“We do. A lot of them. My father believes in drafting them young—too young. Many are trained to fight before their horns are even grown.”
She falls quiet, but I don’t explain further. There’s only so much of my father’s sins I can package into a sentence, and I don’t plan on telling her that it will be one of the first rules I change when I officially become king. She thinks of me as a monster; no point trying to change her mind.
A scent hits the air, causing her to pause, her eyes fluttering.
“What is that smell?” She mumbles.
“That would be the bakery,” I say, nodding to the stone building, its crooked chimney puffing out smoke. “Run by Marta.”
Daisy’s stomach growls audibly, and she groans, crossing her arms over it with embarrassment.
“Come,” I say with a faint smirk. “I’ll get you one of my favourites.”
We enter the bakery,the door creaking with the sound of old iron hinges. The scent of emberfruit, burnt sugar, and spiced flour wraps hits us immediately. The heat from the ovens kisses my skin, wrapping around me like a familiar embrace. Daisy’s breath catches beside me, her eyes wide as she takes it in: shelves lined with charred-black loaves dusted in powdered frost, twisted sweetbreads glazed in honey, and tiny cakes that glitter with what looks like stardust. Marta looks up from behind the counter. She’s ancient—white braids twisted back from a stern face, her eyes sharp as obsidian blades behind her glasses.
She squints. “Well, well,” she mutters. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day you brought company, Korithax.”
I grunt in response, rolling my eyes. “Don’t start.”
Her eyes scan Daisy from top to toe with such intensity that even I feel slightly nervous. “Who’s this?”
“She’s to be my bride,” I say flatly. “Your queen.”
Marta blinks. For half a second, she’s silent, and I brace for impact. Then she lets out a sound between a scoff and a gasp and flings herself around the counter with surprising speed. Before Daisy can even flinch, she’s wrapped tightly in the kind of hug that could crush ribs.
“Blessed skies,” Marta breathes into her shoulder. “You poor, poor girl.”
Daisy snickers, the corner of her mouth tilting up. “I know.”
Marta pulls back just enough to cup Daisy’s face between her rough, flour-dusted hands, examining her like a jeweller examining a rare stone. Her expression softens—not something I often see from her between her scoldings.
“She’s never hugged me like that,” I mutter under my breath.
“Because you’re not lovable, boy,” Marta snaps without missing a beat, flapping her dishtowel at me. She turns her back to us as she returns to the counter to grab a tart. “You’ve got all the warmth of a frozen corpse.”
She hands a tart to Daisy—golden crust, glistening with crystallised sugar and filled with ember fruit. She accepts it with both hands, eyes wide with awe. I watch her as she takes a cautious bite, curious to see what she’ll think of the treat. Her eyes practically roll back into her head. “Oh my gods,” she moans. “This is insane.”
Marta beams like the freaking angels just came down from the sky to greet her. “She can stay.”
“Uh, where’s mine?” I grumble, crossing my arms.
Marta tsks and tosses me one with a roll of her eyes. “Always so needy. Go on, eat that before your sulking curdles my icing.”
I roll my eyes and lean against the counter, biting into my tart as the two of them chat. It’s surreal, the way Daisy talks toMarta like they’ve known each other for years. The way Marta already looks at her like she’s something precious. The warmth between them is something incredible to behold and I find myself watching the sunshine girl in my world, and not wanting to look away.
Eventually,we leave Marta’s, weaving back through the winding stone paths through the village. The smoky-sweet scent of the bakery still lingers faintly on our clothes. She’s gone quiet again, her arms folded as her eyes scan the unfamiliar realm as if she’s trying to memorise every detail. We’re nearing the same fields we arrived in when she suddenly gasps and stumbles back with a sharp intake of breath.
“What?” I snap, hand already going for one of my blades as I instinctively step in front of her.
She points, her face a shade paler than it was a second ago. “What the hell is that?”
I follow her gaze, preparing for an ambush. Instead, my eyes land on a flamebeast descending from the cloudless blue sky, its wings stretched wide. The crops in the field ripple from the impact of its landing as its wings fold with a slow, deliberate grace. Its crimson scales shimmer under the light of the sun—iridescent like a thousand shimmering embers. The beast is twice the size of a mortal steed, with a long, serpentine tail swaying side to side and horns that curl back, sharper than blades. Its eyes glow molten gold, narrowed in a suspicious gaze.
It moves slowly towards us, and I tense, watching every movement, ready to strike if it so much as bares its teeth.
Daisy grabs my arm, her fingers trembling slightly. “Is it safe?”
“They’re not usually interested in people,” I mutter, more to myself than to her.
