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A small stable comes into view, and we slow as we approach. We all dismount from our horses. A young man strides toward us before halting at the sight of the queen’s horse. His shoulders slouch and he groans loudly.
“Not Midnight. He tried to eat me the last time you were here, Margo.”
The queen laughs and hands over the reins, causing the man to flinch.
“Keep him with the little gray mare, and he won’t be an issue for you this time,” she says, pointing over at me. The man mumbles aggressively as he takes Midnight and then my mare. The two grumpy horses follow the man without a fight, pressing close together as they go.
I step toward the queen, a scowl on my face. “So, your name is Margo? You could have just told me your name.”
She turns to face me, tracing the wrinkle in my brow with her eyes.
“That’s not my name, Captain. It’s a name I go by here,” she folds her arms across her chest. “Remember, they don’t know who I am. They only know me as a viator—here to do business like everyone else.”
“So why can’t I call you Margo?” I ask, frustrated by others being able to call her by a name. She talks about trust but refuses to give me a name other than the queen to call her.
She laughs and places a hand on my arm. My muscles flex as the sparks skirt my skin.
“You can call me any name you like, Captain,” she says with a smirk before heading down the gravel path.
Hiram cackles loudly as he watches us.
Glad one of us is entertained.
The crunch of the gravel turns to clicks as the path changes to cobblestones. I walk in my spot beside the queen, with Hiram and Marcus close behind us. I freeze at the sight of the village.
Dark stone buildings with multicolored roofs line both sides of the path. But the most shocking part is all the people. There’s a massive crowd filling the center square. Their voices echo off the walls. There are shops with doors swung open, inviting shoppers and the rich autumn air inside.
Various merchants from all over the realm have set up small booths in the square with their goods. Vibrant colored artisan depictions of the landscapes of Omnia, aromatic baked goods, any kind of trinket or clothing you can imagine, and a blacksmith shop forging new items for buyers dot the street.
“If you see something you like, please let me know, Theo,” the queen says, breaking my shock.
I look at her. She looks just as dazzling as a viator as she does as a queen.
“There are goods from every kingdom here. How’s that possible?” I ask, refocusing on the awe-inspiring scene before me.
There shouldn’t be a village here. There shouldn’t be a village where people from all over the realm gather to sell goods. No one has trade agreements with Umbra.
But the queen said that they did. And it looks like they do.
There is no way that this is a ruse to get me to cooperate. Not even King Asher can create an entire village just to get me on his side.
How have we been so wrong? Is anything I’ve been told in Lux true?
The queen slides an arm into mine, and I don’t resist it this time. I let her force me into escorting her through the village. I try not to think about how she fits perfectly in the crook of my arm as if she was made to be there.
“I told you we have treaties, and that extends to merchants as well. They must remain honest and fair to continue their sales here, and most are more than happy to make the trip,” she explains, leading me into the throng of people.
“I don’t see a ring on your lady’s finger, good sir. I have some mighty fine ones, so you can make an honest woman out of her.” A middle-aged man with a plethora of miscellaneous goods comes up at my side with every finger donning a different ring in every color.
My cheeks redden at the implication, and Hiram practically falls over, laughing hysterically.
The queen shoves Hiram playfully, which only makes him laugh harder, and he stumbles away to Marcus, who’s at a table on the other side of the row.
She waves the man away from us. “No, thank you. I like to keep my options open. This one is just pretty to look at,” she says, patting my arm and pulling me along the path, heading closer to the buildings.
She stops us near an alley leading to another section of the village. The market is a flurry of energy, and I scan the crowd, trying to take it all in. A few people stop and greet the queen as Margo.
I watch the villagers through the eyes of a guard and not the prisoner I am. Easily slipping into the same role I would if I were with Junie at the market. Strangely, her guards don’t seem too concerned about her safety since they’re on the other side of the market—out of eyeshot.
