Chapter 14
CHAPTER
The ride to Nasallus wasn’t as I’d hoped.
I did not get to sit up front with Saryn, which would have given me not only a view of the city surrounding the castle, but have also allowed me to take in more of my new—hopefully—temporary home.
Instead, I was forced to stay concealed in the wagon, sitting with my trunk and doing my best to keep as clean as possible.
With each bump along the way, it was as if my muscles remembered the exact feeling of being hidden below it, and I felt them tense and spasm with each unpleasant shift.
I kept my breathing slow and steady, forcing myself to fortify my mental shields.
Soon you will be reunited with Gia, I kept telling myself.
When we arrived outside the castle gates, Saryn looked at me with his one good eye, nodding at me to proceed with the plan.
No farewells or well-wishes, just silence and a gesture.
I already knew he’d be checking for my mental shields, and I wasn’t going to fail that test. When I stepped up to a small side gate, I was greeted by a Kingsguard in a uniform just like the one Cairis would be wearing.
“What’s your business here?” demanded a gruff voice.
I reached into my bag, steadying my hand for a moment to settle the shaking, and pulled out a piece of parchment.
I handed it to him confidently, ignoring his gaze that had obviously fallen to the exposed curves of my flesh.
Gods, I thought to myself, this is what it’s going to be like all of the time, isn’t it?
The Kingsguard unfolded it and scanned the note informing him I had been summoned as a replacement for Gia’s lady’s maid who had fallen ill and taken to an untimely death.
He looked it over a moment longer, and I feared his scrutiny might lead to the realization of its forgery, but he folded the note and handed it back to me, then began to unload my belongings from the carriage.
Saryn sat still and quiet, as if waiting to go about his day as a driver and on to the next errand or delivery.
“All done,” the guard yelled up to Saryn, and with that, the horse began to trot away. Now I was alone…alone in Artume and on a mission.
The husky male picked up my things and led the way through the gate and into a large courtyard of the castle—one of many I suspected.
Inside the walls of the castle was a much different experience than that of the outside.
There were ornate stone ponds and fountains at every turn.
It was full of lush, tropical vegetation.
Tall palm and fruit trees, spiky plants, and exotic flowers were littered about the place.
So many shades of green. The walkways were a light beige stone and absent of sand, except for the bits I dragged in on my sandaled feet.
It was a stark contrast from what I observed near the safehouse.
It seemed one side of this city consisted of scavengers, survivors, and pilgrims trying to make ends meet, while the other half reveled in the trimmings of luxury and excess.
Did the people of Artume know what was on the other side?
Would they have reduced it to rubble if they did?
Having no answers to these questions, my mind sought perspective and wondered if this was how the commonfolk in Cambria felt about the High families.
Our lands were sown just before the season of renewal, tended and nursed to maturity, then plowed and harvested with great effort to maximize yield.
Our markets teemed with an array of artisans from the brawny metal workers to the delicate weavers, stitching their linens and tapestries with equal measures of skill and grace.
Cambria presented its inhabitants with the occasional drought or disease, but the lands—like its people—were resilient, and those who persevered, prospered.
Perhaps the Honored Fae, like myself, held more prestige with our sigils and banners and seasonal balls, but our coffers were filled in much the same way as every commoner—through tenacity and toil.
In what little I knew of life in Artume, hope seemed as scarce as their resources.
The land was barren and desolate. They were surviving, but there was little opportunity to thrive.
While we walked the short distance toward the castle doorway, I kept my face straight and emotionless.
I did not want to appear astonished or perplexed by my surroundings.
My job was to keep my head down, be subservient, and not ask questions.
I was a low-born now, lucky to be in service to the Crown and to have the opportunity to send my wages back to my loved ones.
I continued to repeat the story of my false background in my head, focusing on becoming the character that I would play until we succeeded in our mission.
I steeled my mental shields. One thing our training taught us was to carefully assess our surroundings and consider all elements that could be manipulated as an instrument in our survival.
I considered every ornamental fountain, every flame-lit torch in that courtyard.
Once inside, the guard approached an older female, busty and full-figured in a gown similar to mine, but in a deeper, richer shade of blue.
“Who is this?” she questioned him with some authority. Her thick accent made my ears perk as she made familiar words seem somehow foreign.
The guard set down my trunk and looked at me, waiting for me to present my summons paperwork.
I did not bow to her, but I kept my head and gaze low as a sign of respect while handing her the same parchment I’d provided him.
She, too, scanned the paperwork, eyed me up and down, and then continued to read.
After a moment that felt like an eternity, she said, “Cress Talok, is it? Here to serve Lady Gianna?”
It sounded like a question, but was it? I nodded, unsure if I was permitted to speak.
She then inclined her head at the guard and escorted us to what I presumed would be Gia’s chambers.
It was strange hearing my fake name aloud for the first time.
Blackthorn was not a surname used in the southern kingdom, so I had adopted the name Talok which was common of low-born people from the Artumian city of Caano.
I also hadn’t heard Gia referred to as Gianna since our first day at Basdie.
Was she calling herself that while here?
Luckily, Artume’s diversity of heritage and dialects meant there was no need for me to speak with a particular accent.
My dialect sounded like that of the Kingsguard and I breathed a momentary sigh of relief, knowing my acting skills only had to go so far.
She motioned us to follow her, the Kingsguard pacing slowly behind with my belongings. She offered her introduction while walking forward, making no attempt at eye contact. Her demeanor made it all the more difficult to tell if she was a friendly face or someone to fear.
“I am Shira, and I am the matron of ladies’ maids that serve His Highness’ court while they reside in Nasallus. I have held this position for many years…” She paused, as if to correct herself from accidentally exposing that she once served King Baelin.
I made a mental note, as it was likely that anyone serving the previous regime only remained employed as an act of survival.
She continued, “My servants are held to the highest standards, and if I see or hear otherwise, I will not hesitate to replace you with haste.”
She proceeded with a speech she had clearly repeated more than once as we made our way up staircase after staircase; if I hadn’t been so well-conditioned from training, I might have been out of breath.
That’s when I realized I probably should be out of breath, and began to let out little huffs to create a bit of a charade.
“Our dear king, Silas, appreciates the finer things life has to offer, and while you will find that many revelries occur here, you’d best keep in mind that you are here to serve and not be seen.
You will follow all the standard etiquette of the training you received that made you eligible for such a position here at Nasallus. We only accept the very best.”
Shira rattled off a list of instructions and rules that I took note of while continuing to assess my surroundings during her pauses. I tried to prepare a map of the castle in my head, and would continue to do so over the next few days.
When we reached the fourth floor, she turned to lead us down a long, carpeted hallway rather than continuing up to the fifth level.
As we rounded a stone column, a very tall male walked briskly toward us.
He was wearing all black, except for his accessories.
Layers of fabric draped over his lanky frame.
His gaunt appearance would have convinced me he was another servant if it weren’t for the fact that he was wearing a rather large, ornate gold collar around his neck, embedded with expensive stones, the likes of which surely cost a fortune.
No, he wasn’t a servant at all, but perhaps a noble.
I cast my eyes down and continued to pace closely behind Shira hoping I could just get to Gia before encountering anyone else, but that would have been too easy.
The male stopped before us and Shira immediately went into a low bow and I followed suit without hesitation. The Kingsguard bowed his head and held his hand over his chest, above his heart, the salute of someone who is in position to guard and serve with their life.