I leaned back on my stool as I pondered the news. King Garrett couldn’t have known that I was missing so soon— it was only yesterday morning that my absence would have been noticed. He must have been planning his early arrival before he sent the assassin after me. My stomach lurched at the thought of him scheduling my death.
The conversations fluttered back to imaginative stories of the princess running away with a beloved servant or guard. Well, they were right about me running away with a guard, but it was hardly romantic. As the chatter continued, I returned to my locker to retrieve my cloak. Using the distracting conversation to my advantage, I slid the jewelry from the interior pocket into the folds of a spare apron. At least I wouldn’t be jingling with priceless gems as I rode around town. I had just shut my locker when Hazel arose from her stool.
“Alright!” She slurped down the rest of her tea and slammed the mug onto the stool, “You ready to hit the road, Annie?”
I spun around, throwing the cloak over my shoulders. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” My words came out partly as a yawn, and Susan yawned back sympathetically.
“Great! Then let’s hit the road!” Hazel tossed on her cloak and led me out the door with a quick wave goodbye to the other ladies.
Before attending to the deliveries, we made a quick stop at the local stable where we picked up Mr. Dwarfer’s dusty gray mare, Dottie. The old girl was sweet-tempered and had no problem allowing me to lead her across the road toward the mill shed. We hooked her up to the rickety laundry cart, then climbed into the narrow bench in front. We had to squeeze together to fit on the short bench, but we were both petite enough that it wasn’t too much trouble.
I took the opportunity to gain my bearings on our location as we rode through town. Through the clear morning sky, I was able to make out the outline of the castle walls to the east. They weren’t as close as I would have hoped, but at least I knew the direction of home if I ever got brave enough to return. Although it would be the most obvious choice for Princess Arabella to flee to the castle for help, so I could be certain that my hunter would be awaiting me in that direction. I pulled my hood down a little lower at the reminder of my pursuer. Hopefully no one would care to remember the face of a lowly laundry girl- although my face had never failed to attract attention before, especially when there was a man involved. I sunk lower into the bench at the thought. We continued on through town, stopping only a few times to leave bundles of clean laundry at the doors of neatly maintained homes. We had only gone through about half of the bags when Hazel directed Dottie down a narrow, wooded path leading outbound of town.
“Where are we going?” I inquired nervously. We both began to bounce uncomfortably on the bench as the road grew uneven.
“To the outpost, of course,” Hazel informed as if the answer was most obvious. “The rest of the loads belong to them anyway so this will be our last stop.” I looked behind at the large quantity of remaining bundles. It wasn’t even midday yet, and we were nearly completed with our entire task.
“That was a quicker trip than I had imagined,” I replied. “Why did we have to leave so early if it was only going to take us a few hours to accomplish the deliveries?” I fought a yawn as I thought back to the alluring idea of sleeping in longer.
“That’s because the outpost deliveries always take the longest.” She gripped the reigns tightly as we bounced over a significant hole in the path. “The captain is very social. He likes to spend a large chunk of time chatting with anyone who comes by their encampment, so that’s why we have to get the other deliveries out early. If we went to the outpost first, the captain might make us run late for our other clients, and Mr. Dwarfer hates receiving complaints.”
I nodded in understanding. I wonder what kind of captain would be so desperate for socialization that he would wish to entertain mill maids. Images of a stout, seasoned war hero who enjoyed passing the time by telling old war stories filled my head. Perhaps he was a typical pompous windbag who took advantage of any ear that would listen to tales of the glory days. I let my imagination wander freely as we pulled down a pebbly road that opened into a large clearing.
“You’ll like Captain Peter,” she stated with a cheeky smile as we rode up into an expansive camp site. A tall wooden watchtower stood in the midst of the clearing with a proud Isallan flag raised high. Dozens of identical tents sat beneath the tower, all spaced apart in perfect lines. There were soldiers everywhere. Some were running laps under the orders of lieutenants, while others relaxed in huddles around tents and meals. I kept my head low as numerous eyes turned toward our arrival. Hazel smiled and waved, soaking up the attention from the young men, but I wasn’t ready to risk my face being on display. At the forefront of it all was a much grander tent with three distinct peaks held up by support poles, each bearing a smaller flag at the tip. We rolled up to the front of the large set-up and pulled to a stop. I followed Hazel’s lead as she approached the entrance and stuck her head inside without even bothering to announce her presence first.
“Helloooo, are you here, Peter?” Her informality made me cringe. I wondered if the captain would feel inclined to issue a punishment on the poor girl for neglecting the use of proper manners. Before I could make any attempt to stop the hyperactive girl from dishonoring the gentlemen any further, a tall young man walked out through a fabric into the main room of the tent. My heart skipped a beat as my eyes landed on his.
Oh goodness, he was handsome. Tussled dark-brown hair and soft green eyes hid underneath his military cap. He was built broadly but was clearly in excellent shape with defined muscles creasing his uniform. He towered over Hazel and me, and his kind expression bore chiseled features I imagined not even the prince of Drancos could equate. At further glance, I noticed the adornments on his uniform that marked his rank of captain.Thiswas Captain Peter? I shut my mouth once I realized it was standing agape and caught a smug side glance from Hazel. Why didn’t she warn me that he was so good-looking!
“Good morning, Hazel dear.” The captain’s voice was deep and smooth. He strode out to greet us with a polite bow that I would have never anticipated from a man of his rank.Well, Princess Arabella would have expected it, but never Annie.“I do hope your journey wasn’t too unpleasant. The valley has been terribly cold this winter, and I would hate to see you ladies go through the strain of bearing it just to service us.” His words dripped with chivalry.
“Oh Peter, you know we’re just fine.” Hazel giggled. “This is our job after all, but we do appreciate the courtesy. The other ladies are always pleased to hear that you care about their well-being.” She grinned like a giddy schoolgirl as she spoke. Perhaps this was the true reason why she liked to have plenty of time to visit the outpost.
“Nevertheless, we cannot thank you enough for the trouble you ladies go through to assist my men.” He smiled gratefully, flashing a row of perfect teeth. I held my ground to prevent a swoon. There had been plenty of attractive men who graced my presence before, so what about this man drew my attention so strongly? “I do beg your pardon miss, but I don’t believe we have been properly introduced.”
I jumped slightly when I realized the question was directed at me. Hazel looked to me expectantly as I tried to regain my composure.
“Oh, my apologies, captain. My name is Annie,” I gave a graceful curtsy before remembering that Annie shouldn’t be so practiced at such a skill. Despite giving an intentional wobble as I stood, he still eyed me a little more intensely. I shied away from his gaze, which must have alerted him that I was uncomfortable because he quickly spoke up.
“I am Captain Peter Williamson, but please just call me Peter, I prefer informality where I can afford it.” He removed his hat to give a second bow, but something caught my eye that triggered my full attention. In the midst of his shaggy brown hair, there was an undeniable streak of iridescent silver. The shimmering section of hair caught the light from the oil lamps in the room before it was quickly hidden under the captain’s cap.
“You’re a mage!” I blurted out before I could filter them. My hands clasped over my mouth in embarrassment of my outburst. Mages were not completely unheard of in Isalla, but they were rare. Only about ten percent of the population still bore the gift to carry magic, so meeting one was often a surprising experience. I blushed in shame, but Peter only laughed warmly in response to my reaction.
“I am indeed.” He spoke kindly to ease my embarrassment. “Specifically, I am a caster. My abilities allow me to pass my magic through other individuals to heal ailments or injuries.” My eyes grew wide in fascination, and he smiled joyfully at my childlike interest.
There were three types of magic users known to the realms, enchanters, casters, and sorcerers. Magic had always been known as a form of energy that may only be passed through compatible source, and the compatibility of those sources depended on the user’s magic.
Enchanters could only pass their magic through non living-objects. They were the most plentiful of the remaining mages and often were made of alchemists who brewed and sold simple potions. A caster’s magic was the opposite. They could only pass power through living beings, such as plants, animals, or people. They were far rarer than enchanters and could vary greatly in their specific gifts. Lastly, there were sorcerers, of which haven’t been seen since the downfall of the Sybettal kingdom. History claimed that their magic could only be passed through themselves and were used to amplify their own abilities based on their gifts. No matter what power they wielded, every individual who possessed magic was born with some amount of silver hair. It wasn’t the type of silver that came from age, more like the glittering metal with the same iridescent shine of a pearl. Some believed that the amount of silver represented the amount of power the mage possessed. I had met an enchanter before. He was the son of a noble who tried to woo me with some simple enchantments. His skills were interesting, but the boy himself was such a bore that I didn’t allow him around me for long.
“That’s rather incredible,” I told Peter astonished. “Please forgive my rudeness earlier. It has just been so long since I had last met someone who could wield magic. I find such abilities compelling, and my excitement got ahead of me.” I lowered my gaze in apology, but he only continued to grin brightly.
“No need for apology, miss, I take great pride in my gifts and am glad to speak of them to anyone willing to listen.” He moved toward the fabric curtain in which he emerged from earlier. “Speaking of which, would you two ladies care to join me for lunch while my men prepare their garments for you? Perhaps we could speak more of magic or any other topics that interest you. I will be certain to ensure my men unload and reload your cart so that you may relax while we dine.”
Hazel’s expression livened at the offer. “We would love to! Wouldn’t we, Annie?” She looked to me excitedly and I smiled back to her.
“That would be lovely, Peter, thank you,” I said sincerely. Hazel removed her cloak upon the invite and Peter politely took it from her as a proper host. Following her lead, I pulled down my hood and slipped off the stained garment, but when I looked up, the captain stood frozen. His gaze held to mine as a look of bewilderment crept across his face. Anxiety raced through me as I wondered if he had recognized me. I was certain I had never met him before, but perhaps he had seen me from a distance at another royal gathering.
I shrank back, hoping my haggard appearance would be enough of a disguise to keep me safe from suspicion. The royal army might be capable of keeping me safe from a single hunter, but they wouldn’t be discreet. If the kingdom of Drancos got word that I was still alive, who knows what other methods they would invoke against me? Right now, my best chance at survival lay in the ego of a fake knight who thought he could outwit me.