The main village baker, Mrs. Holina, and Naomie, rushed forward to hand us each a package.
“To remind you of home,” Naomie whispered.
Mrs. Holina shoved two steamy hot loaves of rosemary bread at us and my mouth instantly salivated. Even though I knew we’d be back in a moon’s time, maybe two, I still felt sad to leave this place… it felt like goodbye.
“Thank you.” We hugged them and then stepped into the carriage. I’d only ridden in one once, on my trip to Jade City, but that was more of a covered cart than a regal carriage. This was black lacquered outside with inlays of jade and gold, and the inside was just as nice. Green crushed velvet lined the walls, and the seats were plush and comfortable. There was a small basket of fresh fruit and a canteen of water on each seat. Folded next to all of that was an accordion hand fan made with purple silk to stave off the heat.
“Oh, I could get used to this.” Kendal grabbed a passion berry and popped it into her mouth.
I smiled and cradled the package Naomie had given me. It was heavy in my hands and I peeled back the paper, letting a little gasp of surprise escape my throat.
An entire bottle of sandalwood oil. That was a very kind and generous gift. Kendal had one too, and was holding hers with unshed tears in her eyes.
“I’m going to miss home,” Kendal shared, and I nodded.
“We’ll be back soon enough,” I said as the cart jerked forward and the horses began our journey.
Kendal frowned. “Hopefully not. Hopefully, the king chooses me and I never come back.”
Oh.
I guessed that’s what I should be feeling too, but I wasn’t. I was hoping he chose the girl from Grim Hollow, or Kendal, so I could just come back here and get on with my life.
We stopped at Gypsy Rock for the night. The day of travel had been long and my butt was numb. It was going to be a three-day journey, and Gypsy Rock was nicer to stay at than the sand dunes, so I wasn’t going to complain.
“Ladies, I’ve booked us a shared room at the tavern,” Regina said. “I hope you don’t mind, but until we get to Jade City it’s not safe for you to sleep without a guard in the room.”
Kendal and I nodded. We could sleep in a barn or inside the carriage, and often did when traveling, so it didn’t matter to us.
As we stepped up to the tavern doorway, I looked over my shoulder to watch the rest of the Drayken stow their horses in the barn and talk to the stable maid. The king wore his hood high up over his head, obscuring his identity. Kendal had no clue the king rode with us, and I wasn’t going to say anything about it. He was keeping his identity secret for a reason, and I didn’t want to put him in danger by mentioning it. He might have been a jerk earlier by pulling his blade on me, but I didn’t want him dead. If he rode with a hidden identity, it was for a reason.
“Come on. Dinner awaits,” Regina said, and I snapped back to attention, giving her an apologetic smile.
We stepped inside the noisy tavern and I was assaulted with the savory smell of stew. My mouth watered and I prayed that we were staying for dinner. I’d hauled that cougarin from the creek on my back, I deserved a meat stew. Kendal and I had grazed on some of the fruits and bread in the carriage, but I was famished from my week on the road and I wanted meat.
The barmaid stepped over to us with a pitcher of ale. “You’re back. Will you be havin’ the private dining hall again then, love?” she asked Regina, and she simply nodded.
They must have stopped in here on their way into Cinder Village.
All eyes slowly moved in our direction as more of our group filled the space. People quieted and whispers of king’s Royal Guard filled the room.
We stepped around the tables, following the stout barmaid back to a private room with swinging saloon doors. There was a large table that could fit at least twenty.
“Mead for the men, water for the ladies,” Regina told her, and the barmaid nodded and left.
“I like a good mead every once in a while,” I mentioned with a smile. Especially on days like this.
A few of the Royal Guard behind me chuckled and I bristled, not intending for them to hear.
Regina gave me a pointed look. “A potential queen of Embergate does not drink mead from a tavern—I can find you some wine though,” she said.
I waved her off, shaking my head. “It’s fine.” This propriety stuff was lost on me. I’d never get used to hearing “future potential queen.” I didn’t like drinking much anyway; I didn’t want to let my guard down.