. Then he stamped her card and took some coins from her.
Anja turned back to them. “You’re all right with me ordering two major class tickets for you, yes?”
“Yes, please,” Nessa replied.
Her voice sounded small. Elise forced her focus out of her own excitement and into her beloved’s discomfort at the situation. She took Nessa’s hand and whispered, “All is well. We have a guide now, and everyone has seemed safe and trustworthy so far. Well, besides the thief. Other than him, people here seem more civilized than back in Nightport.”
Nessa whispered back, “Yes, but at least I knew the language there. And I could always walk back to Ground Hollow.”
Elise had no reply to that. She merely squeezed the calloused but gentle hand that lay limp in her own. “I promise to let no harm come to you. We are going to have a wonderful adventure.”
Nessa nodded hastily. Elise doubted the truth behind her agreement.
While they had been talking, Anja had apparently purchased their tickets.
“That will be six coppers each,” she said to them.
“Oh. Th-that is a lot,” Nessa said, paling even further.
“Yes. Major tickets are costly. Minor class is only two coppers, but as I say, have very bad conditions.”
“We shall gladly pay the major class price. At least for this, our first trip,” Elise said.
She reached into the satchel on Nessa’s shoulder and took out their coin purse. She counted out twelve coppers and handed them to Anja. Looking around to see that
no thieves had seen where the coin purse was, she returned it to the satchel.
Anja gave the man in the window the coin and got two pieces of white card in return. The text on them was the same burnt orange as on the sign outside of the building. Elise wondered if others would have noticed that or if it was merely her being her father’s daughter.
They took their tickets and headed back to the tracks. As they walked, Anja said, “By the way, almost everyone in the south speaks some Arclidian. You could easily have gotten your tickets in your language, yes? I merely thought it would be faster in Sundish as my Arclidian is, as I said, rusty.”
“It’s absolutely fine. Actually, I think it’s improving,” Nessa said with an encouraging smile.
Elise had to agree with that. Anja's sentences were getting longer, her vocabulary increasing, and not every sentence ended with “yes?” Still, the charming accent remained.
They were back out by the trains again. The air smelled of smoke. Not the smoke of Nightport, which had been from fireplaces and factories, but a foreign smell, not unpleasant, but cleaner and mechanical.
“Ready to board?” Anja said.
“Yes,” Elise said, a little too eager.
Anja smiled at her. A rare thing with this woman, wasn’t it?
They walked to the man with the Skarhult sign. Anja showed him her ticket, and Nessa and Elise followed suit. He nodded to them all and indicated the first door of the long train.
They got on, and at once, Elise marvelled at the interior of this metal contraption. The walls were the same emerald green as the outside. There were windows with red velvet curtains and seats covered in plush cushioning of the same colour. The seats were two and two with little tables between them. On the tables were oil lamps and ornate tinderboxes to light them with, still allowing space for the train rider to put their items down.
Tinderbox Under Winter Stars Page 4