A/N - Sorry for the late update! Because my family starts school next week (I'm homeschooled), I've been cleaning the house and getting everything ready this week. So there's not going to be a new chapter on Friday, as it will take me longer to write it since I have so little free time right now. But I will try to update the World Of Shattered Throne on Friday! I' really sorry for the delays, everyone! :(
Turning the page of my novel, I ask, "Are we ready to go?" No answer. I look up to find that Eliza has disappeared.
I stand up from the long, velvet chaise lounge in which I was sitting, and leave the parlor. I venture down the hall into the kitchens and find Eliza sitting on the floor in front of a large trunk, her hands covered in white powder. She looks up at the sound of my footsteps.
"Ah! Sorry for leaving so suddenly, but I needed to unpack the cooking supplies. And, of course, there was a hole in the flour bag!" she adds, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, no need to apologize. When do you want to leave?"
"Let me clean myself up, and then we'll go. Your hatbox is the yellow one on the table. Could you bring me mine?" She gestures to the dining room adjacent to the kitchen.
As I walk into the kitchen, the two boxes in my arms, I find that Eliza, magically, looks as good as new.
"Thank you," she says, grabbing her box from me. "I thought yellow flowers on your hat would look nice."
"Let me guess, your flowers are purple?"
She nods sheepishly before replying. "I'm quite predictable, am I not?"
"Not necessarily. You tend to keep me on my toes most of the time. It's why I like you."
"Um, thanks. We should go." She's blushing.
That's odd, I think. Nevertheless, I don't question it, and donning our hats, we head out the door. Four guards stationed by the door start following us. We decide to walk, as the McKinsleys don't live far from the estate. And because it’s something my parents would wholly disapprove of.
After a few minutes, I mutter to Eliza, "How are we going to shake our guards? They are my parents’ lackeys, after all. I doubt they would keep our, ah, engagements, a secret."
She smiles. “And that, your Highness, is where you’re wrong. For instance, these four—” she gestures to the guards following us “—know our entire itinerary for this trip. There are more rebels than you think in the palace. In fact, nearly the entire palace staff is against your parents’ rule.”
I gasp in shock, resisting the urge to clap my hands to my mouth. "Oh my god! I had no idea that it was so far reaching. I really am quite new to this." New to a lot of things, actually. New to the rebellion, new to people knowing of my allegiance, new to talking about it freely.
"On another note, you're going to love Cass. I can't wait for you to meet her!"
"Cass?" I ask, puzzled.
"Cassia McKinsley. Age nineteen, and my childhood best friend. I haven't seen her in years."
“She seems wonderful,” I say, smiling.
We walk in silence, both of us too busy admiring the view to talk.
I’ve seen the ocean a few times before, on the few times we leave the palace to one by the coast. The vast waters stretch to the ends of Laeris, swallowing up everything at the horizon. But I have never seen the sky look so wide, its blue expanse only being touched by the tallest mountains, reaching up into the water of the heavens.
I’ve always thought that the land outside of the gates would be anything but beautiful. Compared to the gentle rolling green hills of the capital, Amelie, how could farmland, with its grass yellowed by the sun, its gnarled tree roots waiting to trip the unsuspecting traveler, even stand a chance in a contest of aesthetics. But there’s a kind of unruliness here, a sense of wonder, excitement, adventure, that I both adore and savor.
I was right, in a way. It is not beautiful here. It’s enthralling.
+++
Despite the fact that I feel as though I have walked an eternity, I doubt it could have been more than half an hour. And as we near our destination, a charming gray farmhouse, I doubt I could have been more tired.
"You should take long walks more often," Eliza said to me, gasping for air. "Then you might be more used to them."
"You're one to talk. You sound like you can hardly breathe," I remind her.
We walk up to the door and she knocks twice. A girl, who I assume is Cassia, greets us and invites us inside. Our guards come in after us, as stoney-faced as ever.
The interior is rather quaint, if not plain, its walls painted a simple taupe color. The furniture is rough wood, with a few cushions smattered about, and hardly any decorations are present. But everything fades into the background with Cassia there. Underneath light denim overalls covered in floral paintings, she wears a spritely yellow shirt, her legs tucked into heavy brown boots up to her knees.
"You're Cassia, right? I like your overalls! Did you paint them yourself?"
"That's me, but call me Cass. Everyone does." She says, winking. "And thanks! But my little sister painted them, actually."
"She's very talented. I'd love to meet her!" I say brightly.
"Here's your chance! Wen, come here! Our princess would like to meet you."
A girl who looks to be about fourteen walks towards us from the end of the hall.
"This is Wendy," Cass explains.
"Your Highness," Wendy greets me, sinking into a curtsy.
"No name for the curtsy or the title. I'm Eira here, not a princess."
She glances at her sister in wonder, before saying quickly, "I'm sorry! It's just that you're so nice."
"Well, she's no saint. But she sure is the black sheep of the family." Eliza says to her, and I laugh.
"Very true. If my mother saw me now," I say, inwardly shuddering, before continuing. "But then again, I'm not necessarily here to inspect farmland and ledgers."
"You're a rebel, aren't you?" Wendy asks me.
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
"Well, I think that's enough pleasantries. Let's go sit down." Cass says quickly. She leads us down the hall into a small room next to the kitchen. We sit down at a large rectangular table and Mrs. McKinsley brings us a pitcher of water and some glasses before joining us at the table.
"The truth is, while I am only here to visit the rebel base," I say while making air-quotes with my hands, "my parents, for obvious reasons, don’t know that. They have been led to believe that I am greeting farmers. They will expect me to have notes, so I will need some information about your farm. Is that alright?"
"It’s quite alright, love. What do you need to know?" Mrs. McKinsley asks.
"Your main exports, and the average amount you produce of those main exports. That sort of thing."
"Well, love, I don't know much about that, but Cass will tell you what you need. In the meantime, I should go start dinner. Will you two be joining us?"
I look to Eliza to answer. She says, "We've unfortunately made other arrangements, but we can join you tomorrow evening if you'd like."
"Of course, dears. It's about time you sat at our table again, Elizabeth. Wen, darling, would you help me with dinner?"
Wendy nods before following her mother into the kitchen.
"Let me grab a pen and a sheet of paper, and then let's get down to business, shall we?" Cass says, before leaving Eliza and myself in silence.
"They seem nice," I remark.
"They are. After all these years, I forgot how wonderful they are."
I only nod in return, and we wait in silence.
"Okay, I'm back! We specialize in fruit, and our main exports are apples, lein melons, oranges, and lemons." She writes this down on the paper and says, "Here. I wrote down our average amount of produce on there, too."
She pushes the paper in my direction. Apples - 57 lbs./25.8 kg. Lein Melons - 86 lbs./39 kg. Oranges - 61 lbs./27.6 kg. Lemons - 53 lbs./24 kg.
"Is that it?" she asks as I read it.
"Yes, that should be enough.” I look at the clock. “Unfortunately, it is getting late, so we should be getting back. We'll see you tomorrow, Cass." We stand up from our chairs and walk into the kitchen, where we say goodbye to Mrs. McKinsley and Wendy.
Cass walks us to the door and I thank her for her help.
"Anytime. It was nice meeting you, Eira! I'll see you two tomorrow."
Elizabeth hugs her quickly, and we step out onto the front porch, our guards walking briskly behind us.
"What are our so-called other arrangements?" I ask her.
"I brought a loaf of bread, cheese, and some leftover roast from the palace kitchens. My idea is that we make some wonderful sandwiches."
The idea must have given me a sudden burst of energy because the walk back didn't seem to last forever. When we got back, we raced through the door into the kitchen. Eliza cuts the bread into enough slices to feed us as well as our guards, and we make our sandwiches.
"You are a genius," I tell her with my mouth full of sandwich, manners momentarily forgotten.
"I can't take all the credit. The roast beef did its fair share of the work," she replies, before taking her first bite of a sandwich.
"Alright. I may be getting close to genius levels," she says, and I laugh in reply.
And this could be the sandwich talking, but this place really does seem to be perfect.
Turning the page of my novel, I ask, "Are we ready to go?" No answer. I look up to find that Eliza has disappeared.
I stand up from the long, velvet chaise lounge in which I was sitting, and leave the parlor. I venture down the hall into the kitchens and find Eliza sitting on the floor in front of a large trunk, her hands covered in white powder. She looks up at the sound of my footsteps.
"Ah! Sorry for leaving so suddenly, but I needed to unpack the cooking supplies. And, of course, there was a hole in the flour bag!" she adds, rolling her eyes.
"Oh, no need to apologize. When do you want to leave?"
"Let me clean myself up, and then we'll go. Your hatbox is the yellow one on the table. Could you bring me mine?" She gestures to the dining room adjacent to the kitchen.
As I walk into the kitchen, the two boxes in my arms, I find that Eliza, magically, looks as good as new.
"Thank you," she says, grabbing her box from me. "I thought yellow flowers on your hat would look nice."
"Let me guess, your flowers are purple?"
She nods sheepishly before replying. "I'm quite predictable, am I not?"
"Not necessarily. You tend to keep me on my toes most of the time. It's why I like you."
"Um, thanks. We should go." She's blushing.
That's odd, I think. Nevertheless, I don't question it, and donning our hats, we head out the door. Four guards stationed by the door start following us. We decide to walk, as the McKinsleys don't live far from the estate. And because it’s something my parents would wholly disapprove of.
After a few minutes, I mutter to Eliza, "How are we going to shake our guards? They are my parents’ lackeys, after all. I doubt they would keep our, ah, engagements, a secret."
She smiles. “And that, your Highness, is where you’re wrong. For instance, these four—” she gestures to the guards following us “—know our entire itinerary for this trip. There are more rebels than you think in the palace. In fact, nearly the entire palace staff is against your parents’ rule.”
I gasp in shock, resisting the urge to clap my hands to my mouth. "Oh my god! I had no idea that it was so far reaching. I really am quite new to this." New to a lot of things, actually. New to the rebellion, new to people knowing of my allegiance, new to talking about it freely.
"On another note, you're going to love Cass. I can't wait for you to meet her!"
"Cass?" I ask, puzzled.
"Cassia McKinsley. Age nineteen, and my childhood best friend. I haven't seen her in years."
“She seems wonderful,” I say, smiling.
We walk in silence, both of us too busy admiring the view to talk.
I’ve seen the ocean a few times before, on the few times we leave the palace to one by the coast. The vast waters stretch to the ends of Laeris, swallowing up everything at the horizon. But I have never seen the sky look so wide, its blue expanse only being touched by the tallest mountains, reaching up into the water of the heavens.
I’ve always thought that the land outside of the gates would be anything but beautiful. Compared to the gentle rolling green hills of the capital, Amelie, how could farmland, with its grass yellowed by the sun, its gnarled tree roots waiting to trip the unsuspecting traveler, even stand a chance in a contest of aesthetics. But there’s a kind of unruliness here, a sense of wonder, excitement, adventure, that I both adore and savor.
I was right, in a way. It is not beautiful here. It’s enthralling.
+++
Despite the fact that I feel as though I have walked an eternity, I doubt it could have been more than half an hour. And as we near our destination, a charming gray farmhouse, I doubt I could have been more tired.
"You should take long walks more often," Eliza said to me, gasping for air. "Then you might be more used to them."
"You're one to talk. You sound like you can hardly breathe," I remind her.
We walk up to the door and she knocks twice. A girl, who I assume is Cassia, greets us and invites us inside. Our guards come in after us, as stoney-faced as ever.
The interior is rather quaint, if not plain, its walls painted a simple taupe color. The furniture is rough wood, with a few cushions smattered about, and hardly any decorations are present. But everything fades into the background with Cassia there. Underneath light denim overalls covered in floral paintings, she wears a spritely yellow shirt, her legs tucked into heavy brown boots up to her knees.
"You're Cassia, right? I like your overalls! Did you paint them yourself?"
"That's me, but call me Cass. Everyone does." She says, winking. "And thanks! But my little sister painted them, actually."
"She's very talented. I'd love to meet her!" I say brightly.
"Here's your chance! Wen, come here! Our princess would like to meet you."
A girl who looks to be about fourteen walks towards us from the end of the hall.
"This is Wendy," Cass explains.
"Your Highness," Wendy greets me, sinking into a curtsy.
"No name for the curtsy or the title. I'm Eira here, not a princess."
She glances at her sister in wonder, before saying quickly, "I'm sorry! It's just that you're so nice."
"Well, she's no saint. But she sure is the black sheep of the family." Eliza says to her, and I laugh.
"Very true. If my mother saw me now," I say, inwardly shuddering, before continuing. "But then again, I'm not necessarily here to inspect farmland and ledgers."
"You're a rebel, aren't you?" Wendy asks me.
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
"Well, I think that's enough pleasantries. Let's go sit down." Cass says quickly. She leads us down the hall into a small room next to the kitchen. We sit down at a large rectangular table and Mrs. McKinsley brings us a pitcher of water and some glasses before joining us at the table.
"The truth is, while I am only here to visit the rebel base," I say while making air-quotes with my hands, "my parents, for obvious reasons, don’t know that. They have been led to believe that I am greeting farmers. They will expect me to have notes, so I will need some information about your farm. Is that alright?"
"It’s quite alright, love. What do you need to know?" Mrs. McKinsley asks.
"Your main exports, and the average amount you produce of those main exports. That sort of thing."
"Well, love, I don't know much about that, but Cass will tell you what you need. In the meantime, I should go start dinner. Will you two be joining us?"
I look to Eliza to answer. She says, "We've unfortunately made other arrangements, but we can join you tomorrow evening if you'd like."
"Of course, dears. It's about time you sat at our table again, Elizabeth. Wen, darling, would you help me with dinner?"
Wendy nods before following her mother into the kitchen.
"Let me grab a pen and a sheet of paper, and then let's get down to business, shall we?" Cass says, before leaving Eliza and myself in silence.
"They seem nice," I remark.
"They are. After all these years, I forgot how wonderful they are."
I only nod in return, and we wait in silence.
"Okay, I'm back! We specialize in fruit, and our main exports are apples, lein melons, oranges, and lemons." She writes this down on the paper and says, "Here. I wrote down our average amount of produce on there, too."
She pushes the paper in my direction.
Apples - 57 lbs./25.8 kg.
Lein Melons - 86 lbs./39 kg.
Oranges - 61 lbs./27.6 kg.
Lemons - 53 lbs./24 kg.
"Is that it?" she asks as I read it.
"Yes, that should be enough.” I look at the clock. “Unfortunately, it is getting late, so we should be getting back. We'll see you tomorrow, Cass." We stand up from our chairs and walk into the kitchen, where we say goodbye to Mrs. McKinsley and Wendy.
Cass walks us to the door and I thank her for her help.
"Anytime. It was nice meeting you, Eira! I'll see you two tomorrow."
Elizabeth hugs her quickly, and we step out onto the front porch, our guards walking briskly behind us.
"What are our so-called other arrangements?" I ask her.
"I brought a loaf of bread, cheese, and some leftover roast from the palace kitchens. My idea is that we make some wonderful sandwiches."
The idea must have given me a sudden burst of energy because the walk back didn't seem to last forever. When we got back, we raced through the door into the kitchen. Eliza cuts the bread into enough slices to feed us as well as our guards, and we make our sandwiches.
"You are a genius," I tell her with my mouth full of sandwich, manners momentarily forgotten.
"I can't take all the credit. The roast beef did its fair share of the work," she replies, before taking her first bite of a sandwich.
"Alright. I may be getting close to genius levels," she says, and I laugh in reply.
And this could be the sandwich talking, but this place really does seem to be perfect.