by Osku Alanen
Alessia nodded, biting the inner wall of her mouth to prevent the memory from rushing back. She had no wish to remember the same… pain she had felt alone in her chamber, with no one to console her. She had never felt so alone as she had that night; it was something she wanted to forget.
“Have they found the assassin?” the man asked softly.
“No… I mean yes. It is a long story,” Alessia sighed, her failure still tasting bitter. She didn’t want to share it with her old mentor and teacher, but it seemed like she had no choice. His mind, even if it was ravaged by the inevitability of age, was still one of the brightest in the kingdom.
Meridian frowned, adjusting the thick frames that had fallen down his large, crooked nose with his index finger. “Tell me everything.”
Alessia reported to his old tutor every single detail she could think of that night. She told him everything: her studies of the human body, and the decoy she had used; how her father had asked her to interrogate the assassin; how she had failed and let the assassin escape into the night. She even told him the tale of how the man had, impossibly, transformed from his father into a stranger. The old man listed to her words deep in thought. Only the mention of the assassin’s abilities made his eyes widen in surprise. She felt guilty neglecting to tell him of her confinement to the family mansion, or the fact that she had escaped, but she didn’t want to involve the old man.
“Alessia, are you sure it was not a trick of some kind?”
“No, old tutor,” Alessia shook her head. “I know what I saw. Sorcery was involved—I’m convinced of it.”
“Never let yourself be convinced of a conclusion this major without first exhausting every other possibility. You should know this, Alessia, for it was I who taught it to you. Still… what you’re describing is incredible. And if it proves to be accurate, then the magi—or at least one of them—has joined whoever this assassin serves. And if the assassin belongs to the Nubian Empire, then I’m afraid our troubles are only just beginning.”
“Who else could it be? We have waged war against the Empire for decades; they are our sole enemy. All the other nations are content with our trade agreements; they would never risk a war. I cannot see a reason why the Galadians, hiding behind that impenetrable wall of theirs, would bother with us; they have always been recluses. Anra’diel lies behind the Endless Plains—too far from us. As far as I know, they have never invaded the lands of other nations, and I doubt they would start now, unprovoked. Or, by the gods, the Northmen? They have no king. No large cities. They seem content with the frozen lands of theirs, separated from us by the Northern Sea.”
“Who else, indeed,” Doctor Mer muttered to himself, deep in thought. He sat there, frowning, for quite some time. It was one of his peculiarities. He would often go into a trance of sorts, and rousing him from that stat had always proved challenging. It was his way of putting pieces back together in his mind’s eye. When the old mentor came to his senses, he looked at Alessia with tired eyes. “I am sorry, Alessia. I’m afraid I have no answers for you. Still, what you have told me is too important to ignore, so I will help you. You have my word.”
“Thank you,” Alessia whispered. It warmed her heart to hear that someone—and a man she greatly admired, at that—believed her. Alessia felt a burden lift in her heart; no one can live their lives completely alone, no matter how smart or capable they consider themselves to be. It only leads to bitterness.
“Thank you, Alessia. You have given me much to ponder.”
“It was a pleasure to see you again, old teacher.” Alessia kissed the old man on both cheeks gently and watched fondly as the man hobbled down the central staircase, gripping the handrail tightly, wincing with pain after each step. He was growing old, and Alessia feared he didn’t have that long left with him, for she knew of no men older than his teacher.
Alessia resumed her investigation for quite some time still, but eventually, even she had to admit that it was time to quit for the day. She forced herself to close the latest book she had picked from the shelf titled “Rise of the Nubian Empire”. In another time, she might’ve been fascinated by the aspect of why their founders had chosen to build a city into the middle of a desert, but today she wanted real answers.
“By the gods, nothing?” Alessia groaned. She leaned her tired forehead on her palms, feeling her oily, blonde hair between her fingertips. What I wouldn’t give for a proper bath.
Merely a day into her escape, and she already missed the comforts of her family mansion. She really was spoiled, wasn’t she? The thought made her think of her father. No doubt the castle was in an uproar and her father furious. She hoped the note she had left on her bed might calm him down; thankfully, she was wise enough to leave a note. Otherwise he might think his last heir was kidnapped—or worse. He might not have been the best father to her, but he had never raised a hand against her. Then again, he never did care that much about her, did he? His male heirs were always a priority to him. Especially since she turned down suitor after suit, refusing to be used as a pawn for the royal game of families. She would find her own destiny—with her own merits.
The grumbling of her stomach reminded her of her hunger. She forced herself up walked out the library, avoiding the few scholars she passed by. Living alone with no one to support her was a big change, wasn’t it? Whenever she was hungry, she used to simply snap her fingers, and food from the kitchen would come—no matter the time of the day. Now, she had no choice but to find a tavern that wouldn’t ask too many questions, and hope that their food would sate her hunger.
***
How can it be dusk already? Alessia wondered, watching the sun set by the tall hills in the distance. The library itself was located near the northern end of the city; it hugged the tall walls that surrounded their city. These walls had never failed Eyria, and likely never would, for not many an invader was prepared for a long, gruesome siege that would be necessary to take their city. Still, Alessia was growing vary as she saw the sun set. She no longer walked the heavily guarded—and generally safe—Royal Plateau. Here, in the lower city, the men with questionable intentions surfaced in the cover of night, whenever the patrols grew scarce, and Alessia had no wish to get mugged—or worse.
I must hurry, Alessia thought to herself as she picked up the pace, avoiding back alleys like the plague. Warnings of her elder siblings surfaced back into her mind. Rewalt had personally witnessed horrors their citizens had inflicted upon each other: girls her age raped, children murdered. He never held back whenever sharing tales of these horrors with her, while little Alessia stared at her older brother with eyes brimming with tears. Siblings could be so cruel.
However, the fear quickly dissipated when she saw how marvelous the city looked at night, and the main square itself was nothing like the horror show Rewalt had described to her. She shook her head in disbelief; his brother had no doubt exaggerated his stories, and she—the foolish little girl—had believed them true. She saw no blood on the streets and heard no cries for help. Instead, she heard men and women laughed heartily and danced merrily along the street. Alessia marveled the sight; she would never dare let herself go like them. They drunk and danced and laughed, and Alessia passed by them secretly envying the freedom they had. She then remembered her task at hand, and—reluctantly—set her eyes to find a tavern for her to stay in. She passed by many but found them all too unruly to her liking.
A while later, she heard music that moved her heart—she knew this song.
Alessia forced her anxious legs to walk into a modest-looking tavern just outside the main street. The music grew louder and louder, and Alessia found herself humming to the tune of it. It was a famous ballad being recited by a bard on the stage. The crowd here watched silently, enamored by the story.
Alessia walked in, quietly watching the performance. It was a sad tale of a noble knight of the distant past— the heroics of Renelyn the Fearless. A knight who had to sacrificed everything to save a princess of a distant kingdom. He g
ave her everything: his wealth, his heart, and eventually, his life. The bard’s voice was golden; she had never heard the like. It was nothing like the performances she had heard atop the Royal Plateau. When her soup arrived, she devoured it with haste, and quickly asked for another one. And just was quickly as it had started, the performance ended, and the crowd erupted in laughter and applaud.
“Why, my lady, you are the last person I expected to find here,” a voice said from behind her, shocking Alessia back to the present.
Dreading to face the speaker, she turned slowly. And when she recognized the man standing in front of her, she could do nothing but sheepishly whisper his name. “Rodrik.”
The stable boy grinned, sitting down next to Alessia—way too close to a woman of her stature. Then again, they weren’t atop the Royal Plateau, were they?
The young man radiated enthusiasm. His brilliant blue eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight of the crowded tavern. Alessia could smell the ale in his breath, which made Alessia hesitate. She trusted him, yes, but she had always a guard or two in near vicinity. Who knows how the boy might act so far from Alessia’s home?
“Oh, please forgive me, my lady. I’m bad at this stuff; my parents would kill me if they saw me speaking to a noble lady like this,” the man laughed. “Let’s try again. May I sit here, my lady?”
“You may,” Alessia found herself saying. The boy had served her family for close to a year now, and they had grown relatively close. He had never done anything that she would consider rude. A troubling thought entered Alessia’s mind: The stable boy had seen her leave her family mansion, and Alessia’s father had no doubt questioned every member of the staff. Had Rodrik told that he had seen Alessia that day? If he had, then this was no doubt a trap. Alessia flinched. Had her freedom come to an abrupt halt? She knew she had to return home, but she didn’t want it to be this soon. She had learned nothing of the assassin so far.
As if he read her mind, Rodrik replied. “Relax, my lady. I didn’t lead your guards here. Sure, the Captain interrogated me, but I told him nothing. You’re safe.”
“Thank you,” Alessia found herself muttering.
“Frankly, I don’t understand why you left your home, but that’s your business, not mine. I suppose everyone deserves their freedom, and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ve seen how serious you’re all the time. If anyone deserves a break, it’s you, my lady.”
Alessia blushed at the man’s straightforward attitude. He always liked to tell a joke or two in her company, but this was the first time he acted this friendly to her.
“I think I could use a cold one, how about you?”
“A… cold one?” Alessia asked, confused.
Rodrik burst out laughing. “Oh, my bad. I forgot I’m not with the lads here. What I meant to say is ‘Would you like an ale, my lady?’”
Alessia felt herself blush again. She knew the boy was taunting her, and that this was nothing like the proper way a mere stable boy should address a princess, but she found herself not caring the least. This could be a valuable experience for her, too. She had never had “a cold one” as Rodrik had put it, and maybe it was high time she tried one? She had grown sick of the wine they served atop the Royal Plateau. Beer was something other ladies of noble birth would never partake in; it belonged to the men: soldiers, commoners, princes.
“You know what? I think I will have a… cold one. And some more soup—I’m famished.”
Rodrik nodded, grinning. He raised his hand, and a moment later, the barkeep walked up to their table. Rodrik whispered something in his ear and the barkeep made haste to the kitchen. Not much later, her soup arrived—along with the ale. Only after a brief moment’s hesitation, Alessia drunk her ale with careful, small sips.
If only father saw me now, Alessia thought. She showed a rare smile, which made Rodrik beam, thinking it was intended for him. A few years ago, his father would never had let Alessia stay alone in a room with a man, fearing she would fall for someone other than the suitors he had handpicked for her. And in those days, the suitors very coming from every door and window. Every nation sent their princes and dukes to meet the famous beauty that was the only daughter of the King of Eyria, thinking it would boost the worth of their families. But Alessia had been too smart—too proud—to be used as his father’s pawn. She wanted to choose her own destiny, and being an incubator for some distant lord’s progeny was not a future she wanted for herself. Sure, she wanted to settle down one day, but she was so young, still. Year after year, she turned her suitors down, no matter how good a man they were. Then came the day when the suitors no longer came; his father had given up on her. She had been happy then, but a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if she had sabotaged her own happiness just to spite her controlling father.
“Well, well. I didn’t take you for a drinker, my lady. You can hold your own—just like one of the boys.”
She looked at Rodrik’s charming face and laughed, letting out a sudden burp. When she realized what had happened, her face turned red, which made Rodrik erupt in laughter.
“That’s not very ladylike, is it?” Rodrik grinned, slamming his hand against the table in joyous laughter.
“I’m so sorry,” Alessia found herself saying, burying her head in her palms. She felt the drink affect her mind already; her mood was light and smiling came easy. It turned out the ballad by the bard was his last, and he bowed towards the audience to receive his last applauds. Then, as the bard left, so did most of the guests, until it was only Rodrik and Alessia—if you excluded the odd one or two men too drunk to stand up.
The barkeep brought them a sudden refill, and Alessia had half the mind to refuse it, but thought to herself that she deserved a break.
Then, suddenly, Rodrik leaned towards Alessia, and whispered in her ear: “I pray you can forgive my directness, my lady, but you truly are gorgeous.”
Alessia gasped aloud. “I—what?”
The barkeep brought them a second mug of ale, which Alessia took into her shaking hands. She drank it all, sip by sip, while Rodrik continued smiling, casting a glance her way every now and then. Her heart raced, and she felt her palms sweat. Never had she heard someone speak that way to her. But the drink had lessened her inhibitions, too, and the boy—the man—sitting there, staring at her eyes made her heart skip a beat.
Rodrik leaned over once more, placing his gentle hand atop Alessia’s. “Might I suggest we go somewhere more… private than this. I would hate for the wrong people to see you here,” he whispered in Alessia’s ear again.
Alessia could do nothing but nod. She took Rodrik’s hand, and allowed him to lead her on, towards a room the boy apparently stayed in. They left the main hall, climbed the stairs to the second floor, and arrived in Rodrik’s room. There was a balcony there, and Alessia walked straight to it. The evening breeze felt chilly on Alessia’s skin, but it was tolerable; the company she had and the beverages she drunk made her feel warm enough. In fact, it was rather pleasant, especially when the full moon was so clear under the starry sky.
Rodrik leaned over the rail, looking up. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It truly is,” Alessia marveled aloud. She had seen the sight many a time, but never in a company quite like this.
Rodrik turned to Alessia and placed his left hand gently on her hip while lifting her chin up with his right hand. “I meant you,” he whispered in her ear.
Something inside her mind snapped then. She thought it might be the solitude she had felt all her life, or the feeling of being a pawn of her father’s rule. Or perhaps it was simply fate. She had longed for intimacy for years now, but of someone of her choosing—not her father’s. She let all her inhibitions dissipate, forcing down the invisible walls in her mind that prevented her to feel, finally embracing the moment before her eyes. She looked Rodrik in the eyes and leaned in for a kiss, which he returned hungrily. He led Alessia back to the room, towards the bed that loomed invitingly in the corner. He pushed Ale
ssia gently in the bed, and Alessia let out a joyous, playful laughter as she hit the soft mattress. Rodrik followed her into the bed and pressed his body against hers. She felt exhilarated, anxious, fearful even—but she didn’t let it stop her.
***
It was the sound of singing birds that roused Alessia the morning after. The gentle warmth of the dawn’s light washed over her naked body, and she stretched herself awake, alone in that strange bed. She saw no trace of Rodrik, and for a moment, feared she had abandoned her alone in this foreign room.
“I see you are awake,” Rodrik said, smiling from across the room. He had redressed himself into a different set of clothes. He looked just as handsome as he had last night, and Alessia felt ashamed she didn’t have the foresight to bring spare clothes to her adventure as she saw her old dress laying on the floor.
“I suppose I am,” Alessia answered, yawning. She reached for the linens, wrapping them around her body. No matter what they had done under these sheets in the previous night, she felt uncomfortable showing herself to him in broad daylight.
“Care for some breakfast?”
“Yes. I am famished.”
“It’s no wonder, especially after last night,” Rodrik grinned. “Stay right where you are. I’ll make sure the barkeep will prepare the best this tavern has to offer. I’ll fetch it right over, so don’t you dare move a muscle!” Rodrik paused for a moment. “… my lady.”
Rodrik closed the door right behind him, leaving Alessia to her thoughts. Seeing Rodrik’s smile again made her heart quicken. Gods, did she fancy the man that much, or was it simply the memory of their night together?
I know my father would never accept this… whatever this is. I have no choice but to let the boy down softly—for his sake, if not mine. Whatever had happened last night could not happen again; they belonged to different worlds. She had a duty to her kingdom, and she would not let her feelings stop her pursuit of truth. She would find the murderer of her brothers—even if it was the last thing he did.
