Chapter 13
Zara
The next morning, after shadowing a very pissed-off Cynthia to Territan, I shadowed to the outskirts of Amberwood. It was a small, central village in Velra, nestled deep within the Esberian Forest.
The village was built high within the massive trunks.
The trees soared to nearly three hundred feet into the sky, their massive, fibrous trunks measuring close to twenty feet in diameter.
Navigating the forest floor was challenging due to their interwoven roots, which was why they had built their village high within their branches.
Homes and shops were created within their hollowed-out trunks, and wooden structures were built between them, interconnecting with other shops through swaying wooden bridges.
Ladders were etched into their bark, giving easy access to the dwellings high above.
Peering into the forest, I sighed. Amberwood was one of my favorite villages to visit. I only wished I could do it more. Everyone was afraid of me, though. The moment they saw me coming, they ran the other direction.
Sometimes when I came to visit, I would slip into the village with a thick cloak and let my shadows blend me in unnoticed.
It allowed me to see how the village really was: the laughter, the calm.
People were happy here. I used to wish I could join in their conversations, laugh at their jokes, but I was who I was, and that life wasn’t for me.
Instead, I usually stayed at the manor, far away from the village and its people, letting them have their peace. It stretched three stories high and was ostentatious and completely overindulgent, much to the duke's taste that resided there.
Atticus.
Exposed roots surrounded its perimeter, creating a natural barrier to keep people out.
He, of course, installed another gate just within for added protection.
But it was unnecessary. The manor itself had been made from brick, but when Atticus took over as the duke, he coated it in pure metal.
It now reflected its surroundings, causing a camouflage effect and making it difficult to find.
My father had sent him away the other morning, and I wished I asked where. I didn’t need him showing up and ruining my day. I wanted to take advantage of his absence and check on the village. Cynthia's report still heated my veins.
Amberwood was a farming village, and surrounding the massive forest, miles of farmland stretched.
I had shadowed just outside the forest’s edge, not wanting to startle anyone by shadowing directly in.
That would have only frightened everyone, making them think I was there to harm them, and I decided walking in was more tactful for my purpose.
Movement caught my eye, and I swung my gaze to find guards patrolling along its edge. As I got near, they froze, their postures stiffening as they recognized who I was.
“Y-Your Highness,” one of them stammered.
He was just a boy. Tall, lanky, with long black hair and wide, pale eyes.
His uniform draped over him like an ill-fitting sack, the fabric loose around his thin frame.
He clutched a spear in a trembling hand, the tip quivering slightly as if even the effort of holding it upright was too much.
I scowled. “Don’t let the queen hear you call me that.” I stepped past them and entered the forest. They didn’t dare try to stop me, nor did they speak again as I made my way toward the village.
The scent of damp earth and pine wrapped around me while twigs and dried nettles snapped underfoot.The shade provided by the canopy above was a welcome respite from the glaring sun.
Laughter echoed down from the tall branches, and I peered up to see villagers going about their day.
Faces blurred as the swaying wooden bridges shifted, and the sound of children running and people walking floated downward.
The tavern I wished to visit wasn’t for another mile, and I didn’t want to climb up and walk on the walkway until it was necessary.
The Logwood tavern was a stomping ground for our guards.
No one would bat an eye that I was there, and I would hopefully be able to listen in on their conversations and get more information on what my father had been ordering them to do.
Morgana warned me I wouldn’t be told things after this bond formed. That she couldn’t risk Xavier knowing her plans. I guess that meant in Velra too. My teeth gnashed together, and pain flared along my jaw. I hated not knowing things.
Reaching the heart of the village, I paused at the base of a towering tree, and waited, watching the bridges above as people passed over them.
When the traffic thinned to only one or two lingering villagers, I braced a foot against a gnarled knob in the bark and pulled myself onto the ladder that was carved into its trunk.
My fingers ached as I hoisted myself up, the bark digging uncomfortably into my skin.
Cursing, my hand slipped, and the coarse bark sliced into my palm.
I glared at the tree and kept climbing, the sting from the cut spurring me onward.
I could have shadowed onto the bridge, still could, but that would have drawn more attention to my presence, and I was trying to avoid that for as long as possible.
Making the final ascent, I pulled myself up onto the wooden platform that connected to a swaying bridge. Stepping onto its creaking wooden planks, a couple turned onto it, and I froze.
A boy and a girl stood hand in hand, smiling at each other as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
They were young, no more than fifteen, maybe sixteen.
The girl was plain in a simple gray dress with an apron tied at her waist. Her light brown hair was cut short, brushing just below her ears.
Large, round eyes, warm and golden-brown, glowed as she stayed locked in the boy’s gaze.
The boy wore a gray tattered jumpsuit with a matching apron slung around his waist. They were most likely kitchen workers.
He stood only a little taller, his head shaved close so that the pale blond stubble caught the dappled sunlight like white sparks.
His deep black eyes were striking, sharp against his fair skin.
Broad shoulders and a lean, muscular frame made him seem older, stronger, more sure of himself than his age suggested.
His posture, the way he carried himself so calmly, so carefree, reminded me of someone… A growl escaped me before I could help it, and the couple whipped their heads sharply toward me, their eyes widening in fear.
Theo—I had thought of Theo. And the emotion that surged with his memory startled me. Had it been affection? As if I missed him? That was ridiculous.
As the color drained from their paling faces, my stomach twisted with disgust. “What are you looking at?” I demanded, clenching my fists.
They promptly averted their gaze and hurried past. Taking a calming breath, I waited until they had turned down another bridge before lifting my chin and heading in the tavern's direction.
With each step, I tried to shake off the unexpected feelings the encounter had just stirred up.
As I turned down the same bridge that the couple had, I sighed.
Villagers scattered into buildings as if they were under attack.
That couple no doubt warned them of my arrival.
Eyes tracked my every step as I crossed another rickety bridge.
The midday sun reflected off the shop windows as I passed.
I didn’t bother looking in. I knew what I would see—just more anxious, terrified faces.
I reached the Logwood Tavern and pushed open the heavy wooden door. The moment I stepped inside, the murmur of conversation that had been vibrant a heartbeat before vanished.
“Whiskey.”
My voice sliced through the room, and I ignored the silent stares as I approached the bar.
The room erupted with conversation again, though not as loudly as before.
Some gazes lingered, but most slid back to their meals, their rigid postures easing slightly when they saw me order a drink.
If I’d come here with business to handle, I wouldn’t have been standing at the bar—I’d have been stalking toward my target.
The young barmaid seemed nervous as she walked across the bar to get a fresh bottle. The one near her had more than enough, but I didn’t question her as she popped the cork and slid a shot my way, avoiding my eye contact.
Wearily, I brought the glass to my nose, searching for any trace of poison. I detected no nutty notes, nor any sweet or foul smells. I took a small sip, but all I tasted was the smoky oak of the liquid. Satisfied, I downed the whiskey in one go and slid the empty glass toward her for a refill.
I offered a smile to show I wasn’t here to cause trouble, but that was a mistake. The girl’s eyes widened, and she became flustered, hesitating only a moment before setting the entire bottle in front of me and hurrying away.
Guess I’d be serving myself.
Whiskey burned down the back of my throat as I poured myself another glass, and I turned to face the room. Resting my elbows on the bar, I scanned the crowd.
A sea of black and gold stretched before me, mingling with patches of tattered gray and red. Pointed ears mixed with round, and fangs mixed with blunt teeth. It didn’t feel divided here, not really. This village was more peaceful than the rest, despite who oversaw it.
A chair screeched, and a bulking form draped in leather stood from a far table. Three others stood with him, and they huddled together, speaking in low whispers. The three men were heavily cloaked, and I watched them, a sense of unease washing away the calm I had felt just seconds prior.
One of them broke away, but their face was hidden beneath their cloak. Ashen curly hair stuck out of the sides, and I tilted my head, straining to see who was underneath. I glimpsed a long, pointed nose, but they ducked out of the tavern before I could see more of their features.