My chest tightened. I had always despised people who believed others were beneath them—it was the main reason why I hated Ashbourne. No one had the right to determine another human’s worth. I wrapped my hands around my teacup, allowing the warmth to tingle my fingers as I leaned into Minerva’s story.
“Long story short, my daughter turned against me,” Minerva said with a heavy breath, another tear clustering in her shiny eyes. “She convinced the court that I was the problem and even turned my betrothed against me. It was all so awful...” A delicate tear slid down her cheek, but her composure remained strong. “I was banished for trying to do what I believed was best for my people. I was only trying to help, but no one ever listened.” She dabbed her eyes with the hem of her apron, and I felt compelled to stretch out a hand to her across the table.
“I’m so sorry, Minerva,” I said softly, giving her hand a light squeeze. “People never seem to listen to me either, so I understand how hard that can be. I don’t know much about the politics of other kingdoms, but I know things can easily be blown out of proportion. People can be very selfish when they’re only focused on their own gain.” My heart constricted as I recognized how much I could sympathize with this poor woman. I may not have had a conniving daughter, but I did have an entire kingdom rebellion that was looking to force me into a role that would only damage the kingdom. We were both only trying to do what was right...
“Thank you, dear.” Minerva sniffed. “My only regret is that I let my daughter slip away from me. If only I had spent a few more moments with her... Maybe things would have turned out different.” She retracted her hand so she could dab a few more lingering tears.
I couldn’t imagine how anyone could put their own mother through so much pain. It was sickening how selfish and deceitful people could be. “I’m sure you did everything you could,” I reassured. “At least now you have a chance to start over. Sybettal isn’t so bad once you get used to it. I’ve lived here my entire life, and your home is far more splendid than mine has ever been.”
Her eyes brightened at the sudden compliment. “Do you really like it? It took me nearly a year to get it all together. My dear neighbor, Mr. Nevio, built the entire thing. He’s a rather skilled gentleman. I’ll have to introduce you some time.”
“I would like that,” I said earnestly, then took a tentative sip of my tea and relished in its calming warmth before taking a second gulp. Minerva didn’t really seem like the type to poison a drink—she was far too honest to do something so sinister.
The tea was smooth and floral, and instantly brightened my senses. Most teas in Sybettal were root-based herbal teas or crafted from plants that could survive our harsh climates. It was rare that any flower teas made it across our border. Minerva must have brought this blend from her home country. How kind of her to share it with a waterlogged stranger.
We conversed for a few more hours as the storm’s intensity shifted outside the sturdy stone walls. As we watched the rain, Minerva shared vibrant tales of her luxurious lifestyle in the kingdom of Isalla. She never fully disclosed her official title, but it was obvious her family was lavishly wealthy and held high influence. Her stories reminded me of the memories Mother would share about when she worked in the palace. The palace lifestyle had always fascinated me, so I found myself enraptured by Minerva’s stories. I had never been one to thirst for riches, but there was something enchanting or whimsical about the idea of being surrounded by such finery.
After a full evening of storytelling, we prepared a light dinner of a broth soup and bread. Minerva confessed to not being the most adept cook after living off a golden spoon for so long, so I offered my help whenever I could. The meal was light but comforting after such an exhausting day. The rain had lessened by the time dinner was concluded, but Minerva insisted that I use her guest room for the night. It was hard to refuse the offer of a warm bed, so I accepted it gratefully.
The bonus room was barely big enough for a narrow bed pallet and a lone stool, but it felt like a room fit for a princess, well... a fake princess, at least. The soft bed hugged my petite frame so delicately, I was almost afraid to move. It was far more comfortable than the cot I was given in the musty rebel’s cave, but I still found myself missing the cradling sensation that came from being swayed in my hammock. The fresh scent of the clean linens brushed through me as I nestled into the cushiony pillow.
My first night’s rest at Minerva’s cottage was blissful, and so was my second... and my third. Before I had known it, a week had flown by where I had done nothing more than hide from the rain with the charming Miss Minerva. In the back of mind, I knew I should have been putting more effort into getting home to Mother, but each morning when I woke up to more rain, I was reminded that the river would still be uncrossable, so I waited.
On the seventh morning of my stay, my eyes peeled open to the tiniest sliver of sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. Elation poured through my veins as I darted out of bed and clattered into the main room. Minerva jumped from a startle as I threw the door open, nearly spilling the kettle of tea in her hands.
“Goodness, dear!” She inhaled sharply. “You certainly have a spring in your step this morning.”
I strode a little more cautiously over to the table, taking my regular seat with a broad smile. “The weather seems to be lightening up.” I beamed, holding out my teacup for a fill. “I’m hoping that means the river will have a chance to drain. If the rain holds off long enough, I might have an opportunity to return home!”
Minerva paused mid-pour, her kettle still hovering above my cup. “Nixie, dear...” she set the kettle down, “the river likely won’t drop in elevation until the end of the season. Even if the rains lighten, I doubt there will be enough of a break for the water to drain sufficiently.”
Her eyes softened as the disappointment seeped into my expression. “Oh, I suppose you’re right.” I sighed.
“But don’t worry, dear,” she added cheerfully, “you can stay with me for as long as it takes. Oh! And since the weather has improved, why don’t you join me to visit Mr. Nevio today? I’m sure he’s been lonely since the seasons changed.” She completed pouring the tea, then settled into the chair across from me.
“That would be great.” I forced a soft smile, then took a long sip of my tea, shielding my eyes from hers for as long as I could in an attempt to mask my sorrow. Minerva had become a wonderful companion, but I was beginning to ache for my mother. It had been so long since my disappearance and I was beginning to fear that she wouldn’t be able to get by so easily without me. She relied on my thieving for most of our supplies, and my last acquirement would have had to run dry by now. That, and I missed her dearly. Each night I wondered if she was still looking for me or if she had been forced to hold off her search until the rain ceased. It was awful to be left without answers.
“Wonderful!” Minerva clapped her hands together with a bright smile. “I’ll prepare some biscuits to take over to him. Would you be a dear and collect some firewood for me? I’m sure most of the wood is still damp, but we can bring some in to dry. My stash is beginning to dwindle far quicker than I had imagined. I’m not a very well-practiced Sybettian, I’m afraid.” Her eyes drifted to the crackling fire—the meager log had already split down the middle with a satisfying snap.
“Of course, I would be happy to help.” I quickly guzzled down my last sip of tea, then turned back to my room to collect my boots. “If I head out now, I should be back in time to help make the biscuits,” I called from the bedroom. If I was honest, I was glad to have an excuse to step away. It was rather disheartening to be reminded of how far I was from returning home, and I didn’t want Minerva to see me so disappointed. She had been far too kind to me for me to display anything other than gratitude. Getting outside for a bit would help me get ahold of my emotions before meeting her neighbor.
After my boots were securely fastened, I tossed on my borrowed cloak and unlatched the door.
“Don’t stray too far, dear.” Minerva’s melodic voice carried through the threshold. “Not all the neighbors are as kind as Mr. Nevio, so try to keep your distance.”
I poked my head back through the door, offering a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.” I waved sweetly, then slowly closed the door behind me.
The air was thick with humidity, but it tasted sweet after the fresh rain. I began to move toward the nearest grove of trees where Minerva had initially found me. The ground was soft and caused my boots to stick with each step. Thick puddles of mud blocked the most direct route to the trees, so I had to move closer to the adjacent hill until the elevation rose enough that the water no longer remained stagnant. Chunky rock jutted out from the hill, providing me with solid stepping stones to move across. I nearly slipped on the wet stones on some of my braver leaps, but overall, my light body and practiced agility prevented me from losing my footing.
It had been so long since my last robbery so I was glad to have an opportunity to practice my skills. I had never disclosed to Minerva about my tendency to thieve, since I didn’t want to risk her worrying that I would steal from her, or worse, throw me out. Since she didn’t know about my hobby, I didn’t have any way to quietly hone my skills. If only I hadn’t lost my dagger... it would be easy to practice a few basic moves with it before bed each night. It had been so unsettling to live without the blade attached to my hip. For years it had been a part of my daily routine, and now it was lost forever, likely buried at the bottom of the river along with...
Before my grim thoughts could spiral any further, the distinct scent of smoke drifted to my senses. I paused my movements, balancing smoothly on a thick shard of stone. When I focused my eyes, I was able to see the dark wafts of smoke.It’s too thick to be from Minerva’s house, so perhaps it’s coming from one of her neighbors she had warned me about?
Out of sheer curiosity, I allowed my gaze to follow the smoke’s trail. When I located the source of the tainted air, I realized it wasn’t coming from a house at all.It’s coming from the base of the mountain, just like when I first arrived.I briefly recalled the glowing orange twinkle I had seen through storm. It had seemed almost like a beacon when I first laid eyes on it, but fortunately, Minerva found me so I never had to seek out the fire’s owner. However, now that I was safe, I couldn’t help but feel my curiosity rekindle.I wonder who is camping out at the base of the mountain?
I suppose there was no harm in looking for firewood around that area... If the owner of that fire had managed to keep it burning for this long, then there certainly had to be some good wood around.
With my new logic acquired, I followed the smoke’s lazy trail. Minerva had warned me that some of her neighbors were less than reputable, so I made certain to keep a healthy distance from the fire’s base, sticking close to the trees whenever I could. As I meandered closer, I collected various twigs and branches that looked thin enough to dry out for a fire. The smell of smoke grew denser as I smoothly slipped between the trees—another excellent way for me to put my stealth into practice. As I calmly slid around another narrow birch trunk, the light of the fire finally came into view. With careful ease, I peered around the tree at a shrunken height and took in a full view of the surrounding campsite.