Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
The journey from Cathros to Avelisar will take a total of ten days.
I’m inside a small carriage, my body bouncing as we drive over rocks and other rubble on the road from the ongoing war.
My home has long since disappeared over the horizon.
I’m not used to traveling, and the dust kicked up by the wheels makes me sneeze.
On the second day, I finished reading The Warlord Chronicles. By the fourth, I’m practicing ways to use my dagger in case I need to protect myself. On the seventh day, I’m lying flat on the carriage floor with a bottle of wine in my grip, wondering if this journey will ever end.
Every time I look out the carriage window, the view remains unchanged. There is nothing but dreadfully dull grass in every direction, the barren fields empty as the silence around me. I take another sip of wine, attempting to stave off the chill of the rapidly approaching winter.
If this is what life outside the castle walls is, it is as dull as counting the stones on my bedchamber ceiling.
I had hoped to feel a sense of excitement and intrigue when I departed Cathros, but instead, I feel like a forgotten parchment blowing in the breeze.
This can’t be what true freedom is like.
The carriage thumps suddenly, rocking it from side to side. I sit upright quickly, brushing the stray hairs from my face. The carriage door flings open, surprising me. Someone nimbly steps inside while we are moving, sliding gracefully onto the bench across from me as they invade my space.
“Hello, Princess,” he says, closing the door.
I lift the bottle of wine to my lips and take another drink, narrowing my gaze at the man before me.
I study his features carefully: black hair, gray eyes, and olive skin.
He resembles Wrath’s brother. Something slightly masks his features, his pointed ears concealed beneath a helmet.
He wears Avelisar’s armor and crest, blending in perfectly with the rest of Olav’s royal guard.
I couldn’t remember his name. “Benjamin…?” I guess, unbothered if I got it wrong.
“Barnham,” he corrects.
“That’s right.” I pick myself up off the carriage floor and sit on the bench across from him. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”
“You’re drunk.”
“You would be too if you were stuck in a carriage for ten days.” I point an accusatory finger at him. “I trust things are going according to plan?”
“They are.”
“Good.” I nod, taking another sip.
“Is there a specific point when you’d like us to engage?”
“Preferably before I have to say my vows.” I grimace at the dreadful thought.
“Understood.” Barnham nods, opening the door to my carriage and stepping out. The door slams with a heavy thunk, returning me to dreadful isolation.
As we finally approach Avelisar, I am struck by how far it is from a sight of grandeur.
In fact, it looks quite downtrodden. The castle’s so-called ‘impenetrable walls’ show signs of wear and age, with several cracks forming in the stone.
Is this kingdom really secure? I pondered it for a moment before realizing it wouldn’t matter for much longer.
As we approach, I expect to find streets or towns surrounding the kingdom—similar to Cathros—teeming with life. I see nothing of the sort. The gate opens, allowing the carriages to enter Avelisar.
I reach for the handle, but the door flies open on its own. The carriage driver holds out a hand to help me. I take a careful look at his features. He resembles the Elvarran named Stanik from the castle garden, but I am not entirely sure.
Several unfamiliar people swarm around me in the courtyard.
Many offer greetings and blessings, hands outstretched in my direction.
Some even stroke my hair, and I recoil instinctively.
Others take my hand, sending panic up my arm wrapped in magic.
I rip my right hand away and yank down my sleeve as I tuck my arms to my body.
“Welcome, Highness!”
“May the gods bless you!”
“Follow me. I’ll escort you to your room!”
I ignore all of them, scanning the courtyard. Where are the Elvarrans? Why don’t I recognize any of them? I can’t identify a single face, and a faint unease coils beneath my ribs.
“Looking for someone, Princess?” I hear a deep voice.
Turning to my right, I see Olav hobbling toward me. He has a cane in his hand, using it to navigate the uneven stones. Each step is a struggle, and I wonder how he’s managed to stay in power for so long. The closer he gets to me, the further my body recoils.
“I’m simply taking in the beauty of my new surroundings.” I force a smile. “I never got to leave Cathros. Forgive me if I’m a little homesick, Your Majesty.”
Olav barks a gruff laugh. He reaches out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear, the feeling of his wilted fingers grating against my skin. “You will learn to love Avelisar.” He wraps an arm around my waist as he guides me to the castle. “Come.”
We walk through the tall iron doors and into the entryway.
It’s not as grandiose as the castle in Cathros.
The halls are smaller, and the stone is unpolished.
Hung on the wall are faded tapestries, the lanterns dim from low fuel.
A middle-aged woman is standing in the main hall.
Her brown eyes are bloodshot red as she holds back tears, her smile painted on.
Her sadness grows when her gaze meets mine.
My heart sinks.
Queen Kathryn Friedrich. She wears a deep sapphire gown with a high neckline and long sleeves.
She is beautiful, her brunette hair tied into an updo, a stunning crown of jewels adorning her head.
Upon closer inspection, she has dark circles under her eyes, likely due to a lack of sleep.
Her skin is pale and thin, like she hasn’t gone in the sun for a while.
“Queen Kathryn Friedrich.” I bow to her, lowering my head and keeping the poise and formalities of royalty. I must play the game and make it appear that everything is in order. There are potentially dozens of Elvarrans disguised as guards all around us.
“Princess Raelys Valantis.” She curtsies in return.
“See?” Olav cuts in. “We can all learn to co-exist.” His words drip with arrogance, a snide edge that makes my blood boil.
He leans close to Kathryn, conversing in short, hushed conversation.
Kathryn turns and exits the hall immediately, leaving us alone.
Olav hasn’t seen his wife—his queen—in weeks, and he did not show any sign of affection towards her.
I see red as I dig my fingernails into my palm to remain composed.
Olav returns his focus to me. “Tallulah will be your handmaiden. She will help you to your chamber. We shall hold the ceremony tomorrow and move your belongings into my solar afterward.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I say softly.
He smiles at my compliance as he kisses my cheek before walking away.
I can still feel his touch like filth lingering on my skin.
The girl he called Tallulah approaches me.
She looks young, no older than nineteen, with golden-blonde hair woven into a neat braid.
Her warm brown eyes gleam with curiosity as they settle on me.
A simple forest-green dress drapes over her slender frame as she folds her hands in front of her.
“Hello, Princess.” She bows. “Follow me.”
Tallulah walks gracefully up the main steps. Glancing behind me, I see three guards following us. I don’t recognize them as Elvarrans. Sighing, I follow the girl through several maze-like corridors.
“Here we are!” Tallulah unlocks the door with a key, holding it open for me to enter.
I step inside, immediately noticing how vast the bedchamber is.
In the corner is an oak wardrobe, a divider for changing, and a single wooden stool.
The bed is larger than the one I had back home, the headboard eclipsed by pillows.
There’s a tall fireplace with a seating area nearby, the chairs covered with lush fabric.
Two servants bring in my trunk of belongings and set it by the foot of the bed, leaving us alone.
Tallulah stands by my side, closely monitoring me. “Do you need help dressing? Or perhaps a bath?” She doesn’t take a breath. “Something to eat?”
“I’ll call if I need something. Thank you,” I say, moving towards the door. I must find Wrath or Barnham to get an update on the plan.
Tallulah sprints, slamming the door shut with a palm, entombing me inside. I hear the lock thunk closed on the outside, and a pit forms in my stomach. I am a rabbit caught in a snare, and Olav is my huntsman.
“The king has asked us to gather everything you need, Highness.” Tallulah smiles.
“I can’t go outside?” I ask suspiciously.
“We’re happy to assist you with all that you ask.” She presses her back against the door, blocking it.
“I’ve been in a carriage for ten days.” I soften my voice, trying to convince her to let me out. “I need to stretch my legs, get some air—”
Tallulah cuts me off. “I completely understand, Highness.”
“You’re not going to let me out?” I deadpan. I am isolated among a court of people I don’t trust—stranded in a kingdom miles away from my home. I realize the only person I can rely on for survival is myself.
“King’s orders!” Tallulah laughs nervously, her smile twitching at the corner.