Chapter 23
Otho woke before me as always. He wasn’t in the room when I opened my eyes, and I dressed in silence, choosing the outfit that was less dusty for a meeting with the king.
I wished I’d done laundry, but I knew if the king wouldn’t take me seriously in these clothes, he wouldn’t have listened had I dressed in something cleaner.
I dug in my pack for my vials, wincing as I took the last dose I had on hand of the belladonna.
I would need to find some today after our meeting with the king, though Otho assured me that wouldn’t be a problem in a town the size of Shianp.
My nerves were on fire, making it a challenge to accomplish even the simplest tasks. It wasn’t until I was nearly out the door that I spotted the note that Otho had left on his side of the bed.
Gone to grab breakfast for everyone. Back soon.
-Otho
My heart warmed at the thoughtfulness, but also at seeing Otho’s handwriting for the first time.
For some reason, I’d assumed that the general of a military would write in a hand that was barely legible, but Otho’s handwriting was pristine.
The letters were even—written in a flowing cursive I knew I would never be able to emulate, especially considering I’d grown up being forced to write in the exact same hand as my brother.
There was a pinch in my chest at the thought, but I pushed it away, knowing today was too important to worry about what had occurred with my brother the day before.
And knowing him (and I did), I would be seeing him again soon, even though we hadn’t parted on the best of terms.
Folding the note and tucking it into my pocket, I searched for the books Otho had acquired the day before, only to frown when they were nowhere in sight. Either Otho had already packed them, or he had taken them with him, either option causing my stomach to flip.
Before I could ponder that further, however, there was a knock at the door, and I pulled it open to Ena’s smiling face.
“Good morning. We are meeting downstairs for breakfast.”
I checked my pocket for the key to the room before following her down the stairs.
Like the inn where I’d met my brother, there was a room filled with circular tables and a few chairs.
Everyone, except Otho, was already there, huddled around two tables toward the back.
I slid into the chair next to Ena, the one on my other side left empty—presumably for Otho.
“How did you sleep?” Askel asked with a smile from Ena’s other side, even though there were dark circles forming under his eyes now.
“Better than you, apparently,” I joked, but no one laughed, and I didn’t miss the way Askel’s eyes flickered to Ena.
Confused by the solemn mood and secrets I wasn’t privy to, I checked with my empathy magic, but either everyone had gotten very good at blocking me overnight, or no one felt any strong emotions at that moment. I frowned.
“We should start training again tomorrow,” Askel suggested, but his gaze still rested on Ena as she tugged her dark hair into a neat braid that fell over one shoulder.
I leaned in so I could whisper in her ear, “Do I want to know?”
She blushed and shook her head, her embarrassment reaching my gift.
Well, that answered my previous question.
Everyone turned to look behind me, but I didn’t need to do so to know who stood there. Even before our bonding, my body had always been aware of him, and now it was no different. He slid into the open seat next to me, dumping the contents of his arms on the table.
“Boiled eggs—one per person—and then you can choose a fruit.”
Hands reached forward, grabbing at the eggs and fruit that rolled on the table. Though it was nice to have something other than jerky, this definitely wasn’t what I imagined Otho would find for breakfast.
I must have projected that thought, because Otho answered with, “It was the best I could find that I was able to carry enough of. This inn only serves afternoon tea, no breakfast.”
I nodded, handing him my egg before biting into the apple I’d chosen. “I’m not that hungry.”
Otho didn’t question it, moving to peel my egg. I watched as his fingers deftly pulled off every sliver of the shell. The moment the egg was shell-less, he ate it in two massive bites.
“So, are we all going to see the king?” Karl asked, his mouth full of boiled egg.
Otho shook his head. “No, I was only going to take Runa. It’s a long boring day of waiting in line, and I doubt the king will allow all of us in at the same time anyway. There are rules to ensure safety.”
“And Ena is coming with me,” I added, not giving him a chance to argue, but I could tell from his emotions he wasn’t thrilled about it.
“She may have to wait outside,” he replied.
I shrugged, focusing on the fruit in my hand. I wasn’t going to see the king without Ena and Otho wouldn’t dissuade me from it.
I regretted giving away my egg, because it meant breakfast was over in just a few bites, and then Otho was reaching for my hand. “Are you ready?”
I looked over at Ena, who was finishing the last slice of her orange, before replying, “As much as I’ll ever be.”
The three of us rose from the table, Askel’s eyes following Ena’s movements as we made our way toward the door. Though we were just walking across a dining room, I felt like my feet were stones, and we were wading through mud.
Something inside me whispered that we shouldn’t continue. That I should return to the room upstairs and tell Otho I was ready to go back to Heimland without seeing the king.
But at the same time, I couldn’t. We’d come all this way because of my stubbornness, and the least I could do was speak to the king.
Even if the answer was no.
Exiting the inn, we took a right, heading up the street.
I hadn’t noticed the night before, but the street was straight, and at the very end stood a large plaster-covered wall, which surrounded an even larger plaster-covered palace, both installments taking up more than a large share of the horizon.
The plaster was lighter than what we made in Heimland, making the palace almost seem to glow, thanks to the sunlight it reflected.
I squinted, trying to gain a better idea of the shape of the building.
My hopes plummeted.
Although I couldn’t see the details as much as I would have liked, the shape and height were similar to Malheim, and the palace looked far too much like the ones in Heimland for me to believe that the king would react any differently than the viscounts in Heimland.
At least, based on my experience.
Still, I trudged forward, Ena on one side, Otho on the other.
His hand held mine, guiding me closer to him as we weaved around carts and people in the street, preparing for their day.
My nerves hoped the street would stretch on forever, while my heart begged me just to get this over with so I could go home.
Or at least, figure out where my home was.
As we drew closer to the wall, a line of people came into view.
Most were dressed like me, though many of the women bounced crying babies or had toddlers weaving around their legs.
But we all had something in common—we all appeared very tired, and no one was dressed any fancier than I was, except perhaps for Otho, who was in his general’s uniform.
No one was dressed in multiple skirts like the ladies who had passed the inn the day before, and that said everything I needed to know.
Otho guided Ena and me to the end of the line. “It will move quickly,” he promised us. “It’s usually much longer than this; it’s good we arrived early.”
I frowned as I counted at least thirty people in front of us. It didn’t feel like this would pass quickly. And if it did, that meant the king didn’t spend much time with each individual, a factor which had my stomach twisting.
“What did you do with the books?” I knew it was brazen to ask, but I had to know.
Otho’s gray eyes glanced down at me, and I could feel a flicker of an emotion I didn’t recognize—perhaps shame—as he answered, “They’re in a safe place.”
I bit my lip, glancing over at Ena, who didn’t appear concerned as she leaned down to talk to the small boy who was hugging the woman’s leg in front of us.
“As soon as the king is in, guards will come to list everyone in line as well as state the reason for their visit.”
“Wow, that’s . . . organized,” I mused. I had become so used to Adis and Hansen acting like little boys over land and magic, it was refreshing to see the king didn’t handle things that way.
“He’s a good king,” Otho promised. “He really does listen.”
I frowned. Again, it seemed like Otho knew more than he let on about the king, and again, I felt like I should leave. But I didn’t, even though my heart had taken up residence in my throat
We hadn’t been waiting long when the line murmured in excitement, and I spotted two guards at the front, dressed in a deep red, a stack of parchments clutched in their hands.
They made their way down the line with some speed, only stopping for a few beats with each individual—enough time to scribble down a name, and a reason for their visit.
When they were only six people ahead of us, one of them glanced our way, his gaze immediately drifting to Otho.
He dropped his feather quill and rushed over.
“Sire! The king didn’t mention you were coming today!” His gaze darted between Otho and me, his confusion cresting like a wave.
“I’m not. I’m merely here in support of Runa.” His facial expression was neutral, and I recognized it as one he often wore in diplomatic situations.
Ena stood from where she had been playing with the boy, her attention turning toward us.
“It’s no matter. Come, no need to wait in line.” The guard motioned Otho and I forward, and I struggled to swallow as the other individuals in the line gasped. But none appeared to be angry as we passed them, slowly making our way toward the front.