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I turned around to look at the rider, whose eyes suddenly grew wide; not with fear, but with something else. Then he said something I… never would have expected to hear.
“Princess Amara…” he trailed off. “Is that really you?”
CHAPTERSIX
“You… know who I am?” I asked.
The carriage rider’s eyes remained wide, his breath caught in his chest—as was mine. “Unless my eyes deceive me… the ride has been long, and I am weary, but I would remember your face anywhere, Princess.”
Valerian didn’t understand what was going on. Though he lowered his blade, he still looked ready to attack at a moment’s notice. “This is a trick…” he grumbled. “It has to be.”
The rider couldn’t help but keep his eyes on Valerian and his sword. “I wouldn’t dream of tricking you or anyone in your company, Princess. I simply… I… what is happening?”
“Who is the Queen of Windhelm?” I asked him, after a pause.
The rider seemed hesitant. I could hear his heart hammering against his chest, emphasizing his fear as if the look in his eyes didn’t already make clear what he was feeling. “The current Queen of Windhelm,” he said, pausing, “Is… Dahlia Wolfsbane.”
I exhaled, relieved, the sting of tears threatening to spill pinching my eyes. “Not Malys?” I asked.
“I-if you could pardon my saying,” he said, stammering slightly, “That woman is no Queen.” He paused again, this time to wipe tears from his eyes. “I do not know what has happened that has seen the Royalty scattered and replaced, but it gladdens me to see you, Princess.”
“Well, there’s a shocker,” said Melina from behind us.
“Yeah, this is weird,” Gullie said, echoing the sentiment.
“This Fae knows who I am,” I said, not taking my eyes off him. “Which means he knows that all is not right in Arcadia… don’t you?”
“I do,” he said, nodding, “And if I may be so bold, I am not the only one.”
“What?” Valerian asked, “Explain yourself.”
“Ease down on him,” I said, laying my hand on his. “He’s terrified, but we aren’t going to hurt him. Are we?”
Valerian’s eyes narrowed. “We aren’t,” he grudgingly said.
“I appreciate that,” said the rider.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“If it pleases your highness, my name is Balahil. I run a general trade business out of Windhelm.” He lowered his head. “I am honored to make your acquaintance.”
“Do you know what’s happened to the castle?”
“Only that some dark sorcery is afoot. It’s not right that the castle should be so dark, and ominous. It’s not right that your mother and father, fates bless them, should have been run out of the city like they were.”
“You know about that?”
“I was there that night, working late. I heard the commotion, saw them being carted out of the city at sword point.”
“Did you see where they went?”
“I couldn’t tell you, I’m afraid. I didn’t dare go out into the streets, not with so many swords around. That was when… well, that was the night Malys Wolfsbane took the throne for herself. She didn’t even have to declare herself Queen. The next morning, it was as if everyone simply… accepted her.”
“But not you.”
“Not me… and I am not alone. My dear wife understood the truth with me, but we dared not speak of it, not when so many had readily accepted Malys as their Queen. That was the night we knew something terrible had happened.”
“Figures you would’ve been spared the same fate as the royals,” said Melina. “Malys probably didn’t even know you existed and wouldn’t have known whether you recognized her as your Queen or not even if she did. No offense.”
