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“While in the village, I heard some good news. It sounds like your captain of the guard will be marrying the princess soon. May Astra bless their union,” I say, not looking up from my empty bowl.
“Oh, I don’t know how true that is. I think it’s just a rumor—villagers hoping the handsome captain will marry the beautiful princess. Like they are characters from a children’s storybook,” she replies.
I open my mouth to say something, but her brows pinch together.
“Unless they don’t have a choice,” her voice trails off as she seems to consider her own statement.
“Why would King Leopold force them to wed? You don’t think he would want his daughter to find her Amari and fall in love?” I ask, even though I know he doesn’t care.
He’s the one who offered mine to Oren, after all.
“I think our king would do what it takes to keep the divinus powers strong. We all fear what’s happening in Terra could happen here,” she says with concern.
The fear is not completely unwarranted. The divinus of Terra have been losing the strength of their powers with each generation. What used to be a power strong enough to move whole pieces of the ground to create castles and homes is now only a sliver. King Royce Winfielde might be able to manipulate large boulders on a good day. But he can only move them short distances, hardly enough to make a real impact. The two princes can’t move anything larger than a carriage, and Princess Violet wields no power. No one knows what caused their god to neglect them.
“Or what happened to Fati after their god left them,” she says with a shiver.
I snicker. “Their god didn’t leave them. They died. That’s what happens when power-hungry men fight for control.”
She stands and clears the table, taking everything to the sink to wash before speaking again. “I refuse to believe their god died. I think they left for a reason and when they can, they will return. Restoring their power and their glory in the realm. Maybe then Fati viators won’t be treated so poorly,” she says with such confidence, I want to believe it.
But Fati’s god disappeared, and nobody has seen them for generations. When they vanished, they took their power, along with the respect of the other kingdoms, with them. With no divinus to lead and protect, the people of Fati fell into poverty until desperation forced them to travel throughout the realm looking for work. As viators, they float through the realm with no proper home, struggling to survive.
Not knowing how to respond, I join her at the sink and help clean the dishes, falling into a comfortable silence.
When the dishes are washed and dried, I take a seat on my pallet bed and slip my boots on, tucking in a sleeved knife. Amelia leans on the counter on the opposite side of the common-room.
“Are you coming to the tavern tonight? Harvey got a new shipment of the Fati wine you love so much,” I say as I finish gathering my things to leave.
The delectable fruity taste of the Fati wine is smoother than the cobblestone roads. The vineyards sit directly beneath Lux and branch out from its shadow.
Amelia is a big fan of their seasonal wines and could drink an entire bottle if I let her. And I don’t, because the last time she did, she brought some ogre of a man home and had loud, unfulfilling sex with him while I tried to sleep in the common space. The next morning, I told her never again, and she embarrassingly agreed.
“Oh, I think I might have to then,” she replies, giving me a wide grin. “Plus, it is your last night working here. It would only be right of me to come for a visit before you leave us.”
While there’s a hint of sadness to her tone, her smile doesn’t falter.
I will miss my routine visits to see Amelia, but I can’t come back here. While I have loved watching my guard, knowing that we can never be together is torture. He’s so close, but I can’t touch him or speak to him.
In the two years of hiding in the shadows, watching him to make sure Leopold would uphold his end of our deal even after Oren died, it has been hard to resist approaching him. But I know he wouldn’t know me, anyway. The kings erased all traces of me from his mind. His memories of me are trapped beneath a hazy veil, preventing him from knowing who I am. They forced those closest to me to forget, knowing no one else would remember a poor servant’s daughter who never left the castle grounds.
I give Amelia a big hug before heading out the door. The sky overhead is turning shades of vibrant orange and red. The sun sets behind the mountains, allowing the air to cool slightly. The heat has been unrelenting for this time of year, but in a few short months, summer will fade into autumn.
Hurrying along the main path toward the center of the village, I quickly reach Harvey’s tavern. The typical gray stone façade and dark wood door blend in with the surrounding shops. A wooden sign hangs above the door reading “The Blue Stag” in handwritten indigo script. Several windows line the wall to help with airflow and lighting.
Uneven rows of wood line the floors of the Stag and metal candelabras with cooled candle wax collecting along the rim hang from the rafters. The bar countertop stands on one side with a handful of stools set along the lip. Shelves filled with clean mugs line the back of the bar, ready for a busy evening. Tables of assorted sizes and heights are arranged on the opposite side, chairs already placed around them.
It’s a warm and inviting space, which is why it has been so successful over the years. And since Harvey recently acquired a trove item, which allows him to keep drinks and food at a cooler temperature, business has been booming. Legends say the gods blessed the rare and highly sought-after trove items during the creation of Omnia. Most of the trove items were destroyed when the gods warred. The salvaged items are now mostly owned by the royal families. How Harvey found and purchased this chilled box? I have no clue. But the timing couldn’t have been more perfect for me as the tavern was desperate to hire a new barmaid when I arrived in town.
As I enter the Stag, I spy Harvey, already busy at work inspecting all the mugs and prepping small food items for the patrons expected tonight. I was hesitant when Amelia said she found me a job for the week at her friend’s tavern. Turns out I had no reason to worry.
Harvey is a sweet gentleman, married to an even sweeter woman, Tillie. Their love is something out of the fairy tales we tell children. The love that is true and all-consuming. A fate-blessed type of love—one I glimpsed once, or I think I did, and will never experience again in this lifetime.
“Good evening, Vivienne. I’m finishing up with the food. Can you get the candles lit before it gets too dark in here?” Harvey asks without looking up from his task.
“Of course, my liege,” I reply, bowing at the waist dramatically. Harvey lets out a small, deep chuckle in response. I put my bag down in the back room and start lighting all the candles.
