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“Well, you can’t expect me to attend the conclave dressed in rags. I needed new dresses! What would my cousin have said?” his wife whines. “She’s wed to the wealthiest man in the court of gold, you know.”
“He’s a mortal, and will be dead before the next decade,” Junis grunts.
“That’s thepoint!” she snaps shamelessly. “He dies, she gets her fortune.”
Fawn sighs wistfully, clearly regretting her choices. After all, who doesn’t prefer a husband with a short life expectancy?
Anyone with a soul, that’s who.
“Mypoint,”Junis grits between his teeth, “is he can spend recklessly—what does it matter when he will never see his apples bloom? I have to think about what we’ll have left in a hundred years. And if I let you purchase a dress for every day, the answer will be nothing.”
“You’re lord of the court of winter!”she snaps.
“And I’ve told you a thousand times. While the council of winter might have chosen me, the actual money still belongs to the pixie bitch.”
Junis sounds positively frustrated. I make a mental note. Whoever thatpixie bitchis, if he dislikes her so much, she’s my new best friend.
“She’s banished. She might die on the ironside.”
“From your mouth to the ears of the old gods.” Junis sighs. “But we still need to be careful in case she doesn’t.”
“Why can’t you raise the tithe?” she whines.
“Because I like my head on my shoulders.”
Pity. I would prefer it on a silver platter.
We travel for the two nights and most of the day without stopping once, in an honest-to-god carriage bearing a silver poinsettia emblem enameled on dark blue paint.Fawn never stops whining. Junis never stops disagreeing with his wife.
My only prior experience with anything close to this carriage ride was back in high school, when I visited New York City with my class. We opted to waste our money on a tour of Central Park in an open cart pulled by handsome horses. I found it charming at the time. Now I know better. Carriages suck. I have a crick in my neck, and one at the base of my spine, and my ass, though seated on a padded cushion, feels like it's been worked over with a mallet.
I’m glad I’m never that desperate to pee. They don’t seem to need to stop, and I’d have to have to bring the attention to me. I make myself as small as I possibly can, never lift my head, or look at either of them. And by the grace of whatever god blesses these lands, they do forget about me.
When the staff announces that we’ve reached our destination, I'm sweaty, tired, and so sore I struggle to get up.
The doors open to a cold and dark dusk, and I have no choice but to move, reminding my kidnapper of my presence.
Fawn sneers. Her husband leers.
"See that she's presentable by the revel," Junis orders as he exits the carriage.
At first, I assume he’s talking to his wife, to my horror, but his…maids—the same ones that dressed me in the ridiculous open gown—appear. I didn’t realize they were traveling with us. Where were they, on top of the carriage? Behind?
"This way, my lady,” says the dark-skinned one.
I follow them hurriedly, glad they’re taking me away from the terrible duo. I know it’s only a temporary reprieve, but I’ll take what I can.
Row upon row of tents have been erected over an endless dale, but my eyes ignore all of them, settling instead on the humongous fortress in the valley between two mountains, reaching higher than either peak.
It's breathtaking. A castle from a fairy tale, with its slim towers, stretching so tall they seem to reach the moon. Yet for all its grandeur, the stronghold seems built as an homage to the mountains around it, shaped like a third one in the middle.
Despite the bustle on this field, the castle and the gated village at its base seem empty and quiet. Night is falling, yet not one of the thousands of windows I can see is lit.
Inexplicably, that makes me sad.
I look around; there are at least hundreds, if not thousands of large, colorful tents set up in those endless fields. How hard can it be to slip away here?
Much easier than in the fortress, for sure. But the temperature gets colder and colder every minute, the nice autumn air quickly morphing to a bitter winter as the sun disappears behind the castle.
