Chapter 14
Chapter
She looks upon the realm and sees a gift,
Unaware that it is she who makes it so.
Iwas wrong.
Thwomp.
Very, very wrong.
“Hold on tight, Princess. The road gets bumpy around this pass.”
“You don’t say.” I rub the throbbing lump atop my head, wishing Myrrdin’s warning had come ten minutes sooner. Then I could have at least, I don’t know, tied the thin cloak around my forehead? Ugh. I am so beyond ill-prepared. Emphasis on ill.
The road through the mountains is winding and littered with jagged rocks, like the one that just sent me head first into the carriage’s rounded ceiling.
I’ve tried and failed several times to see where it might end, but between the terrifying drop to my left, the sharp rock face to my right, and the nauseating motion sickness, there hasn’t been much to see aside from the inside of a small rusty bucket someone was kind enough to hand me.
The blue pines I was able to spot—between copious amounts of bile spewing—were few and far between.
Their roots breaking through the rocky ledge, claiming space that was never meant to yield.
How I wish Father would have afforded me the knowledge of the trek ahead.
A map would have afforded me at least some small comfort, reassurance that this motion sickness will eventually come to a head.
“How’re ya doin’ in there?” Merrek’s voice cuts through the clacks and clatter.
I bite down on my answer, figuring I might do well not to point out the precarious situation I now find myself in. Seated inside what has to be a fifty-year old wooden box, riding along a very narrow passageway with two brothers that can’t seem to agree on anything, holding the reins.
I’d laugh if the thought of being at their mercy for the next few weeks didn’t have more bile burning at the back of my throat. “Great!” Just great.
“Really? Huh. Even with all that vomiting? Wo—OW!”
“She’s. Being. Sarcastic!” Merrek quips. Whatever he’s doing causes Myrrdin to jerk the reins, which in turn jerks the rest of the carriage.
Hello bucket, my old friend.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
I wake to a war zone. Not literally, though it may as well be.
The deep purple carpet of the carriage just one of the many casualties caught in the crossfire of my queasy stomach.
The velvet curtains and leather seat reek of the same putrid perfume that lingers just beneath my nose, in the lining above my breast. Worse yet, my traveling companion, the rusty little bucket that was at one point filled to the brim with the inner contents of my stomach, appears to have fallen at some point in our rigorous journey down the Ruinous mountains.
Rapped knuckles strike against the creaky metal door. “Princess, you up?” Oh, dear God. It’s Myrrdin.
I scan the impossible mess, raking my fingers through my rat’s nest of an updo. I’ve never seen so much food in my life, half-digested or otherwise. The only thing it doesn’t appear to be all over is the rusty bucket. How convenient.
Well, at least now when I hand it back to the knight, it’ll be ready for him to use. Which I imagine he will, very soon.
“Princess?” The door’s hinges rattle beneath Myrrdin’s increasingly urgent taps. He’s no doubt imagining I’ve succumbed to my illness and am lying here dead in a pool of my very own vomit.
I should be so lucky.
“Apologies, I—” What? Messed myself? Was busy blowing up my only port of transportation? More feet shuffle outside the door. I really do know how to make a man panic. Just say something!
“I had a bit of an accident.”
Seriously?
“An accident?” Myrrdin sounds distressed.
“Are you alright?” As does Merrek.
Of all the things to bring them together, it had to be bile. Smooth one, Sunday.
“Yes! I’m alright.” If alright means feeling utterly and hopelessly humiliated. Totally alright. “I could use a change of clothes, though. And maybe a bath?”
Silence.
“Oh.”
“Um.”
Inaudible whispers sound outside the door.
“Miss Sunday?”
I smother a squeal at the rare sound of Frog’s muffled voice. Because of course he would choose now to want to speak with me. Ugh. How is this my life?
“There’s someone here for you.”
I rack my brain trying to figure out which one of his men was misfortunate enough to get stuck cleaning up after my mess, when a familiar voice leaves me without question.
“My lady, it’s Rhidland. May I come in?”
My heart bottoms out, but relief doesn’t hit me until I throw open the door and see with my very own eyes, the man that practically raised me, standing before me. A warm smile stretched across his tawny cheeks. It’s only been a few days since I last saw him, but a lifetime might have passed.
“You’re here.” My voice breaks, but I’ve never felt more whole.
He shifts, the small bag of what few possessions I have in his hands. He seems unsure what to do with himself. “Well, I couldn’t very well let you go unguarded with these…”
He pauses, casting a wary glance over his shoulder at the twins arguing just yonder.
“Men. I’ve worked too hard to keep you alive all these years.
I intend to make sure you remain so. If you’ll have me?
” He bows his head, but I can see the tears welling in his eyes, awaiting a decision we both know isn’t mine to make.
“Why Rhidland, were you not the one who taught me to save my silly questions? I know as well as you that you do not need my permission to do something you are going to do anyways.” I grin.
He lifts his head, cheeks rosy and wrinkled by an ageless smile.
“I am so very glad to see you.” I choke out a laugh.
“As am I, my lady.” He steps into the carriage with both arms outstretched, and I fall into his embrace like I have so many times before. “As am I,” he repeats, squeezing me tightly. “Though, I will say, you have smelt better.”
“Hurtful!”
“Truthful.”
“Fair.” I swipe the sleeve of my cloak over my chin, rubbing at the dried bits crusted around my bottom lip. I do smell pretty foul. “Luckily for me, I now have a veteran mess manager in my midst.” I wiggle my brows. He drops his.
Already it feels like old times.
“Right. You two!” He yells from the door for Merrek and Myrrdin, beckoning them closer.
I spot the tops of their heads before they’re off, fetching the pail of water and clean rags Rhidland requested on my behalf.
They return promptly, and Rhidland gets to work scrubbing the floors after handing me one of the damp rags to clean myself with. I take it with rapt enthusiasm, eagerly scrubbing the noisome scum away.
I’m just about finished when Rhidland nods toward the bag on the bench. “Once I’m done here, I think you ought to change into something a bit cleaner.”
That’s assuming the only other two pieces of clothing I own have even been washed since last I wore them. Considering it’s been days since my last bath, I’d say the odds are slim to none.
“It’s alright. I’m happy to make do with this. Just needs a little extra scrubbing. Perhaps I could get another wet rag?”
“Perhaps not,” the old guard huffs, scrubbing away the last of my stomach’s sordid evidence.
Now it’s my turn to frown. “There isn’t any point in that. Not when everything else I have to wear is just as worse off as what I have on.”
“Everything? Are you certain?”
“Fairly. It was I that handed the garments to Peony to be packed. I think I’d notice if I had any other options.” I cast Rhidland a wary glance. It’s unlike the old man to be fixated on such matters.
He remains unmoved, the crooks in his cheeks only getting wider, revealing the whites of his teeth.
“Rhidland? What are you…” My words trail off when he stands, shifting so that the clearing beyond his shoulders becomes visible.
I step closer to the world expanding just past the mouth of the mountain. It’s unlike anything I ever could have imagined. Rich with heavy notes of old wood and dried leaves. And the breeze down here—it’s cold, but not biting.
“We are ready whenever the princess is, sir.” Someone, I think Wolfe perhaps, calls out from the front of the carriage.
Ready? But we’ve only just stopped. “Can’t we stay for a little while longer? Eat a little something while we enjoy the view, perhaps?” My empty stomach growls in agreement.
Rhidland sighs, shaking his head. Not annoyed, but amused. “You just go on and get properly ready, my lady.”
“Ready? Ready for what?” I ask, following on his heels as he makes to exit the carriage.
He turns, a small smile tugging on his lips. “To meet your people, my lady.”