Interlude – Princess Saga Aaberg, Royal House of the White Bear
Interlude
PRINCESS SAGA AABERG, ROYAL HOUSE OF THE WHITE BEAR
“Blast these winds.” The princess yanked her wig down once again.
While she wasn’t the only one in Winter’s Realm with pink hair, the hue was rare among faeries like Saga.
Had she been a nymph or a dryad, the princess need not give her hair color a second thought.
Thankfully, ensuring she remained unrecognizable when they left Avaldenn had been easy enough.
An obliging and loyal whore of the Warmsnap Tavern had given the princess the wig of obsidian dark hair to wear during her travels.
The disguise cut down on their worries, but it far from eliminated them. Walking down snowy roads on horseback left little to keep her mind occupied, so for days, Saga had worried.
Where were Vale and Neve? What was going to happen to her father and Rhistel if Neve did take the throne? Had she truly hugged her mother for the last time just days ago?
Last but not least, she worried for her friends, especially Sayyida, Marit, and Neve. All three hung in the throes of danger.
But maybe Neve and Vale have already saved themselves? Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. If only I’d have another vision. A better one this time.
The princess lifted her eyes to the sky, to the dead gods resting amongst the churning stars. They never answered her pleas, but that did not stop her trying. Perhaps give me a vision with signposts? We need them.
The worries filled her heart, consumed most of her minutes, and there was only one way that the princess found to lessen them. Any time they were not on horseback, she wrote in her Book of Fae. Even as she thought of the journal, her fingers itched to put quill to paper.
“There are lights just ahead,” Lord Riis said. “See through the trees?”
Saga sighed with relief. They’d left Avaldenn on horseback, stopped in Kethor, and then a tiny village before they were able to truly rest at Riis Tower. That night of security passed too quickly for Saga’s liking and the next morning they were back on the road.
The princess had briefly wondered if she should have stayed at Staghorn Castle with her Vagle kin.
The castle of House Vagle was only a short distance through the forest from Riis Tower.
But her mother claimed the spymaster would keep Saga safe until they found Vale, and Lord Riis insisted on going south, only stopping in Myrr.
If they did not find Vale and Neve at the Balik’s castle, then they could gather a force to help locate them.
A half an hour later, they entered the village. Saga scanned the streets. The sun fell two hours back and most fae were tucked in their homes—hiding from the winds, most like.
“This is Kalbaek, about halfway between Liekos and Odelia,” Lord Riis murmured. “It’s been a long time since I’ve passed through.”
“You own no businesses here?”
“No. So this is perfect for us.” He shifted in his saddle. “The tavern is right up there.”
She smelled stew and spotted a small longhouse with faelights aglow and had to agree. It looked like most of the taverns in Avaldenn, if maybe a touch smaller.
They approached the establishment and stable younglings ran out, eager to make a late-night coin.
Saga beamed down at them. She’d always liked children and had dreamed of having many of them one day.
The idea of future children would have been the only pleasant aspect of the couplings she’d have to endure with her future husband—a duty she could not shirk, thanks to her royal blood.
When that male had been Vidar Virtoris, Saga had not relished the idea, but at least Vidar was kind and a friend.
He and Sayyida shared the same eyes. Saga had forced herself to believe that might be enough.
However, her father ended that betrothal and set another to the Warden of the West. Try as she might, Saga rarely found anything likable, or even redeemable, in Lord Roar.
“Two coppers for the horses,” one stable lad said.
Lord Riis gave them four claws. “Make sure they’re well fed and taken care of. They like apples too, if you have them.”
“We do, mi lord!” The younglings led the horses away, and Lord Riis ushered Saga into the tavern.
The place was rather empty, and Lord Riis approached the bar and ordered their food, while Saga took a seat by the fire. Once settled, she pulled out the Book of Fae and tore a page from the back.
Sayyida had been on her mind every day since her friend had left Avaldenn.
She suspected Sayyida returned to Virtoris Island as a protest over her arranged marriage, and Saga desperately wanted to get word to her.
Deeming them far enough from Avaldenn to risk it, Saga penned a quick letter to her oldest friend, asking her to join Saga in the southlands.
By the time she finished, Lord Riis had returned.
She folded the paper, to which he arched his eyebrows. “What’s that, Princess?”
“A letter to Sayyida. I plan to send a raven tomorrow before we head out.”
Lord Riis swallowed. “You know where she is?”
“I can guess well enough.”
He stared at her, his brown eyes as sad as the day they left Avaldenn.
They hadn’t spoken of his kiss with the queen, but there had never been intimacy between her parents.
Their marriage had been political, and neither ever claimed otherwise.
Because of that sharp lack of love in her family Saga could tell that Lord Riis and her mother were different.
They had truly loved one another, and this was hard for him too.
“What does it say, Saga?”
She rolled her eyes but really, she should have expected the question. He was, after all, the spymaster. Used to knowing all that went on even more so than her.
“I asked her to come south. To meet us in Myrr.”
“She can’t sail all the way to the landlocked southlands.”
“She’ll have to hire a sleigh at some point, but Sayyida can manage. Vidar might come too, especially if he thinks Vale is there.”
Vale’s cabal were the most loyal of friends, and Saga had hinted in her letter that they were on the hunt for Vale and Neve.
“Tell her to avoid docking in Grindavik,” Lord Riis said.
“Sail into Vantalia and have her use the name Lady Glia. She should also not parade about in Virtoris colors or with their sigil, no matter how tempting the privileges. Once docked, tell Sayyida to go to the brothel flying my banner near the docks. I’ll have an escort waiting for her. ”
“She’ll be offended that you think she needs anyone to help her,” Saga replied.
“Her offense is the least of my concerns. Her ship and influence over the Nava, however, might be useful.”
Saga nodded slowly, unsure about all that was transpiring—that Neve was a cousin, and, if the rumors were true, might wish to dethrone her father.
A part of her hated the idea, but another part, the bit that despised her title as princess for all the restrictions that came with it, wondered if it wouldn’t be so bad to no longer be royal. She could live more freely—marry whomever she wished.
Unsure about so much, Saga sighed and turned to the letter. She added the last parts stipulated by Lord Riis before closing it back up.
“You won’t regret adding that, and neither will Sayyida. We’ll have it sent off in the morning before we set out once more.”
She looked up at the male her mother loved. Perhaps she had loved him for all of her life? Saga did not dare ask.
“What will happen if Neve takes the throne?”
His brown eyes softened. “If you fear for yourself, you need not do so. She loves you, Saga.”
“I don’t fear for myself.”
She did, however, worry that her father and Rhistel might be harmed if Neve seized the throne. Her eldest brother did not deserve Saga’s concerns, but she could not turn them off. That was a failing, a too warm spot in the heart of a daughter of Winter. A weakness.
The stew arrived before she delved deeper into her failings.