2. TWO #2
Towering gray stone buildings sit in neat rows with colorful fabric offering shade to the storefronts. Even the stone streets are the same muted gray. It’s as if the whole city is washed in cloud cover despite the clear blue sky.
I shiver despite the heat, my chest tightening as I mourn the loss of the markets back home. They are a sunset personified. Warm red clay and sandstone buildings, clusters of low tables and cushions outside to welcome customers to stay awhile.
The pace here is the complete opposite, like each building was designed for ease and speed. Useful when scouting a city, but lonely to witness.
I weave a path through throngs of well-dressed shoppers, stopping at fabric shops and a woodworker’s storefront to admire their goods.
I check my surroundings in the glass but detect no shadows so far.
Not even curious townspeople keep their focus on me for longer than normal.
They only care for my coin, not my identity.
My stomach gurgles, protesting my breakfast of stale rye bread and an apple. The noise is loud enough to draw a smile from the woman next to me. She balances a baby on her hip, who is enthralled by the carved horses.
“The buns up the way will fill you right up. Red awning,” she says. Like everyone I’ve come across, she speaks the common tongue with a slight accent.
Veloria recognizes other languages but adopted the use of one base language throughout the empire. Thankfully, it’s one of many I mastered in class.
“Thank you. I’ll be sure to try some.”
The baby reaches for my shirt collar and tugs hard enough to snap my neck forward. My laugh surprises us both. She untangles the child and nods an apology before heading down the street.
I finger the coins in my pouch. Perhaps a snack isn’t the worst idea.
I find the nearest red fabric awning and a long line of patrons.
A promising sign at least. The closer I get to the front of the line, the stronger the scent of grilled meat.
My mouth waters as I take in the selection of stuffed bread in the window.
Small white signs with neat script label the different fillings, everything from fruits to a variety of sauced meats.
The fluffy bun is cheaper than I expect—only one copper.
Despite the stifling heat, I inhale the steaming bread, wincing as it burns the roof of my mouth. I opted for a meat option, hoping for something savory, but the red sauce coating my tongue is sweet and smoky. Like someone candied the meat.
It’s strange, but by far the best thing I’ve eaten since leaving home. I polish it off with some water, grateful for a bit more energy. I’ll need it to map out the massive city.
Veloria’s capital is a mini kingdom all on its own, with streets branching out like an ancient tree farther than the eye can see. The storefronts eventually give way to a courtyard that faces a massive black iron gate and stone walls.
The palace looms over the city, gray spires reaching into the sky like bony fingers, a stark contrast to the jagged black mountains that disappear into the clouds. The emperor made his home in the northernmost central point of the continent.
The palace was built on the side of the mountain, a fortress and beacon that once hosted the royal family of Mathias. A large, influential kingdom that controlled trade routes through half the continent, and the only one whose name was erased from maps completely.
The city still boasts inns, restaurants, and fine amenities fit for travelers and traders from across the lands. Mathias was the beating heart of the continent and remains the same in Veloria, equal striking distance to every territory should anyone need a reminder of the emperor’s power.
I purchase more water and find a cool place in the shade to wait and watch. Sweat pools under my breasts as the sun climbs higher in the sky. The streets grow frantic, women in fine dresses rushing from shop to shop, but their idle chatter lacks anything useful.
Less than twenty-four hours in the city and I’ve learned frustratingly little about the man who rules over it. His subjects don’t know much besides his proclivity for violence, and the wealth and stability that came from it.
Many opposed his campaign, but once the financial benefits of a united empire became obvious, the last remaining kingdoms fell in line, opting for surrender in exchange for peace and profit.
The emperor killed most of the royal families and appointed someone new to oversee those territories.
Strategically, I understand the benefit.
A royal who willingly sacrifices their people and way of life to a bloodthirsty tyrant is unfit to lead, and those who resist can never be fully trusted.
But eliminating an entire family and any possible heirs is just evil.
The same kind of evil Zala inflicted on my family.
The irony that I now seek assistance from the same kind of monster isn’t lost on me. Aligning with someone who is no doubt an old, wretched, power-hungry man turns my stomach, but any sacrifice is worth my revenge.
I need a monster to hunt a monster. I’m not above becoming one myself.
The iron gates are still firmly shut, guarded by soldiers in polished metal armor who change shifts with precise overlap. Archers roam the top of the high walls, and with the natural mountain guarding its rear, the palace is impenetrable.