Chapter 12 #2
I follow in her wake as she leads us out of Stratford City.
I haven’t spent nearly enough time in Avon’s capital, and so I try to absorb as many details as I can as we ride.
Many of the city’s roads are bustling, outdoor marketplaces and food vendors lining the cobbled streets.
Just as many alleyways are dark and dingy, littered with trash.
Beggars occasionally reach out a hand, but we are traveling too fast for me to offer much help.
I make a mental note to bring more coins with me on my next journey to La Puissance.
If I am going to lead this country, I need to know it. And the people need to know me.
I am somewhat surprised when Caterine turns down the path I take to get home to Scota. I draw my horse next to hers. “Where are we going?”
She shoots me a look, nudging her horse to go faster now that we’ve left the city behind and have open country road and rolling green hills in front of us. “You’ll see,” she shouts over her shoulder.
I dig my heels in to keep up. The wind is icy on my face, the air cooling the farther into Scota we travel. It’s bracing but also helps clear my head, and I’m grateful for it.
We ride for maybe two hours before coming to a stop in front of a stone building that looks like a strong wind might destroy the whole thing.
I thought my travels had taken me to every corner of Scota, but I am unfamiliar with this location and which family might reside in this home made of crumbling gray stone.
A light rain mists the air, and it lends to the feeling of hopelessness blanketing the structure.
Caterine jumps off her mount, tying the reins to a post before bringing over a bucket of water for the horses to drink from. She is clearly familiar with this property and the people who reside here. I wonder if this is where she grew up.
I tie my horse off next to hers. “Where are we, Caterine?” I don’t doubt my ability to fend for myself should the situation turn dangerous, but I do need to know what I’m walking into.
“Just Cate here.” She turns and begins walking toward the front of the estate, not bothering to answer my question.
I catch up in a few long strides. “Cate.” Saying her name shouldn’t send a shiver through me, yet it’s enough to almost distract me from the question at hand. “I need to know where we are.”
She comes to a stop with a sigh. “No one here is going to hurt you.”
“That isn’t what I’m afraid of.” It’s a little bit of what I’m afraid of, but I can’t make myself say that to her.
She studies me for a silent second. “This is an orphanage. An orphanage for Gifted girls who have been abandoned by their parents.”
I suck in a breath. “Oh.”
“Yes. Oh.” She begins walking again, at a much slower pace this time. “Should you decide to stick with me for the rest of today’s journey, you’ll visit one in Talia as well.”
“You go all the way to Talia to visit an orphanage?”
“I visit the ones in Kalmar and Venezia too, they’re just too far apart to get to all of them on the same day.” Her hands wrap around the strap of her canvas bag, her knuckles going white with the tension in her grip. “I was born in Scota. You probably didn’t know that.”
“I didn’t.”
“My sister, Andra, and I were abandoned by our parents when we were young, probably when it became clear we would both turn out to be Gifted. I will not lie, Scota treats their Gifted better than the other provinces, but that does not mean the people are without their prejudices.” She turns toward me, halting her steps once again, her eyes watching my face and taking in every one of my reactions.
“We were sent to live here. This Scotan orphanage.”
I swallow thickly, my throat closed up with foreboding. “I have visited many such places, Caterine. I’m glad to know that you were cared for.”
She laughs humorlessly. “I doubt you have been to this one. Was it caring when the wardens denied us food if we didn’t complete the hours of chores they assigned us each day?
Was it caring for them to beat us if we dared to ask for a break or, heaven forbid, step out to use the toilets? ” Her eyes dare me to contradict her.
I don’t know what to say. I have never seen such things taking place in Scota, but I certainly don’t pretend to know everything, couldn’t possibly know everything that happens throughout the entirety of the province.
And she’s right, I have not been to this particular facility.
I don’t know the differences between an orphanage for Gifted children and one for “regular” children.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Caterine.
I assure you that had my father known of these atrocities, he would have done something to stop them. ”
She opens her mouth, ready to argue with me, but surprises me instead.
“About ten years ago, the director of this orphanage was removed from his position. Things have improved since then, in terms of the quality of care the children receive. Though they of course would face difficulties when they come of age if it weren’t for the Uprising, as they would not be legally allowed to work without a man to vouch for them.
The Gifted don’t have to fear for their lives in Scota, but that does not mean it is easy to survive. ”
I take her words to heart. We Scotans have allowed ourselves to feel morally superior to the other provinces of Avon—at least we don’t hunt and kill our Gifted—but if we deny them the right to work and support themselves, are we really any better?
“How long did you live here?” I ask quietly.
“Almost three years. I knew we wouldn’t survive much longer if I didn’t get us out, and so we ran away one night and came to Stratford.
We lived on the streets for a couple of weeks, begging for scraps and relying on the kindness of strangers to keep us safe.
Harold took us in shortly after. Provided us with the home and care we should have received back in Scota.
He took better care of us than anyone else ever did.
” Her voice hardens with resolve, as if relaying the story has solidified something in her mind. She begins walking again.
I follow her in silence.
She pushes through the wide wooden door without knocking.
The moment she crosses the threshold of the building, the stone floors cold and echoing, she is mauled, a horde of young girls of various ages attaching themselves to her legs.
The tension in her eyes immediately lightens and she laughs, reaching down for the smallest girl and hoisting her up to rest on her hip.
The girls chatter over one another, their volume and pitch so high I can’t parse out any of the words.
Though it’s clear these girls love her, and that she loves them right back.
An older woman with smooth warm brown skin and a head of dark curls strides purposefully into the entryway. “Girls! Give the poor woman room to breathe!” Her voice is sharp but kind, and the young charges immediately obey their mistress, giving Cate room and ceasing their chatter.
Cate leans in, exchanging a kiss on the cheek with the woman before setting the girl in her arms back on her feet. “Sorry I’m late.” She throws a glance my way. “I got unexpectedly delayed.”
My cheeks heat as the attention of the entire room focuses on me. I don’t know how I am supposed to introduce myself, but luckily, Cate takes the decision out of my hands.
“This is my friend Cal. He wanted to come along today to say hi to all of you.”
The girls eye me warily. I try not to look as intimidated as I feel.
“I like Andra better,” one of the girls claims.
Cate leans down and whispers—not at all quietly—in her ear. “Me too.”
“He is handsome, though,” pipes in another.
“I suppose so,” Cate says with a smile. She reaches for the hands of the two girls closest to her. “Well, what are you waiting for? Show me what you have been up to this week!”
The girls need no more encouragement, tugging her up the stairs and down the hallway, chattering audibly even once they’ve ducked inside one of the many rooms.
“Prince Callum.”
Shit. Of course the headmistress of the orphanage knows exactly who I am.
I straighten my shoulders and reach out a hand. “Just Callum while I’m here, please. Pleasure to meet you.”
She raises one arched eyebrow like she means to challenge that notion. “Amelia. I’m the warden of this care facility.”
“Could I trouble you for a tour?”
Her second eyebrow rises to meet her first. “Of course. I have offered many times to host the royal family for a tour. No one has ever taken me up on that offer.”
My stomach churns. It’s a condemnation, and not a subtle one. “I apologize for that. But I am here now, and I would like to hear about what you do here, and how I might be of assistance.”
Amelia turns on her heel and leads me through a stone arch, into the dining room of the building. There’s a long wooden table in the middle, mismatched chairs along either side. “I take care of up to ten girls at a time here.”
“Only ten?”
She shoots me a withering look. “Only ten Gifted are permitted to reside in one location at a time, are they not?”
I clear my throat, chastened. “Right.” I suppose I never considered the law being applied to children, but it does make sense to limit the number of Gifted who can gather in one space. Otherwise they might be able to combine their powers and use them to overthrow law and order.
Though the Uprising was able to do that just fine on their own, without the Gifted army we’ve always feared.
Amelia continues her tour, leading me around the well-appointed, if old and outdated space.
She points out the books and paper, the writing instruments and paints each child has in the makeshift classroom.
“Cate has made sure we are always fully stocked on the supplies we need for the girls’ education. ”
“Does the money you receive from the province not cover such expenses?”