Chapter 14
We parted ways once we arrived back at the castle, but not before Tarben asked if he could see me the following day.
“I’m sorry this afternoon didn’t go according to plan. For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed your company and I’d like to see you again tomorrow if you’re free,” he said.
I, of course, agreed to accompany him on a tour of Barvik the following day. Our afternoon together may have come to a sudden and disturbing end, but things had been going well before then.
To my relief, he didn’t seem to want a timid airhead. I could have played the role if I needed to, but it would have pained me to do so. Wit and confidence looked much better on me.
After dinner and a long soak in the bath, I fell into bed, willing its warm and comforting embrace to carry me away from the horror of the afternoon. Sleep came for me, but it only offered nightmares of seals cruelly mutilated with a swift dagger.
When I woke to take my potion, I was sweating and panting. It took such a long time to fall asleep again, that, by the time Runa cheerfully entered my bedchamber with my breakfast tray, I questioned whether I had slept at all.
I inspected myself in the mirror and was horrified by the near-violet shadows under my eyes.
Thankfully, Runa’s skills worked wonders. I looked fresh and blooming in a seafoam green and gold damask gown with floral patterns, my hair twisted and pinned at the nape of my neck.
Tarben was already waiting for me by the time I reached the entrance hall.
He brightened when he saw me, and I couldn’t help but notice the appreciative once-over he gave me as I made my way towards him.
Just as I couldn’t help but notice that he looked undeniably handsome in his dark green tunic, breeches and riding boots.
“You’re looking radiant as ever,” he said, his voice laced with playful charm. “I hope you’re ready to see the kingdom. The real kingdom.”
“I’m ready, and deeply honored that His Highness could take time out of his busy schedule to accompany me on a tour,” I said in a teasing tone. It was easy to slide into banter with him.
“Ensuring my esteemed subjects are well acquainted with their new home is one of my most important royal duties, and one I take very seriously,” he replied.
“Duly noted. I’ll be sure to treat it with the reverence it deserves.”
I was raring to see the city. Nice as it was to have explored the castle, it wasn’t enough to satiate my appetite for discovery.
After a life spent starving for travel and adventure, I wanted to immerse myself in the mortals’ land.
I wanted to sample everything, and I would savor each moment doing so.
But my first barrier arrived when we reached the stables.
“I thought we’d take Saltswift and Hazel,” Tarben said, gesturing to a white stallion and the chocolate-colored mare with a white star on her nose: Amalie’s horse.
Heat rose to my face as I sheepishly admitted, “I can’t ride horseback. I was never taught.” I averted my gaze, loathing that I had to admit this shortcoming. I waited for the teasing. It didn’t come.
Instead, he lifted a shoulder and said, “Not a problem. Let’s take Salt—I’ll ride and you can just hold on and enjoy the sights.”
He must have misread the look of surprise on my face because he quickly added, “It’ll be faster than a carriage.”
I chewed on my lip while I contemplated his offer. The thought of being on a horse again was not appealing. The thought of being on a horse with him was. The idea of having his body so close to mine was not the worst thing in the world.
He sensed my hesitancy. “You’ll be safe with me, I promise.” His voice was gentle and patient, revealing a side of him I had not yet seen.
I took a deep breath. I would get on the damned beast. I’d done it before and survived, hadn’t I? Summoning my most confident smile, I said, “Would you be so kind as to help me up?”
***
Riding a horse was not as uncomfortable as I remembered. For one thing, the scenery was a welcome distraction.
At first, the sparsely-vegetated landscape was peppered with boulders and scattered rocks.
But, as we progressed along the weathered trail, a transformation unfolded.
Trees, grass, shrubs, and occasional clusters of wildflowers were abundant on either side of the pathway, saturating our surroundings with life and color.
For another, it was far from unpleasant being tucked into Tarben’s warm, strong body. It made me envisage other ways I could enjoy him pressed against me.
We didn’t talk much, but it was an easy silence.
For me, there was a comfort in allowing myself to get lost in the soundtrack that accompanied us: the whistle of the light wind, the rustling of leaves and branches, the overhead trills of birds and the hypnotic clip-clop of hooves against the ground.
The spell of silence was broken once the high walls of the city came into view. “Welcome to Barvik,” Tarben said into my ear. The warmth of his breath sent an army of goosebumps marching up my arms.
My eyes widened as we approached the open gates that marked the main entrance to the capital city. Dozens of travelers navigated towards it. Some rode on horseback, others sat in carriages, a few were in wagons pulled by mules, but most traveled on foot.
Once we passed through the large, bronze gates, my senses came alive.
We were greeted by a vast market square thrumming with activity.
The space was tightly packed with merchants selling their wares and haggling over prices with prospective customers.
The market hummed with the sound of one hundred different voices all speaking at the same time.
I was taken aback by the sheer number of people. Some hurried with purpose, while others meandered among the stalls, embracing the lively atmosphere. I expected to join them, but, as if reading my mind, Tarben said, “There’s more—just wait until you see the port.”
We headed down cobblestone streets lined with rows of timber-framed houses and buildings painted in various shades of red, blue, green and yellow. I gaped at them, admittedly charmed. It was as if each building, regardless of its scale or grandeur, seemed to possess its own distinct personality.
“Why the colors?” I asked Tarben, not taking my eyes off the scarlet-colored inn we passed.
“It’s tradition. The people of Solvardunn are a proud nation and the colors are more than just nice to look at, they’re symbolic. We are proud, and we are bold, no matter our station in life.”
I was impressed. The colors said as much about the buildings as they did about the people who inhabited them.
Eventually, one of the narrow streets led us to the busy port, and I could immediately see why Tarben liked it.
Vessels of varying shapes, sizes, and hues dotted the calm waters, mirroring the playful colors of the nearby structures.
Its docks were bustling with merchants and sailors loading and unloading cargo, as well as passengers readying themselves for upcoming voyages.
Its vast pier was home to inns, taverns, and a thriving marketplace that stretched out as far as the eye could see.
“This is my favorite place in the city,” said Tarben as we dismounted and headed for the marketplace.
It was similar to the market square at the entrance of the city, but bigger. Far bigger. This was a sprawling terrain of wooden carts and colorful canopies. Amidst the fresh, ocean breeze, clear skies and sunshine, it pulsed with vibrancy.
For what seemed like hours, we wandered through the market. Against a current of fast-paced bodies, we took our time. Over the clamor of vendors calling out, loud chatter and lively haggling, we talked and laughed.
It was easier than I expected, immersing myself in the experience. Enjoying Tarben’s company.
I marveled at all that was on offer: textiles of every fabric and color, fragrant spices from eastern Anerdor, lush perfumes, trinkets and talismans to bring good fortune and ward off evil, fruit, meat, fish, flowers—so many different kinds, each as lovely as the last. Tarben watched in patient amusement as I flitted from bunch to bunch, inhaling the sweet aromas and interrogating the florists over the names of each species.
When I was finally ready to pull myself away, Tarben presented me with a lavender-petaled flower with a yolk-like disk—an aster.
My body stilled as he gently placed it behind my ear and declared, “Stunning,” in a low voice.
The sweet moment was somewhat tarnished when my stomach chose that exact moment to release a resounding growl.
“Time to feed you,” Tarben said, lips twitching. “I know the perfect place.”
Taking my hand, he bustled us towards a corner of the market dominated by food vendors that smelled of smoked fish and meat pies.
No less than five minutes later, we stood watching street performers juggling and doing acrobatics while eating sticks of warm meat.
I was apprehensive at first, but it only took one bite to convert me.
I enjoyed the unusual taste of spicy and rich and salty with a hint of sweetness.
Tarben laughed as he watched me tear into it, all manners and dignity forgotten the moment the explosion of flavors unleashed themselves in my mouth.
My grandmother would have been appalled.
Once we were finished, Tarben bought us each a pastry covered in cinnamon and sugar.
“A local delicacy,” he said. I devoured it.
So much so that he bought us another two.
“I’ll be sure to have Cook make them for you at the castle, now that I know you’re partial to them,” he promised, eyes dancing with mirth.
Bellies full and sufficiently entertained, we strolled back towards Saltswift. As we neared the sunshine-colored tavern where we had left him hitched to a post, a male voice boomed from behind us: “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the princeling.”