20. Esther
ESTHER
Ican’t help but touch my face in wonder because of the mask Regent has twisted into place for me. It feels itchy, and when I stare down into the puddle at my feet, the reflection is hideous. As it is meant to be.
Grimace hangs off the side of my coat. I pat him on top of the head, silently ushering him to return so he’s not seen by the humans as we approach the village.
He looks up at me with wide eyes, pleading.
It hurts my heart, having to shove him away again.
“When we’re all clear, you can come back out, okay?
I promise.” He heavily sighs, but I feel the scorch of my throat marking, a tender reminder of how unusual it has become to have him hidden more than by my side.
“Keep quiet and don’t draw anyone’s attention,” Regent reminds me in that coarse distorted voice he has when he wears his mask.
I roll my eyes. I’ve been given a long list of the things I’m not permitted to do.
Although it’s rather simple in theme: do as he says, and I won’t end up in chains again.
I blow out a frustrated breath when I think about the way he actually uses it against me.
Then again, I was the only one fooling myself under the pretense that he saw us as equals.
I withdraw further into myself, if anything, deserving of punishment for whatever happened with the beasts. Even I don’t know what happened, and I further try to distance myself from my own magic, terrified of what it’s becoming.
An offensive smell wafts from the village as we approach.
A lofty reek of old meat and garbage fermenting the air catches the breeze.
The sun descends at our backs, villagers torching sticks in the main town square past the gates.
A man who looks like he hasn’t bathed in months, sits on a chair lazily, picking under his yellow nails.
When he looks up, his face twists in disgust. “Fuck me and Felia, who torched your fucking faces?” He glances between us, then at Reene, quickly appraising our party.
Regent steps into his line of vision and offers him a copper coin.
“Well, since you’re reasonable about the gate tax, then come on in.
Whorehouse is down the back, or if you’re after a nice bed and warm food that’s edible, head into the local tavern.
You’ll have to pay to put your horse in the stable for a night, though. ”
I follow Regent, uncomfortable by the villagers’ stares as we walk past. They stop and glare, and one woman even gasps as she shields her child’s eyes.
My gaze finds the ground. Despite my mask, if they knew what I really am, they would most likely look at me the same.
No, there would be added hatred as well.
Regent seems indifferent to their stares.
I look toward his wide shoulders, using them as a beacon to take one step in front of the other.
He uses his mask as his shield to pass through humans alike.
He doesn’t care what they think of him or his appearance.
I thought I’d been the same, but the reality of people seeing the monster within chokes me more than I care to admit.
For its merit of hiding our identities, it’s also a mask that draws attention, but so disturbing that people won’t look twice. And I imagine if they saw Regent for his true beauty, they would be as foolish around him as I have been.
Three malnourished dogs cross the muddy path, squealing and snorting after a carriage that rocks back and forth in front of us, begging for what smells like rotting food.
If I thought Caldom Kingdom was suffering, I was sorely mistaken compared to what these villages are trying to live off.
A half-rotten tomato drops to the ground, and a man, barely able to stand and begging on the side of the main path, dives for it, fighting off the dogs for the scraps.
My stomach sinks at their pure desperation.
I wish I could help them. Master Kain told me about villages like these.
He had carriages sent out bi-monthly from our kingdom to help supply them with enough to get through, especially during the winters.
I can’t help but wonder if it was ever enough?
How many more of our people are suffering?
“Remind me why we’re in this village again?
” I ask. I try to hold back my surprise when my voice comes out croaky and aged.
I wonder if the pressure from the clay mask infringes on my neck, looking like a coil of burned and saggy skin.
We both know there is most likely no legal tax here to pass through the gates, and no fee for the horse stall, regardless Regent pays.
This village, much like the first one that Regent snuck me around, is stricken with poverty and humans trying their best simply to survive.
“There’s something I need from here,” Regent says, leading Reene, who pales against the dimming sun.
Everyone is watching us, if not because of our faces, but because his mare is most likely the healthiest and sturdiest creature they’ve seen for some time.
That, and I doubt anyone trusts outsiders.
“Stay here while I pay for a stall.” He hands me the mare’s reins, and she stomps not once but twice, pissed off about him leaving her with me.
We side-eye one another and then look back up to watch Regent enter the tavern.
“Fucker,” I say under my breath, frustrated that I’m always expected to do as I’m told.
Two elderly men rock back and forth on wooden chairs, rambling drunk to one another as their gazes flick from Regent as he disappears into the tavern and then to us.
I approach the tavern, only taking two of the steps so I can watch his movement inside, but my vision through the dirty window is blocked by a hardy pillar holding the establishment up.
A group of three men with loose legs approaches us, slurring and arguing about cabbage, until one looks up and nudges the other. My invisible chains don’t sense any magic.
“Nice horsey we ’ave here, don’t we, ol’ lady?
” one of the men with very few teeth says.
The wooden floorboards creak as I step down the steps to stand by the mare, who becomes disgruntled by their attention.
We might not get along, per se, but they’re shit out of luck if these grimy assholes think they are going to lay one finger on her.
The three men, who look in their early thirties, are also drunk. However, they’re not as drunk as the blubbery messes sitting behind me, who now watch with interest to see what happens.
“Are you deaf, ol’ lady?”
“I heard you,” I quip with a coarse voice, my irritation only growing. No matter how poor and desperate the villagers are here, even when I lived behind the walls in my own kingdom, I understood this much—survival of the fittest. It was never fair, and always to my advantage to be underestimated.
“You should hand ’er over, so we can have a play with ’er,” the man standing in the middle says, stepping forward as if entitled to the mare.
“I strongly advise against you trying. She takes a while to warm up. In fact, she still doesn’t like me.” I make a pointed look at Reene, who takes two steps back, sensing the unease of the situation.
The men on either side of the one who spoke step forward, the one on the right trying to angle closer to the mare.
“You don’t ’ave a choice, ol lady,” the leader muses.
It might not be beasts and bandits I’m fighting, but even a small skirmish with thieves might help me dust off some of this pent-up irritation.
If anything, I’m too scared to connect with my magic again, unsure of the consequences as it grows into its own dangerous beast. The man on my right reaches for her reins, his hand now close enough, making it all too easy for me.
With lightning speed, I grab his wrist and twist it around his back. He immediately breaks into a sobering scream when I push up hard and fast, clicking the shoulder out of place and shoving the whimpering mess to the ground.
“What the—” The second who flanked the leader runs at me, his hand reaching for the blade at his waist.
“Too slow,” I muse, punching it back into the sheath and upper cutting him with my open palm. He spins in the air, heavily dropping to the ground like the bag of shit he is.
Their leader screams, running at me with a knife, acting like he’s never used one before. I dodge it with ease as he stumbles forward with the force he expected to strike me with. I round kick the knife out of his hand and sweep his legs out from beneath him.
I press my knee to his throat as he gasps and chokes, his eyes opening and closing while he’s trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.
“I leave you for one second, my darling, and you’re already attacking a younger man,” Regent’s raspy voice says from behind me. My irritation grows, realizing he’s about to take my fun away.
“What’s wrong with your wife?!” the man whose shoulder I dislocated shouts as he scampers to stand upright.
“Oh, my dear boy, you should’ve seen her in her youth, rather spritely back then, although seemingly still nimble now, it would appear.” I hear the disapproval in his tone. “Now, dear, please dislodge your knee from the young man’s throat. I’m sure they’ve learned their lesson.”
I look over my shoulder at Regent, almost begrudging that it wasn’t enough of a fight to blow off any steam. In fact, right now I’d quite enjoy going a round with Regent. In the way his eyes reflect against the flickering flames, I’m certain he’s almost waiting for it.
The old drunken spectators sit at the edge of their wooden rocking chairs, their jaws unhinged.
I then look back down at the man, who is rasping to breathe and turning blue in the face. “Don’t steal horses, kid. You got it?” I try to say in my most sickly-sweet voice. His head nods reverently, and I slap him on the face twice. “Good.”
The tavern is as worse for wear on the inside as it is outside.