The men at the gate recognized our procession right away, herding us ahead of the line of people waiting to get into the city. Matheas smiled tightly, not happy at all, but he accepted the preferential treatment.

Open stares followed me but here no one dared insinuate anything since I was with the prince. The guard in charge of the gate groveled and brown-nosed before finally letting us enter.

The city opened out into a small courtyard with people getting ready to leave or just entering and getting their bearings. And of course, the swindlers ready to take advantage of the newcomers.

Past the courtyard lay a long, wide road ending in a towering, multi-layered building with spires and towers and too many angles for me to know where to look.

“That’s the castle,” Matheas said beside me, hands on hips, grinning, like he built it himself. I made no comment.

The central street was wide enough for two men on horseback to walk side by side. Both sides of the road were lined with shops in orderly fashion. Close to the gate, they were little more than wood shacks with just as many street vendors as legitimate shops. Small alleys between every four or five shops led into darkness even the afternoon light couldn’t filter.

As we neared the castle, the shops changed from shack to solid wood construction to having been painted and embellished. Near the castle the signs switched from symbolic representation of what the shops offered to written signs putting a clear divide between its patrons and the illiterate commonfolk.

The writing was in the local dialect so I couldn’t read any of it either.

Matheas caught me staring, “Most will have their reading materials in Solanian and the common tongue, don’t worry.”

“You assume I can read, why?” I couldn’t help ask.

The question seemed to catch him off guard, “Can’t you?”

I nodded. Any further discussion would veer into the theological. Memories of heated discussions with Priestesses I called friends came to mind. Best not to make any more connections with the prince. Tomorrow I could be banished again. I couldn’t help the self-deprecating smile.

An armor display caught my eye. I stared at the shop window. Daggers of all lengths lay carefully mounted on a wooden display.

“Are you interested in weapons?” Matheas looked amused. “Not a bad idea if you plan to be on your own.”

Would he understand if I said a part of my sentence was that I wasn’t allowed to wield a weapon? A Priestess of Mauta with a weapon was an executioner.

I shook my head. No one here would understand; no more than they understood my dress.

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Still the display was interesting. I wondered if I would find it again on my own.

The castle gates loomed almost as tall as the city walls, though they appeared to be gilded metal.

The guard did his due diligence of checking Matheas’s identity before calling to open the gate.

I turned to Matheas. “Thank you for the escort and the company.” And though he wouldn’t understand I swept my hands in opposing circles, bringing them to form an ‘X’ in front of my chest and bowing my head.

After a second I looked up to avid stares. I sighed, shouldered my pack and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Matheas called, “Robert, go with her.”

I hoped he had forgotten.

Robert reached for my arm that moved before he got to it. His confusion only lasted a second, “You’re going the wrong way.”

“Oh,” was all I said before turning to follow Robert.

The walk was long—and silent. I should have been ecstatic but after days of Matheas’s near constant questions and the chatter of the men, silence felt awkward.

“Is your sister like you?” I finally asked.

He tilted his head. “Depends how you mean. She is sensible and practical, probably why her dresses have never been popular with high society.”

That sentence gave me a glimmer of hope. I had no imagination to change those chains of a dress into something I could dance in but if a sensible person had imagination then perhaps they could.

We walked around the castle walls until we came to a garden. I blinked in surprise. Hedges cut into animal statues; flowers in all colors, planted in intricate patterns; and here and there actual stone statues of men and women littered the space. Several paths wound through this artificial nature. Robert picked one confidently and made his way through and out of a superficial gate that only reached my waist.

This exit opened into a courtyard with a lavish fountain at the center. The water poured out of the palms of a statue of a man with hands outstretched and head tilted back like he was basking in the sunlight. The statue itself was masterfully crafted from marble. I could see his features even from where I stood.

“I suppose none of this is like your home,” Robert said.

“No, it is not.” But with the words came a realization I should have had weeks ago. I don’t have a home anymore.

“May I ask another favor?” I cleared my throat knowing I was in no position to ask anything. “Can you recommend an inn both cheap and where they will not comment on my dress?”

Robert almost smiled opening his mouth. Something in my expression must have made him change his mind as the smile slipped and he said, “I can make arrangements for you. When you’re done with my sister, tell her to give you directions to The Golden Pig.”

We crossed the courtyard to a sliver of a building with a single window display of a pale pink gown. Still this building not only had a sturdy construction but like the rest of the square, it was painted stark white with a blue roof. Embellishments included carvings on and around the door, the window shutters and the edge of the roof.

Robert didn’t hesitate to open the door.

“Welcome,” a woman’s voice called immediately.

There was no one in the shop. I glanced around, curious despite myself, how bad could her dresses be?

A pretty, brunette woman ran out of the room closed off by a curtain. Petite and energetic, she wore a wide smile that fell as soon as she saw Robert. “Oh, it’s you.”

“That’s how you welcome your brother home?”

But her eyes already landed on me. Eyes wide, there was no hesitation as she ran towards me. I hesitated to dance away, not wanting to scare someone I was asking for help.

She threw my cloak open and stared, “By the Fathers, this is amazing.”

I started at the excitement in her tone. Robert was no less shocked. “Do you recognize her attire?”

“The Priestesshood of Roki!” Her smile exploded.

I jumped away, my brain not comprehending. How is it that none of the rulers of this land knew of my order but a dressmaker knew?

“How?” Robert and I spoke at the same time.