Chapter 9 Iann
IANN
My carriage vibrates as I shake my leg. No one brings it to my attention, but if it’s strong enough to annoy me, then I can only imagine how irritated the driver must be.
Gripping my knee, I force the nervous tic to stop. I don’t know why I’m uneasy. I shouldn’t be. Can’t recall anything I’ve done that may have solicited attention, but there is something about having a discussion, especially one with my grandmother, that makes me wary.
She isn’t cruel, blunt undoubtedly, but she has always been kind to my brothers and me.
I would even go as far to say that I compete to be one of her favorites.
The other being Deean, of course. She respects Marcel because she has to as her future king, but I would bet all of Saden’s coins that she would rather have someone else be the future figurehead of the kingdom.
Esha told me this morning that she requested me to accompany her into town today.
Unlike the rest of my family, she and Deean are the two who interact with the townspeople the most. Maybe that’s why she has a fondness for him.
It’s often a thing the two of them do together.
I wouldn’t mind joining them more often, but being away for great lengths of time makes it difficult.
The carriage door swings open and there is a sudden sway of the box, causing me to shift in my seat as someone joins me inside.
“What are you doing here?” Deean’s face scrunches at my presence, and he looks at me like I don’t belong. Pointing his head to the seat in front of me, I take the hint that I’m in his spot, and with a quick eye roll, I move.
“Does it really matter where we sit?” I adjust my coat, trying to get comfortable.
The carriage moves yet again as he plunks down. “You’re a guest on this little trip of ours, so you sit where I tell you. Remind me again why you’re here. I thought you hated going into town.”
“You’re getting me confused with our brother. Grandmother asked me to join, if you must know.” We bicker like we did in childhood. “Where are we going, anyway?”
He folds his right leg over the left, resting it on his knee, before adjusting the button of his coat. “You’ll find out.”
After the last conversation with our father, I’ve concluded that even if Deean can locate a map of Farella for me, he can no longer accompany me.
If stopping in Haymel is first, it would be unwise to take all three Saden heirs.
Right as I’m about to tell him, the carriage door swings open once more and my grandmother gets inside.
She gives Deean’s hand a pat and then sees me in the seat across from them. “Glad you made it, Iann.” She gives the roof two quick thuds, signaling to the driver to leave, and gives me an anxious expression. “We have a special treat for you.”
This better not be a repeat of last night. Between my mother and the unexpected visit from Thana, I’ve had my share of surprises.
Deean and my grandmother gossip the entire way. Some of it is interesting, but most a waste of breath. As they continue, I gaze out the window. Part of my mind watching the pristine cobblestone streets and the other, picking up small pieces of their conversation.
Just beyond the gates of the castle lay the city streets. Saden isn’t the most colorful place I’ve seen. The buildings alternate between an eggshell and cream color, each with a bronze or copper roof that shines for all of Saden to see. The neutral simplicity is still a breathtaking view.
City streets bustle with people who make way as we pass, leisurely strolling about without a care, visiting and chatting amongst each other like they have time to spare.
Most dress in a similar style to the designs of the city.
Nothing vibrant, yet still elegant. My favorite hues are those of evergreen that mix in with the peachy browns or washed-out golds.
Deean is talking about one of our many lords being caught with his wife’s sister, but I stop listening as the carriage comes to a halt.
Outside is a shop called Iffa’s Collectibles, painted in gold leaf on an eggshell canvas with sage green trimmings that run along the window and door frames of the two-story building.
By the time I turn back to the two gossipers, they are already out of the carriage and waiting for me on the path that runs in front of the building.
There is a light breeze outside but nothing that requires a coat, and across the road is the sound of trickling water where several small waterfalls flow down beyond a bridge.
My grandmother takes the lead, as she always does, and Deean and I follow her into the shop.
“What are we doing here?” I whisper to Deean, but he only waves me off.
There are a few antique shops in Saden. Several of which I’ve sold items to that I’ve brought back with me from my travels.
My favorite has always been Adrick’s, but Iffa’s is new to me and that brings with it an excitement I didn’t think I’d experience on this outing. A chance to find something new.
Inside is toasty, and despite the sun that beams in through the windows, the atmosphere is darker, gloomier than most other shops around here. I suspect the black painted walls are the cause, but the items add a bit of eeriness on their own.
“Your Graces.” A bodiless voice travels down to us.
Searching the room, I can’t find anyone beyond the endless trinkets that fill the space. That’s until a ladder, connected to a rail running across the room, moves and I spot a figure descending the rungs.
The image of them disappears behind an enormous, handcrafted ship that takes up a sizable area of square footage, and all I hear are their shuffles as they move around the display.
A man with pale white skin and dwarfism comes before us and offers a bow.
His head is eye level with my hips, and he steps on a stool to get a better view of us, and even then, his full height comes to about the top of my ribcage.
He twirls one end of his long mustache. He looks enthusiastic about our visit, like he’s been itching for this moment, but I catch a single bead of sweat on his forehead, which is not surprising.
Most people are nervous to meet royals, and usually, when they do, they don’t get three of them at once.
“You must be Bennum Iffa?” my grandmother says as she plucks off her gloves.
“You may call me Benny,” he offers, and finally dabs away the solitary drop of perspiration. “That’s if you’d like to. Ben…Bennum is fine, of course.”
“Very well, Benny.” I see some nerves fall away. “Do you have what my assistant discussed with you?”
He nods and points his head towards the stairs.
We follow behind him, allowing me to take in more of his shop.
It’s every collector’s dream. Old books, furniture, clocks, crystals, plant specimens in glass jars, and insect collections.
There is a corner with rolled up maps sprawled over an oak table and another area with timeworn boxes, and I wonder if any are filled with treasures of their own.
Reaching the stairs, instead of going up, we go around to a door that isn’t visible to shoppers.
Benny leads us inside an office, one brighter than the rest of the shop.
The ceiling is covered with a painted map of Ladora, like the one in my bedroom.
In the center of the room is a long table covered in books and parchment, and shoved in the corner is an equally cluttered desk.
All the walls have more parchment covering them. Clearly, it’s the room of a researcher.
“Is this Crispin’s work?” I ask, pointing to the ceiling.
Benny’s mouth twitches up. “It is. Crispin Iffa, my son. Did this for his dear pa when I opened the shop. He always pushed me into entrepreneurship, and I probably wouldn’t be here without him.”
Deean looks closer at the ceiling. “His paintings are all over the palace. One hell of a talent.”
“Thank you.” Benny pulls something from his desk and meets us at the table in the center. “After your assistant came in, I did some research and spoke with a few locals about stories they may have heard.”
Deean and my grandmother eagerly wait for him to continue, but I interrupt, “Excuse me, but what are we talking about here?”
“Your Royal Highnesses inquired about a map.” He sets the box on the table as my eyes fly to Deean.
“And this map leads to?”
“The Ivian Flower. Isn’t that what you’re after?”
“It’s not meant to be public knowledge.” My glare still rests on Deean.
My grandmother places her hand out for the item, “His Majesty the King, my son, is many great things, but a secret keeper he is not. I’ve known about his desire for the flower for many years.
Since you both were babes. Now Iann, would you like to continue asking your questions or would you like to see the item that will help lead you to the greatest discovery of your life?
The greatest discovery in all of Ladora? ”
The proposition makes me reconsider. Helping my father has been the main reason for doing this, but if the flower is more than a myth, then my name will be forever tied to it.
People will tell my story for years to come and it won’t be because I’m the third son of King Marcel II.
It will be because of my doing. My efforts. My legacy.
“Proceed,” I tell Benny, and I feel Deean’s hand on my shoulder, gripping it in approval.
There is still the matter of telling him he can’t join me, but how can I crush his spirit now? He actually may have come through on his end of the bargain. But with Marcel now going, it’s sheer stupidity to send all Saden heirs to Haymel.
“If it makes you all feel better,” Benny says, digging for a key in his pocket and then placing it in the lock of the box, “I was discreet in my search and whatever happens between my clients stays between us.”
“You’re a good man,” my grandmother replies, as he takes a golden item from the box and hands it to her.
I don’t know Benny from any other stranger but I accept his word, for now.