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Not nothing. For a nausea-inducing boring trip with a prickly prince.
Perhaps this is the punishment for my deeds. At least I learned that there’s something between Prince Ziven and Sayanne, not that the information serves me for anything.
If I had known it, I would never have gotten in the way. But then, he’s being such an idiot, perhaps it’s deserved. Destiny can be weird.
Ziven taps on the window, and a guard approaches.
The prince asks, “Where are we going?”
The guard is a young lad, no more than seventeen. “Lord Stratson’s estate, your highness.”
“I know that.” Ziven grunts. “Why aren’t we taking the shortcut?”
Shortcut. Does he mean… I look outside, and see a high mountain on our left. This is the road north, and that must be Mount Eye. The road surrounds it, unless…
The guard swallows. “My lord, our orders?—”
Visibly irritated, Ziven huffs. “I’m not traveling for two extra hours. Let’s take the bridge. It’s an order.”
The carriage stops, and I hear murmurs of disagreement among the guards and the coachman. Prince Ziven outranks them all, but I don’t think any of them is too pleased at having to obey him.
The guards don’t return to talk to the prince, but I sense the carriage moving forward, then turning onto a smaller road.
Excitement bubbles up in my chest. We’re going to cross the River of Tears and enter the fae territory. Our side has a mountain by the river, so the road has to go around it, but the fae side is much quicker. Merchants have taken this shortcut for a long time now without any issue.
Since King Renel assumed the throne of the Crystal Court, the relationship between fae and humans has been friendly. True that he has never been to our castle or invited anyone from our kingdom to visit his court, but then, fae are so different from us. Plus, his castle is said to move from place to place, so it’s never in the same location. Personally, I’d love it if our castle could travel. Alas, it’s not the case.
In Renel’s case, people say that his magic can’t ground his castle, or else that he’s hiding from his evil brother, the disgraced Prince Marlak. It’s a horrific story.
From what I learned, the younger and now disgraced prince looks human despite being a full-blooded fae. An aberration, some claim. According to rumors, he possesses all four types of elemental magic, an incredibly unique gift. Too bad that his gift was squandered. Twelve years ago, Prince Marlak burned alive his mother, sister, and adoptive father, getting burned with his own magic in the process. He escaped, but not without emptying the Crystal Court of all its relics. Among them is the shadow ring, an artifact that can make him impervious to any magic attack.
I think I’d run away from him too.
But the disgraced prince hasn’t been seen in years. The path is safe, and the Crystal Court has never cared about us stepping into their territory to avoid detouring for hours.
I’m going to see the Fae Kingdom! This is so exciting.
That’s one upside of poisoning my sisters. The horrible thought makes me squirm with guilt. As if guilt or shame could change anything. Well, I’m here. My company is dreadful, but I’ll get to cross the River of Tears.
The carriage then slows down almost to a halt. I ignore all my training on how to act princessly and stand up, or at least as up as I can in this carriage, keeping myself steady with one hand on the ceiling and another on the seat. There’s a bridge up ahead of us, but it’s so… improvised. Decrepit. I’m guessing Krastel or the Crystal Court never officially built a bridge here, for some reason. What I see ahead of me are some long wood planks put together that fit only one carriage. There aren’t even any railings on the sides.
Either the planks squeak or I imagine that they do when the carriage goes over them. I look down and see the river, deep down within its shallow canyon. The height is not too much from here, but it’s enough to mark a chink on the soil, a true division between human and fae lands.
It might sound funny how I see myself as a human, but it’s how I was raised. Master Otavio always told me that darksouls are human, a bit different perhaps, but the same race. I know that I heard something different in our history classes, but it’s not like we have pointy ears. And we can lie. So that’s why I say us when meaning humans. I know it’s an us to which I don’t really belong, but I don’t think anyone sees themselves as the other. I can’t belong to something unfamiliar, and yet I feel that I belong to a group that would never accept me.
I know. Makes no sense. My solution to avoid thinking about it is to practice, study, memorize facts. Tons of facts. For instance, this river is some ten feet deep, even though it’s so narrow.
I’m glad when I can only see dirt under us, and know that we’ve crossed the bridge. From here, the road turns and borders the river, edging grasslands on the other side. I try to look into the distance, see more of the fae land, but all I glimpse are some green hills. As we move further along, the grasslands are slowly replaced by a forest, and what an incredible forest. Perhaps it’s my imagination, but I can swear the colors here are more vivid, with leaves a deeper green than on the Krastel side.
The forest gets closer and closer to us, fig trees spreading their twirly branches, golden and rose tree trumpets flowering, filling the landscape in color. There are also tall kapoks and eucalyptus, so many other types of trees, and so much ground vegetation. It feels untamed, wild, unpredictable, and yet I can feel a quiet power emanating from all that greenery.
When I look back and think about Krastel’s side, the farm fields feel dead. I know they are food and life and work, and yet there’s no power of nature there, as if it had been buried. And then, I like to eat, so I’m thankful for all the farms. The fae have farms on their side too, although some of it is within forest grounds, but then I doubt it would look so wild.
I wish I could get out of the carriage and step foot in that untouched soil, but that’s a pointless wish, and would ruin my perfect princess dress. I still have a job to do here, and I’d better do it fantastically well. Maybe there’s still a chance Otavio will change his mind about me. If not him, perhaps Andrezza will let me take assignments more often.
Still, the earthy, fresh smell of flowers and leaves is relaxing, invigorating, and being here, by this magnificent forest, feels like a gift.
I’m drinking in the view, when something feels amiss.
