Tired from the etings, the people, the honorifics, and with Brin and Tread busy, likely chatting up Mr. Cute-and-handso, ensuring their dallying, I gathered a bit of a picnic basket, a pillow, and a warm, fur lined cloak and dismissed the guards, ordering them to take the afternoon and evening off. Then, I found so pottery jugs and heated red wine in them.
That took a bit of doing. Both the heating and the carrying. Pottery can be used for cooking, so it can go on open fla. Well, the kind used here. Though, it suddenly ca to , climbing the stairs up, I should really check their glazes, see what awful, heavy tals they’re using. With my luck and this world, it’d be cadmium. But I didn’t know what the glaze was now, and that naturally ant it couldn’t hurt .
So, I heated it up, trying not to worry too much, or boil the wine, as that would undo all the efforts of those friendly yeast. Just simring, resting the jug for a while, perhaps a long while, in a larger pot of not too hot water, hoping no one would return ho to stop from going out. Pull the bottles out, dried them off, still no one here. Wrapped them in cloth and, boom, I had heated wine. Add so spices and butter if you bend that way, it’d be mulled wine. But I was in a hurry and so the spices and butter remained happily beside their friends, hanging out on their respective shelves.
Winter is good to fifteen-year-old princesses in this universe. Fifteen and a half!
It wasn’t until I got to the tower that I realized I could have just heated the wine myself. Although, maybe it was best to let the beast within sleep. Also, if I started using magic just because I could, I’d eventually slip up and soone would see. Or, you know, go full on power-mad. Yeah, better to concentrate on gaining control over it first.
I brought the hot wine, bread and cheese up to one of the towers to get away from everyone and think about what to do with the earls. Mainly Hafthon. I needed to find an answer to the future problems he was bringing. But all I could think about was pizza. No idea why. I guess because it had been a long ti. Wine, I had to bring wine. Ale would have gone better with pizza. Except, of course, I didn’t have any of that either, so wine would do.
I could make it. The flour here was granular and I’d have to work with lard or butter, but it was feasible. Pizza. Of all the technology I was introducing to this world, I’d probably be rembered for this the most. Because pizza! It almost made stand up and shout it to the heavens.
Except, I’d need so kind of oven. To my great embarrassnt, I realized then that I hadn’t been in the kitchens yet. Too busy being a princess, all priss and proper, being cooked for, served. Damn.
They might not have proper pizza ovens, and that would be a slight issue. Though, they’re simply igloo shaped, made out of bricks or stone, with a hole at the top to vent the smoke. Simple. No problem. Definitely going to make pizza later. Whiskey and pizza. Maybe it’s not such a bad world after all.
“Cayce! Here you are!” said Maitlan, after pushing the trap door open, and correcting my far too generous sentints of the world. “Aren’t you cold up here alone?”
“Uh, no. I’m dressed appropriately. What are you doing here?”
“It took forever to find you! This is the fourth tower I checked.”
I stared at him with what I hoped wasn’t the utter dismay and disappointnt emanating from my soul and then looked away to watch the setting sun. It’s always setting when he finds . There’s probably so hidden aning in that.
He pulled his own cloak tighter around his body and under his behind and sat down to my left. “Well, you brought a picnic.”
“For one, I’m afraid. And I only brought one mug. For the wine.”
“That’s ok,” he said, taking it out of my hands, picking up the jug and refilling it, “we’ll share.”
“Yeah, yeah, help yourself. Maitlan, I ca here to be alone. To consider what to do about the duchy.”
He took a long draught from the mug, then refilled it, saying, “Now you have soone to share your thoughts with.” Passing it back to , he asked, “What are you thinking?”
“Have so food.” I set the mug down, pushed over the basket, sliding it between us as I scooted a little over to the right. Probably all anyone would see if I took off my jewelry and lted him into the stone would be a bright light overtop the tower. Maybe they’d brush it off as a lightning strike.
Ah, but honestly, the little, guilt-ridden voice inside said, he wasn’t that bad. Doing his best, really. Supported against the earls. Wouldn’t be fair to lt the boy, not even a little. “Ah, I was kind of feeling guilty about holding the duchy as so kind of prize, dangling it between the earls.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty. It is a prize, one worth fighting for.”
“They all seem to feel entitled to the damn thing. At least Hafthon does. I don’t know, I guess I’m brooding. Life isn’t fair and all that. But I really should be enjoying the quiet tis.”
He took a sip, then held the cup in front of him, admiring it. “Warm, very nice. Did you prepare the wine?”
“Uh, yeah. And the al. Just so ats, bread, cheese.” Ti for one last hint, despite that he wasn’t being that annoying. “I didn’t think to make a picnic for two.”
“Oh, it looks like you brought plenty. Two jugs of wine, even!”
“Yeah, alright. How is, uhm, your brother? I’m sorry, can’t recall his na.”
“ either! He’s doing well. You needn’t concern yourself.”
“What are you going to do with him, when we go to war in spring?”
“I guess that depends on what you do with the duchy. It’d be safer for Charce to remain here if, that is, if the earls don’t fight over the dukedom. Knowing him, though, he’ll want to fight.”
“I was really hoping they’d co to an agreent and not seriously go to war over it. I an, we’re all supposed to be part of the sa team! Sa kingdom, I an.”
If you co across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from . Please report it.
“Cayce, if Hafthon doesn’t get his way, I wouldn’t put it past him. But, he’s more likely to bully the earls into following his lead. Probably it depends on how the spring campaign goes. If we lose to Barclay straight away, Hafthon will almost certainly move on the duchy.”
“If we lose to Barclay, this duchy will be the last thing on our minds.”
“You’d be getting cloistered, executed or married.”
“Yeah. Hopefully, not all three. Though I guess executed wouldn’t mind the other two.”
“Honestly now, of the three, which would you prefer?”
“Maitlan!”
“? You prefer over those three options? I’m flattered.”
I picked up the wine mug off the ground, saying not a word, except maybe a grunt of annoyance, and not a trace of a smile, took a very short sip.
He continued, “Just making small talk. , I’d go with marriage. I’m not overly religious, so cloistering doesn’t really appeal to .”
“If you were ? If you were suddenly in my body, what would you do, my lord?”
“Ah, Cayce, let’s not use honorifics in private. I like to hear you say my na. My first na.”
Looking from him to the cup, it forced to take a heavy sip, bordering on a gulp, and then sailed on past that line until the mug was nearly straight up and empty, then spluttered into a coughing fit as I inhaled so of it along the way. “Excuse ,” I managed to get out between coughs, “sorry.”
He started patting my back, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Stop, please stop.” I finally caught my breath, “I’ll never understand why people do that.”
“Why, to help get the air flowing again.”
“No, it just makes everything worse. And you know what’s even stranger?”
“No?”
“After coughing that much, I need more wine to sooth my throat.” I took a sip but stayed firmly in sip territory. “Better, much better. I should have brought so water.” One more cough.
“You drink quite a bit for a young woman.”
“I know, I know, it’s terrible.” And I don’t get hangovers. No need to tell him that, but it did make feel particularly immoral when, after passing him the wine, I said, “Here, why don’t you see how much you can drink in one go?”
“Uh, thank you. I’ll go slowly. I find that too much ends the evening too quickly.”
Ignoring Maitlan, I wondered whether I really got tipsy or if that was all in my imagination. The thought made want to test out poison, to see if I was immune, but there were potentially serious consequences if I was mistaken. Although, were I immune and not a princess, I could travel this world betting the biggest and strongest n all the money they had that they couldn’t drink under the table. Perhaps using all manner of liquids.
‘Hey,’ I’d say with a smile, ‘you wanna see a girl drink bleach? How much gold do you have?’ Nice to know I had a backup plan in case it all went south.
“Would you still drink this much in marriage?”
“God, even more I think.”
“What if your husband forbade you?”
“What was that?”
“I an, disapproved.”
“Are you trying to tell sothing?” I took the wine back from him and took a sip.
“Well, I just thought, I an, maybe . . .”
“Let’s just watch the sunset, ok? And, no, you can’t hold my hand this ti.”
“Cayce, I-”
“Shhh!”
“I have so thoughts about the duchy.”
I took his hand in mine and gave him the most deliberate and aningful glare I could, then turned my head to watch the setting sun. It worked, he shut up. Then pushed the mug over to him, and tried to ignore how awkwardly he picked it up with his left hand, ensuring his right stayed firmly attached to mine.
It dawned on at that mont he might be a virgin, and I wished and wished at the thought I was still holding the wine.
The dark bodies of ravens were high in the sky, heading away from the far-off tree line. The sun set just a touch more quickly than before, hanging over the fields and turning the grassland a rusty red that slowly and inevitably darkened under a brighter, but fading sky, as if the rust itself was being drawn away, the fields cleaned.
He lifted my hand up to his lips and I quickly yanked it out of his grasp. “Alright, alright.”
“Cayce . . .”
“No. No kissing. Calm down, eat so bread and cheese.”
“Are you secretly seeing Gun?”
“Oh my god. No! Look, Maitlan, please get this through your head. I do not want to date any of you! Marry any of you! I an, damnit, court you. I don’t.”
“The rumor is that Gun is courting you.”
I buried my head in my hands. “That’s great. Look, the duchy, you said you had so thoughts. I’m seriously going to drink myself sober if you keep talking about courtship.”
Just then, as the last rusty light was slipping off the clouds, the ravens cawed, stopped their circling and began to descend out of the sky, probably to roost, but below a certain point, they were no longer visible.
“I’ve never seen so many murders of crows, nor conspiracies of ravens in my life. Do you know if this is normal for Castle Bechalle?”
“Conspiracy of ravens?”
“Yes. Have you ever seen one this large?”
“I take it that’s the countable na for a bunch of ravens?”
“What’s that?”
“I didn’t know that’s what you call them. Ravens. I’d heard of ‘murder of crows’ before, though.”
“You don’t have ravens down at Breadamont?”
“Forgive , I’m ignorant. Maybe a little too much wine.” And it made wonder, not even the why on those nas, like why they originated, but the how. How did you know a bunch of crows was one or two murders? How many crows to a murder?
“Well, there’s a lot of them here. More than I’ve ever seen before.”
“Why do you think they’re here?”
“Could be a bad sign. Maybe a good one.”
“Well, that covers all the options, doesn’t it?”
“You should ask the archbishop or one of the wizards.”
Sothing lingered about what he was saying and bothered . In a way that I couldn’t fully form as an idea. “Why a sign? What do you an?”
“One of the older gods, I think. Associated with ravens and crows. But with murders and conspiracies, I don’t think those would be good portents.”
“Tread would know! He was telling about the deities a while back. Before we ca here.” Back by that tall statue, he’d outlined the nas of various gods and their mythological influences on the landscape. I hadn’t given it two thoughts, written it off as nonsense. But this was a land of magic and wonders and I was a moron and a newcor. Tread! Why didn’t I pay more attention to him?
I stood up to leave and Maitlan again took hold of my hand. “Hey, I’m going to find Tread.”
“You can ask him later. Don’t you et with him in the mornings?”
“Maitlan, let go of .”
“Just sit with a while. You’re always running off.”
The anger rose up then and the energy burned deep within hotter and hotter, woken and angry, it burst forth. How dare he touch ! !
He suddenly let go of my hand, “I’m sorry, of course. You’re busy and I shouldn’t have . . . I apologize.”
I quickly turned around, so he couldn’t see my hands. In the darkness, stars slowly erging, a few winking out as a fast and dark cloud covered them, I wondered what the hell was I thinking. I wanted to step on his hand and laugh in his face – his eyes had been fearful and worried – I quickly held up my arms, checking and checking for any flas, energy, I was about to blast him, but no, the iron sohow, no, a touch of fla there. On my palm. I closed my eyes, needing to calm down, gave into my senses, listening to the wind through the trees, faintly brushing across the grass of the fields-
“Cayce?”
“Damnit, Maitlan!”
“Here, no, I’ll help you pack up this basket and we’ll go ask Tread about the crows.”
It felt like waking up into a world of soft sounds and darkness, and I heard him moving about, packing up the bread and cheese, opening the basket. I looked. My hands were my own.
Turning and crouching in front of him, I took his palm as he was placing the wine into the basket, covered his hand with both of mine, pushing back a little, and said, “No, no, let’s sit for a bit. Pour a cup, would you?”
He sat back down, lifting it out of the basket, pouring, then holding the cup out for . “Alright, yes, here you are, my lady.”
“I . . .” taking the cup, my gaze rose to et his, “I didn’t an to frighten you just then.” No, no, a voice inside , perhaps a thought from myself, my original self maybe, from deep within and unheard until now, said, I ant to do far worse.
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Tell sothing.”
“Anything.”
“Why haven’t I seen your brother around?” I said his na to rember it, “Charce.”
“Well, I, uh, I posted him with my soldiers. He’s training with them daily.”
“Ah,” small talk, small talk only, gotta be normal, if this life could possibly be said to be normal, “and how is that going?”
User Comments
0 comments from readers