by Raven Oak
“To the Shadian border to see if she could get some answers about the Tribor and the Shadian royal family.”
“Then our lovely prince passed by her on the way out of the city. I assume she’s to report her findings on a regular basis?” When King Leon nodded, she continued, “Good. It’s possible she’s still alive then, assuming she hasn’t run into any Tribor.”
King Leon stood and paced back and forth. “They’ve failed twice to take me out,” said Adelei. “With their client breathing down their necks, their next attack will probably be against Ida or Margaret to get to me. In the meantime, send for Ida to come back with all haste.”
He nodded when another cough shook him. The King fell back into the chair, and he lunged for his cup. The liquid sloshed over the side before he downed several gulps, and his breathing eased. “I hate this. The war is over—the treaty was supposed to protect us, to prevent this. I wish I could send you both away until—”
Adelei closed her eyes as his words trailed off. “That didn’t work very well the last time.”
She hated to hurt him, but she needed the King right now, not the father. “Order Ida back. I need to return to Margaret’s side. By your leave…?” Moisture lined his eyelids, but he nodded permission for her to withdraw. He didn’t look up from the crown resting on the table, the candlelight casting tiny sparkles across the walls like fireflies.
Duty first. Family later. She held onto the words like a mantra as she fled the council chambers.
I may not be able to ease his pain, but after finding that girl’s body, the least I can do is my job. And do it well. Adelei squared her shoulders and lifted her chin high. At first, no one noticed when she entered the courtyard where Her Highness sat watching a game of sport.
Prince Gamun smiled at her as he held the ball aloft and winked before returning to the game. Adelei kept her mouth shut and focused on the crowd that seemed to have grown in her absence. Keep her safe. Duty first. Vengeance later.
She didn’t even care that she’d thought the word. He would pay for his crimes, justice be damned.
One month.
Exactly one month until the wedding, and still things were a mess. Adelei was no closer to finding evidence on the child’s murder, nor evidence to connect Prince Gamun to anything criminal. Worse still, no word came from Captain Warhammer, and lack of sleep was driving Adelei into the ground. She rose before sunup and crashed into her bed shortly after midnight.
Instead of eating supper, she roamed the city. Adelei wore neither sepier nor Amaskan clothing, trading both in for the clothes she’d worn as Alethea. As a middle-class lady, tongues wagged around her, and she was able to pass through markets and streets with ease.
She bought an apple from a vendor in place of the feast going on in the castle and leaned against a stone building to eat. Business trickled to a crawl as families sought their homes to prepare the evening meal. Even the vendor packed up his goods as she bit into her apple.
The man didn’t say more than a simple greeting to her, so after he’d set off for home, Adelei found a nearby inn and settled down at a table to wait.
It wasn’t long before one of the more unscrupulous patrons cast a shadow across her, and she glanced up to find him grinning down at her. “A lady such as yourself should never be alone. There’re dangerous folks about.”
His breath stank of ale, but his looks were nice enough and his clothing mostly clean. She gestured at the empty seat across from her. “But I’m not alone. I’m at an inn full of patrons. Alethea,” she said and held out her hand.
“The name’s Garret, milady. Are you visiting Alesta for the big wedding?”
“What makes you think I’m visiting?”
When he grinned, he was missing a tooth. “Your accent isn’t from Alexander. Figured you must be visiting for some reason or ’nother.”
“Good call. I took a caravan over from Sadai. Curious to see this prince everyone’s in a frenzy over.”
The barmaid dropped off another mug of ale for Garrett, and Adelei pretended to sip her wine. “Now I know you’re not from around these parts.”
Adelei laughed and pursed her lips together in an imitation of Margaret’s pout. “Now what did I say?”
“Only folk I know lookin’ forward to a Shadian joining the royal family are them highborn ladies who don’t know no better.”
A few customers at nearby tables grew quiet in their conversations, and Adelei frowned at Garret. Interesting. This was the third time she’d heard citizens of Alesta point out that no one was looking forward to the wedding.
“I heard there was still a feud between the two kingdoms, though I always figured the War of Three settled all that business.” Garret laughed and took another swallow of drink. “But over in Sadai, people don’t pay much attention to the politics of others. Could be I’m wrong. It’s not like I encounter many folks on my daddy’s land.”
His eyes widened at the mention of property. “What does your father do, if you don’t mind me askin’?
“The family farm grows grapes. Fact, this wine here is my family label. Last year’s crop—not as good as two years ago. Drought hit us pretty hard. Still, least I’m able to choose the man I marry, whoever he’ll be,” said Adelei, and she smiled broadly at Garret.
He leaned over, picked up her glass of wine, and gave it a sniff. “Eh, wine’s wine to me, but its good business, I hear. Profit to be made for them that provide to the highborns.”
“Indeed. My da’s been wanting to expand some, ship some goods to Shad and further out. I figured if I could maybe meet His Highness—”
Garret leaned back in his chair, the feet scraping against the inn’s floor. Conversation around them ceased, and the innkeeper stopped cleaning the glass in his hand. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Why ever not? I mean, I’m sure everyone must be dying to meet him—”
“That’s just it. Dying. Take my word for it, milady. Keep away from that monster. It was nice meeting you.”
When he stood to leave, Adelei called out, “Wait. I don’t understand—”
As he passed, he leaned close to her ear and whispered, “The man is a mean bastard. When I said there be dangerous folk about, I was talking ’bout him. Just–just don’t bother with the likes of him. Not if you want to see your daddy again.”
He nodded to her and left the inn, his ale unfinished.
Damn.
Every time she ventured out into the city to gather information, the scenario went the same way: pretend to be someone else, ask about the prince, person freezes up and leaves by way of a warning. And that was if she was lucky.
Some people got up and left the minute Prince Gamun was mentioned.
The wedding approached and so far, Adelei had no way to stop it. Not without breaking the treaty and sending them into civil war.
Maybe I’m asking the wrong people. Maybe I need to hit the slums.
Or maybe I’m in over my head.
Weeks had passed since her encounter with Garret at the inn, and while Adelei was no closer to finding the answers she needed, at least Margaret had made progress in her lessons to defend herself. Albeit slow progress.
The princess stabbed the hay figure hard in the chest and spun around to face Adelei, grinning. “I did it,” she called out.
Adelei nodded. “Now we work on a moving target.”
Between some hand-to-hand training, where Adelei tried in vain to teach Margaret how to escape, the two sisters met as often as Margaret’s schedule allowed to focus on work with small daggers. Margaret’s eye-hand coordination hadn’t improved. She still threw candles in wide arcs and completely missed hitting Adelei, but she could stab a stationary hay man. Adelei sighed and picked up the chain mail across the chair.
She didn’t like the heavy armor, but with Margaret’s aim, she needed it. Last thing I need is for her to stab me. And knowing her, she’ll try by complete accident.
Adelei pulled the hay man out of the ha
y bale and carried him by the pole. “Okay, Your Highness, same plan. Only this time, I’ll be moving.”
At first, Margaret stood still—dagger gripped between her fingers as she watched Adelei pace back and forth. It wasn’t until Adelei shoved the hay man near Margaret’s face that the princess jabbed the blade forward. The thrust lacked drive enough to do more than bounce off the head, and Adelei didn’t give Margaret time to recover. She kept ramming the figure closer to the princess.
When the figure’s stick arm touched Margaret’s shoulder, she squeaked. The dagger struck the air twice before the hay man knocked Margaret in the head. “Look at my feet,” Adelei said as she moved. “If I step forward with my left foot, chances are, I’m going to move left. Strike left.”
Margaret wiped her sweaty brow with her bare arm. “This is impossible. I can’t watch your feet and the straw man at the same time. No one can.” The princess retreated to a hay bale, and Adelei leaned the target against the wall. She stuck her head outside the practice room door.
“You,” she called to a guard. “Come here for a moment.”
The man was easily twice Adelei’s size at the shoulders. When Margaret spotted him, she stumbled over the hay bale. “You can’t possibly wish for me to fight him.”
“Arm yourself, guardsman.” Adelei withdrew her dirk. Margaret let loose a sigh, but Adelei tsked. “Watch our feet.”
The guard looked down, and Adelei tapped his sword. “Not you,” she muttered. “You, I want to attack me.”
“Master?”
“Her Highness needs to watch our feet, so attack me already.”
He couldn’t have been more than five years past her twenty, yet he eyed her with a weariness that spoke either of fear or wisdom. If it were the former, he kept it well-hidden as he watched her shift her weight from side to side. At first, all they did was scrutinize each other. But after a few minutes, his impatience got the better of him.
The guard led with his right foot. Adelei could have trapped his blade in the slit at her dirk’s hilt but instead leaned to her left and parried. She read the surprise on his face and waited for his next strike. His shoulder straightened as he met her gaze, and he tried a quick feint before attacking again on her left. She sidestepped to the right and held her dirk up to his throat. The lack of space left him little room to maneuver, and while his sword brushed her armor, he lacked the leverage to do any damage.
Rather than press further, the guardsman released his sword. If you were under my command, I’d smack you six ways to Sathday for dropping your weapon. Adelei nodded at him, and he grabbed his sword before retreating.
“So, what did you see?” she asked Margaret.
Thought lines bunched up across her brow. “When he attacked, his feet led on the same side.”
Adelei nodded. “Not everyone will. A real pro might not, but most fighters do. Or if not with their feet, they lean with their shoulders.”
“But how can you watch that and watch their weapon? You knew where his weapon was enough to stay out of his way or block him.”
“Practice.”
“Great,” Margaret groaned. “Something I don’t have. How is any of this going to protect me?”
As she said the last word, Adelei moved. She crossed the distance between them in four steps and brought her dirk up. Margaret scrambled with her dagger but managed to block Adelei’s blade. Margaret’s eyes widened at the halt of Adelei’s dirk. “If I had wanted to harm you, my blade would have injured you. But you deflected some of the force, which would have given you longer to get away, get help, or even hurt me. No move is a wasted move.”
The guardsman from earlier stuck his head in the practice room and cleared his throat. “It’s almost time for Her Highness’s meeting with the Duchess.”
Adelei stripped the chain mail off and hung it over the straw man.
“Thank you,” Margaret whispered. When Adelei turned, Margaret waited for her at the door. The princess glanced at her with a flushed face. “I know I’m not good at such pursuits as, well, fighting or stabbing people, but you didn’t have to do this. I know you’re trying to help.”
Only by biting her tongue, did Adelei prevent her mouth from falling open. She exited the practice room first and escorted Margaret to her suite. Strands of Margaret’s hair tufted out of its braid in places, and sweat left lines down her made-up face. Nisha, her lady-in-waiting, rushed forward, her fingers unwinding the braid with deft movements. “And you meeting with the Duchess in ten minutes,” Nisha muttered. She snapped her fingers, and six handmaidens brought powders, perfumes, and brushes.
The crew set to work on making their princess presentable again, and Adelei used the distraction to duck out of the mayhem. She stopped into her own room long enough to strip her own clothes. Not that she’d worked up any real sweat against Margaret, but for the job she had in mind, she needed a completely different outfit.
Rags borrowed from the laundress and then “modified” by Adelei would disguise her today. The coarse, muslin dress smelled of hay and barns and bore several holes at the shoulder. The matching sea-green corset’s threads did little to give her a waist, though it did shove her flat breasts up and give the suggestion that she had them.
Barefoot would have been best, but Adelei didn’t want to risk the chance of injury. The slippers she pulled over her feet were a size too large, and she hoped she wouldn’t need to do any running in them. Just in case, she pulled the leather laces at the side as tight as they would go.
She closed her door and stopped short of Margaret, who was exiting her suite with an entourage of handmaidens. The princess stopped to stare at Adelei. “Where in the Thirteen did you get such a hideous outfit?”
Adelei pursed her lips. “I need to go down to the city’s lower circle.”
“In that?”
“What would you have me wear, Your Highness? If I wore something like your dress, I’d be robbed the moment I stepped foot off the main road. Besides, I need to blend in. You know, with the impoverished people of your city, Your Highness.”
Margaret flushed, and Nisha hurried her out the door. Her honor guard followed her, while Adelei turned the opposite direction. She avoided the main stairwell and took the servant’s stairs instead. When she popped out in the servant’s wing, a few of the pages stared at her a moment before continuing on their way.
The fewer eyes she drew, the better.
Once in the stables, she rubbed dirt and hay across her face and arms, then scurried out before she was spotted. A guard stopped her at the gate to the upper circle of Alesta. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Adelei pulled the silver signet from her pocket. His eyes widened at the sepier star, and he ushered her through without another word. The majority of people gave her wide clearance as she passed, doing so until she reached the second to last set of city walls. It was easier to blend once she crossed over into the lower circle.
She’d tried walking the streets as a member of the royal army. The moment the prince’s name had passed from her lips, people stopped talking to her. Before long, word had spread through the lower level that a “guard” was looking to “hang someone for talking about His Highness.”
There were several seedier inns down toward the middle of the lower circle, away from the city gates and most of the guards. When Adelei walked into the first one, the innkeeper said, “No beggars.” She held up half a notch and slid into a table. The sleeve of her dress fell down to reveal a round, pale shoulder, and she ignored it. With no stockings, her dress exposed the hint of an ankle as she sat and waited.
She didn’t have to wait long.
Within a moment or two, a woman with a much healthier chest and hips strode up and tossed a penny her way. “Clear out,” she muttered, and Adelei rolled her eyes up to meet the woman’s gaze. “This be my turf. Ye not welcome here.”
Adelei slid out of the table with a shrug, but left the coin behind. The ample-chested woman needed the money more than Ad
elei did. Back out in the daylight, she crossed the street to an alley that led to yet another inn. This time when she claimed a seat, the only two who took notice were the barkeep and an old man at the bar. She fell into the same routine, exposed shoulder and a hint of ankle, when the old man hobbled over with a glass of watered-down wine.
“Surely someone as hard workin’ as you could find work in a city of this size,” he said as he slid into the seat across from her.
“One would think, but things are changin’ wit’ the new prince ’n all.” Adelei took a sip of the offered glass and hid the grimace from her face. Watered down piss is more like.
“Aye, you be right ’bout that, I wager. Still, girl like you—jus’ askin’ for trouble in a place like this.”
“Probably. Seen my fair share o’ trouble of late. Do you think things be better under the Shadians?”
The old man touched his fingertips to his forehead a moment. When he peered at her, his eyes settled on the dirt on her cheek and the hole in her dress. “Nothin’ good’ll come of this.”
“That’s just it,” Adelei said. “No matter where I be, none can tell me why. Everyone says, Alethea, you get out of this city whilst you can. But where would I go? Least here, public girls and the like be legal and—”
He laid his hand across hers gently. “You aren’t a public girl. I agree with them that told ya to get. Head west. I hear Sadai treats folk kindly.”
Adelei shook her head. “Isn’t any use. Not enough coin to get to the border. Besides, how you know I’m not what I says?”
“Too innocent. You aren’t broken yet. Not like them he leaves behind.”
“He?” Her heart raced in her chest, and she leaned forward.
“The one few want to talk about.”
Please talk to me. Come on, give me something I can use. She took another sip of the wretched wine and breathed slowly. “You seem willin’ enough to talk.”
The door to the inn slammed shut as two patrons left. The barkeep glared at the old man, who lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “People be scared. Too many rumors runnin’ ’round ’bout this prince. I don-wanna see you tossed away like garbage. Figure if I talk to you, maybe you’ll listen to them folk that told you to flee. Alesta’s not safe no more, not for young girls like you.”