Chapter 17 Iann
IANN
It took us a few days to travel out of the mountains, and another few days later, we ended up in a village called Foxhead.
We weren’t meant to stay in the village, but Deean ate old meat and ended up vomiting in our carriage, which had Esha vomiting with him.
All of it was a hot, smelly mess. With nightfall coming it was best to get a place in town.
Of course, we weren’t as welcome as we would have liked, and found ourselves without a place to sleep that night.
Thankfully, a woman overheard the innkeeper using colorful vernacular about us being Saden.
Despite the many attempts to assure him we were there to end the feud, he still wasn’t accommodating.
The woman, who was privy to the whole ordeal, said her name was Adreena, and she led us to her family’s home.
She and her husband put us up for the night.
Having two daughters who no longer lived at home meant two available beds.
Marcel, who was still annoyed with Deean, took his own bed this time while I took the other one, and Deean was left to sleep on the floor.
The rest of the crew stayed in the carriages or in the study our hosts kindly offered.
There hadn’t been much to the room. The bed was warm and provided much more cushion than any inn we had stayed in so far.
There had been a torso of a mannequin, which Deean hated, draped in an unfinished dress, along with scrapes of fabric on the floor and parchments with sketches of outfits.
I assume one of the daughters must have been a seamstress or designer of sorts.
In the morning, some of Queen Cayleen’s guards came for us. They were supposed to have met us at a place called Pointers Pass but when we didn’t show they went searching.
Today, we are to finally arrive in the city that rests before the castle gates.
As we plod forward, I notice city streets are darker than the ones in Saden.
Not dirty or tainted, but unlike the light neutral colors of Saden, Haymel looks like it is stuck in an eternal autumn.
Deep reds, browns, and oranges run rampant along the streets and buildings.
Golden flags with a black embroidered fox wearing a crown wave from every other building.
According to many stories, the Queen has an obsession with foxes, which is why our father sent us off with a golden fox to gift to her.
“You ready?” Deean asks me.
He wears a distracting fake beard and mustache. He thought he looked too much like Marcel and me, which he does, and to blend in as one of the crew he decided to disguise himself. He even changed his clothes and accent, for whatever reason, and has fully committed to the part.
“You look ridiculous.” My vision shifts back out the window as I watch the gate open for us, anxious for the task ahead. “We could have just said you were a cousin or something.”
Deean waves me off. “No relationship is best. And me being your courtier means I still have access to the important things.” Esha coughs a little before taking a sip of water. “You don’t mind, right, Esha?”
Another part of his grand plan is to wait on me hand and foot. Well, pretend to. Meaning Esha gets to enjoy a little time off and I’m going to end up doing everything myself.
“Also I was thinking”—Deean plays with his disguise—“maybe it would be best if you call me Eli during this trip. Having two Esha’s might be confusing.”
“Eli? Like your old dog?” I question the hilarity of it all.
“Figured it would do for the time being.”
“I suppose it works. Although, it shouldn’t be confusing because there is in fact only one Esha. The only one making this difficult is you.”
Deean comes closer and grips my shoulder. “You know this will be twice as fun with me here. Just you and Marcel…” He grimaces at the thought. “How boring that would have been. You know he’s no fun.”
There is a little pride in knowing I’m the other fun brother, especially coming from the king of fun himself.
The carriage jolts forward, and we move up a gravel path towards the cream-colored castle, almost like a pale yellow when white flower petals die. The rooftops are a washed-out black, nearly gray, giving it an old, almost eerie feel.
From the window, I see a woman standing in front of dozens of people.
Her hands are delicately folded in front of her as she waits for her guests.
She wears an off-white dress with traces of olive green, Saden’s colors.
Her skin looks like it’s been coated in amber and the strands of her hair are the orange of a dying fire, nearing a dark red.
Her thin lips form a straight line, and she doesn’t look excited for this visit, making two of us.
I stretch my neck and flex my fingers. The muscles in my body seemingly tense, and the thrumming of my heart finds a faster beat.
“I thought she would look older,” Deean says, looking through the window. “She’s near our parents’ age but looks closer to Marcel’s. How is that possible?”
“Magic,” Benny says with a sarcastic awe as his smile fades. “I’ve done a fair share of studying on the Queen, especially since I knew I was coming here. A lot of people believe she has special ties to pretty powerful enchantresses.”
“Blasphemous,” Esha whispers.
I’ve seen the workings of enchanters during my travels.
Have even used some of their creations on my own trips—a secret that I will take to my grave.
Their presence in Saden is illegal. Of course, I could find one if I really searched; but throughout our kingdom’s history their dark magic has been known to cause more issues than solutions, so my great-great-grandfather made their practices illegal.
“Don’t be so uptight, Esha.” Deean is still glued to the window. “Whoever she is working with has her looking great. Or maybe she’s blessed by your divinity. Did you think of that?”
“No.” Immediately a floodgate of thoughts rises, all of them involving Deean screwing this up. “Whatever you are thinking, you are to rid it from your mind. You are acting as one of our workers and that’s it. The Queen of Haymel is off limits to you, do you understand?”
He turns to me and draws his eyebrows together. “Why would you say that?”
“I know you. Your mind is both predictable and a mystery, and that in itself needs to be studied. You are not allowed to flirt, drink with, kiss, or sleep with anyone on this trip. I will force you to travel back with Marcel if I find out you have done any of those things.”
“Flirting for some of us is like breathing. We may not even know we’re doing it.”
“I mean it.”
“Fine.” Aggressively he shuts the drapes and falls back in his seat.
The carriage door swings open, all eyes drift to me, knowing I have to exit first. I scooch past Esha and lower myself onto the steps of the carriage.
The air has a slight bite but is durable, and the sun is hidden behind a patch of clouds.
Marcel gets out of his coach, and I wait until he moves to take my first step. Eventually, we walk side by side to the welcoming party.
Marcel and Queen Cayleen greet each other first, shaking hands, and Marcel ever so slightly bobs his head.
“Thank you for opening your kingdom to us, Queen Cayleen. The dissolution of our kingdom’s feud is long overdue.” He steps back and it’s my turn.
I copy the smooth ease he had while walking up to her. She places her hand in mine. It’s silky and a little cold, despite the long-sleeved dress she wears.
She holds my hand for a few seconds, then her hazel eyes scan over me and then behind me at the rest of the bodies waiting.
“Thank you both for coming.” Her vivacious tone has the people behind her smiling at us, and she speaks with precision, knowing exactly what she wants to say. “I would like to introduce you to two of my ladies who will gladly be escorting you throughout the week.”
She steps aside, revealing a woman in bold colors who looks like a divinity who’s returned to walk this earth.
I keep my eyes on hers, which is hard, and I also catch the subtle perusal my brother gives her frame.
“This is Lady Vera. She has served me a great deal of time and will be here to show you, Prince Marcel, all the finest things Haymel has to offer.” Vera curtsies and gives my brother a smug look.
I hear Deean whisper something behind me but ignore him.
The Queen takes another step to the side.
“And this is Lady Ariah. One of my newer ladies but I’m sure she’ll be able to show you a great deal, Prince Iann.
” Ariah curtsies and I swear I’ve heard her name spoken somewhere before.
I know I haven’t seen her, surely, I would have remembered a face like hers.
Although she’s not of royal blood, that I know of, I would argue she is the most put together.
I would even go as far to say her style choice surpasses the Queen’s.
She has the tiniest coils that are collected in a beige ribbon, where a few curls break loose and hang at the sides of her ears and over her shoulders.
She too, wears a long-sleeved dress but the material running up her arms and at her neck is lace, teasing me with pockets of her brown umber skin.
Her lips are a plush pink and glossy like they have been coated with oil.
“Are you ready?” Marcel whispers under his breath before he nudges my arm.
“What?” Confused as to why he’s trying to get my attention.
That’s when I see the Queen extending an arm up the steps. “I asked if you both are ready to explore the grounds.”
I hadn’t even realized she was speaking to me. Clearing my throat, I find an answer for her. “Um, yes…Yes, I am.”
The Queen leads, with Marcel and I following behind.