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11

“Upon the rush, the sweet summer breeze,

I sat and saw the sea in the trees

As branches and leaves and willows and oaks

Had danced and shook with laughter in droves.

I wished upon the shooting stars

On seas of ink above, so far

Above my head, beneath my feet

I rode the waves as they gave me sleep.

Sing my song and read my rhyme

I tell a tale as old as Time.

Where though I cannot reach your hand,

I’ll see it off in distant lands.

My love, my pride, I can only say

You shine bright in all my days.

I hold you tight as you sleep near;

Remember, child, you need not fear.

For though the one you sought is gone,

Take your time; it won’t be long.

I will return, once renewed.

My joy shall always stay in you.”

I recall reading during that idle spring afternoon as we left home; the heavy whispers of air treaded lightly among the branches, rustling the leaves like sheets of paper and sending the words from my tongue up in the drafts of peaceful stillness. Adrianne’s feet tapped lightly against the wooden boards of the carriage, sending a rhythmic hum to the world around me and as I continued reading the poem, many memories were brought to mind on that path towards Cheverton.

One such memory was a simple one, yet it brought joy to my heart in its recollection and I smile at every moment when I remember it, like I did then as I stared out the carriage window.

That particular day was a cloudy one, yet the weather was warm enough for us to go outside. I stood beside Marcus as Mother and Father walked up the pine trees. There we stood, overlooking the ridge into a valley of wildflowers, soaking the sun and we laughed as we ran through the fields, like spring bunnies dashing through the bushes. I recall the soft blanket and the cheese, the crackers, the red grapes and the scent of fine wine in the air as we ate heartily. I recall the red juice dripping down our chins, the skin caught in our teeth almost as much as Mother’s failed attempts at maintaining our cleanliness. Those days were gloriously uncomplicated and simple, easy for my small heart to comprehend and bursting with life.

I do not believe Marcus was able to scheme then and he felt very much like an innocent child. In fact, as I recalled that small moment, I also remember how I swore to protect his gentle smile, teeth stained red with juice and his eyes sparkling in the light, to make sure I kept this moment dear to my heart, precious and sacred.

It feels like everything is just crumbling apart now…

I sighed, gently replacing the poetry anthology back in the old brown rucksack. Adrianne was lying on her back, spread over the entire seat and had taken to watching the dust mites fly up lazily in the gentle sunlight. The rattling of the carriage was minimal and by the time the late afternoon had rolled by, I was lazily dozing with my feet on the cushions, sighing heavily.

“It will take around a few days more, Liz. You ought to get used to it.”

“I know,” I sighed, “I just cannot help but wonder…”

She sat up, replying, “Wonder what?”

“Do you think we were actually given an official Order? Or could it all be a trick?”

“I doubt the Emperor of all people would make mistakes. He dare not even breathe sometimes, lest the counsellors berate him for it.”

She did have a point; at that stage, there was no way Emperor Sekhar would be able to send out a single document to the wrong person, much less an Archaic Order.

“Besides, it seems to me as if he is looking to unite the children of the three dukes more than anyone else.”

“Why would he do that? His own influence would decrease due to the power imbalance.”

“Well,” She paused, picking at a biscuit fished from her pack, “I would imagine that the three most influential dukes of Hestion, Devienne and Triyaer uniting would result in an equal share of business and capital, military support and commercial amongst them. By doing so, the factions under the respective dukes would be forced into maintaining neutral or amicable relations with other factions and the Emperor’s reputation benefits from the unity within the nobility.”

It… makes sense, in a strange way. The fact that the three dukes have daughters as their representatives for this Order would imply that Lord Sekhar is seeking alliance within the nobility, but it is not guaranteed that his tactic will work. It is far more likely to backfire with a revolution instead… What is he thinking?

I should have been more attentive in that moment, for though the main route to Triyaer was blocked, so too was the direct route to Cheverton where we were to stay at the inn. Our journey would be pushed back by another day in order to allow the ground to dry. By then, it was already nearing sundown and with the darkness drawing near, even the coachman, Yore was his name, was hesitant to continue onwards, hence we stopped to make camp for the night.

Yore got down from the coachseat, opening our door.

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“Forgive me, my ladies; we must make camp here tonight, for the main road is blocked by mud. We will be delayed by two days or so if we are to take the side route.”

“So,” I began, “what are we to do then?”

“If we all pitch tents and gather firewood, my lady, it is possible to set up before nightfall.”

I sighed, putting a hand to my forehead, “Very well. Let’s see how we’ll fare.”

Adrianne and I hopped off the carriage, releasing the horse to graze and began to set up the camp. It was at that moment I realised the nature of my existence; I was completely, utterly and infallibly inept at doing anything other than gardening.

Adrianne shook her head at me, scoffing, while asking me to collect anything useful as they went to work, putting up the tents and setting out bedding from the carriage storage. As I picked up twigs, sticks, leaves and tinder, I wondered of my predicament, cringing as the rough bark pierced hairlike splinters into my delicate skin.

The bushes quivered as the wind picked up and soon, it had become twilight. The silhouettes of the trees reminded me of those at home, however these were more menacing, unhinged and wilder than John’s perfectly kept bushes. I had noticed, for the first time, that many of the plants in that area were quite recognisable to me and I was quite happy to pick a few of the edible herbs that grew.

Peppermint, sage, rosemary, stinging nettle, elderberry, gooseberry and even wild thyme? These will do nicely; I am fairly certain John sends these to the kitchens every so often.

As I wandered the forest, picking at the drier vegetation surrounding me, the poem whispered at the corner of my mind; the leaves, shaking in the wind, seemed to dip and sway with every gust, appearing to me as if unseen waves had rolled over the foliage. It was a seemingly small thing, but I believe I stood there for several moments, simply watching the spectacle unfold before me.

I saw the sea in the trees…

It was a stunning sight, listening to waves of rustling leaves as the wind billowed above my head, but before long I was unfortunately forced to return, for the night had just begun to stretch and sweep its dark fingers across the sky. By that time, I had already gathered quite a pile in my arms and was heaving, with my first sweat dripping from my shoulders, soaking my sleeves and a heavy ache in my hands drove me back to the others.

Returning to the camp, I was content with the sights I had seen. The soft moss and lichens coated my feet, bringing more spring to my step than I had expected and in the distance, I could see the camp already underway in the faded light. By now the sun had long since left the sky, but it was still, just barely, visible and what I was met with at the camp gave me a moment’s reprieve from the troubling day; Adrianne was having trouble, sweating and huffing as she set down a bundle of sticks as Yore and I laughed at her struggles.

“Yore, how are we to dry these? The ground is wet and the wood must be dry for fires to start.” Adrianne brushed sweat from her forehead, standing over a small pile of damp wood; I know I saw dark wet splotches displayed on her baggy brown pants from where she had dried her hands, but to this day, she still denies it constantly. I smiled, knowing she felt outdone by my pile of firewood, judging from her furrowed brow.

He smiled, pointing near the base of a trunk, “My lady, though sticks and twigs are able to be found throughout, it is wiser to choose those from under cover. That way, they will be dry for us.”

I placed all the twigs in the centre, separating the herbs from them and setting them on a clean cloth. He pulled a flint out from under the coachman’s chair and soon enough, we were sitting in front of a warm fire as we ate buttered bread with olives and strips of roast chicken and the berries I had foraged. Yore quickly retreated to the coach, a curious little piece of paper jutting out of his pocket, and allowed us privacy. Finally, Adri and I laid down in our sleeping bags just outside the tents.

We both gazed up at the sky as we drew in a hushed breath. The stars were stunningly beautiful that night, bright and sparkling in the distance and absolutely serene in their heavenly light. It was as if the heavens were staring down from above, reaching their flimmering fingers to grace our eyes with a divine beauty. I closed my eyes, holding back those tears of pure bliss.

The macrocosm of the universe had left me stunned, yet at the same time, I remember feeling uneasy. It was a bad feeling and I could not help the slow burn of apprehension that had settled in my stomach.

Eliza…

I opened my eyes, glancing at Adrianne. She had not said anything, preoccupied with the painting above us. I looked back up, confused. Yore did not call me either, but I was uncertain.

Eliza…

The voice called again.

Wake up…

I got up suddenly, glancing around, perplexed. It was as if someone had called my name audibly, but I saw no one around.

Strange…

I stared back up at the stars, bathing in the moonlight and the fire in equal measure.

“Hey Liz…”

I turned back to her, lying down again, “Yeah?”

“I was thinking…”

“Oh, that’s no good. What has our dear Adri got on her mind?”

“Oh, look there!” She pointed up with a glimmer in her eye.

Above our heads, travelling in those distant seas of inky black, a small streak of light flew past, a flash of white peeking through in stark contrast before fading away just as quickly.

The fresh scents of rain and earth, of decaying leaves and fresh herbs, the sweetness of fruit and the sourness of the roots had all merged to form an incoherent sea of smells over my face and beneath my body. I was immersed in a world unfamiliar to me, lying there beneath the stars, surrounded by leaves and foliage and everything that had been wild had been engraved into my mind in that instant. It was stunning, refreshing and beautiful in a way that the perfectly manicured gardens and paths at home could never dream to replicate.

I held my breath, in awe, watching that star, “Oh wow…”

“Liz, we’ve never seen shooting stars back home,” She turned to face me, a smile playing on her lips, “should… should we make a wish?”

I grinned back, turning to face the cosmos above us, “Of course.”

“Heavens above, I wish for unlimited cake when we get back!”

I laughed. Of course she would be inclined to obey her sweet tooth; she had long been addicted to any sugary sweet, whether it be dango or candied apples or even sourfruit, however I was not of the same disposition. I took my time, savouring each and every idea in my mind of all the things I could wish for, every possibility and option that I could be granted.

It was quite silly, believing in such a strange little superstition, but in my heart, at that moment, I knew what I wanted the most. It would be enough for me if the heavens had heard that small prayer and I was content to speak it into the solemn quietness.

“Oberon above, I wish we arrive safely. I wish that we fulfil the Order perfectly and are able to return back home and I wish for my family’s safety.”

A comfort spread from beneath my breast to the corners of my skin, its gentle warmth nestling itself into my very bones. At that moment, I felt fully, completely content, but the morning was not as kind.

It appeared the heavens had not heard my prayer that night, for although Marcus did not employ another scheme in the manor, he had very clearly had a hand out here. I was left groggy and full of ire in the morning, with Adrianne not faring any better. I should have questioned Yore on what that paper in his pocket had detailed, but it was of no concern now.

I realised quickly that Yore had been bought off, because once the sun and the chirps of twitter birds had woken us from our sleep, both he and the carriage were gone. All that remained were our hefty rucksacks, tossed onto the ground.