My legs were tapping out a frantic beat. I crossed and uncrossed my legs a thousand times. I kept tugging at the hem, shifting in the dress and yanking the neckline loose, however fabric stayed locked in place. Fingers twitching like I might shred the dress, which wrapped around me determined to squeeze all air out of me. But it wasn't the emerald green dress that was the problem. The dress fit perfectly. Too well. Then I started tapping my fingers, one by one against my thigh nervously.
"Can you please stop?" I raised my head, freezing my body mid-motion.
Lady Fairton's charcoal eyes narrowed from annoyance.
"You're making me nervous." She said it flatly, before turning back to the golden framed window. While she looked outside with detached boredom, I had to distract myself in the opulence of the carriage or anything that would keep my mind off Erdonal. I looked around. Everything looked expensive, that kind of expensive thing that made you question the source of this wealth, especially in a supposedly bankrupted noble lady.
The heavy velvet curtains dark as a forest at night, clung from the ceiling long, sealing off any light. The black heartwood floors gleamed beneath the dark brown leather seats. It was impossible not to notice the cushioning and upholstery embroiled with Erdonal's and Fairton House insignias. The richness of the carriage was undeniable, unusual, yet it all tied together in the typical Erdonal style. All so royal and proper. Even the soldiers. The only one who didn't fit in here was I. Part of me was certain how obvious it was, how it was written all over my face. They would read it off my posture, my voice and my eyes before I would be able even to mumble my name.
Fear gripped me, but so did the twisted sort of thrill, the one you taste right before death, when you know that there's no turning back. It was a contradiction I couldn't explain. I kept muttering specific words, bending vowels and cutting the endings, training my tongue to make the accent sound more natural. But still it didn't make me sound native. Lady Fairton kept glancing out of the window, then turning her eyes on me. Lingering for a second. Then returning to me, and then again and again.
I couldn't hold back anymore. "Is there anything you want to say, Lady Fairton?"
Her stare cut me, without a word she shut the curtains close. It looked like she was about to get a very throbbing headache, and I was the reason for it.
"Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into, child?" She grimaced. Just as I opened my mouth to reply, she narrowed her eyes and raised a finger to her lips and signaled for me to be silent.
My jaw dropped. Did she… just shush me?
"It doesn't matter anyways. None of it matters now." Her gaze swept across me one more time. "It's going to be so wrinkly, but I guess we can write it off as a result of travel." She touched her forehead as if the headache had already come.
"I'm sorry, but–"
"And you're too fidgety. You must hold yourself more like a lady, Lyra, otherwise no one will ever believe that you are my niece." With a deep sight she rolled her eyes in pure irritation.
For the first time, I saw the resemblance in our dresses, they mirrored each other. Probably, that was the reason she was finally satisfied when I wore it. Another sight escaped her lips, before she turned her head back to the window. I didn't look at her. Keeping my focus on anything, mostly trying to avoid reaching for the daggers in my boots, and shoelaces from strangling her. I counted all the sequins and all the stones. Recounted them again and again. Then I slowly parted the curtain to get a better look of the outside, but the window showed nothing but my own reflection staring back at me. Yet again Lady Fairton's eyes were glued to me.
"We'll stop for the night before reaching the Great Gates." Lady Fairton announced, suddenly breaking the silence.
"What for? Isn't it dangerous to stay on the land that belongs to no one?"
She smiled. "Oh it definitely is. Invites all kinds of things, don't you think?" She smirked. "Despite everything, I always rested there after each of my travels. I'll be expected there. And everything has to look as usual."
Olghyr, the town with no master, wasn't just a dangerous place. Even if officially it stood on the territory of Rasfalia, it hadn't belonged to it for decades. Being so close to the Great Gates, it invited all types of travellers. It was the last stop before entering the Great Gates and being officially on the territory of Erdonal. Officially, far far away from home.
There was something else on the tip of her tongue, something she wanted to say last time, but yet again she was caught in hesitation.
"Is there anything you would like to add, Lady Fairton?" I asked.
After a brief pause, her lips curled in an unmistakable satisfactory grin. "How amusing it is to know that the paths of Gods are truly unknown to us." She said condescendingly. I didn't answer. She has earned every bit of her reputation. Completely untouched by grief or any regret, and at last I understood why they all hated her.
The carriage swayed sharply, as the motion grew rougher and more unpredictable. With every turn wheels creaked straining against an uneven path. We were climbing up, no doubt. Rasfalian flat roads were behind us, I could feel a slight nauseating feeling, as we were entering highlands. The landscape was growing harsher, dotted with jaded rocks. We slowed as the horses were pulling the carriage up. I placed my hand on the cold glass, eyes tracing the creeping mist slowly covering the hills and any shades that remotely resembled a large rock or a mountain. It was getting colder and the biting frost was wrapping around my ankles.
"Were you best in the Camp?" Lady Fairton asked. Her eyes scanned me waiting for my reply.
"I was…good." I didn't lie, but I wasn't truthful. Failure of some exams did not mean I was not fit for the mission. Or at least I hoped so.
"So not the best." I couldn't believe the nerve she had. She smirked, as if amused from the idea that I'll probably die sooner than she was expecting and relieve her of this burden.
"It's not important," I met her stare, unwilling to give her any satisfaction. " What's important is that I was chosen by King Roe to complete this mission. To find out what Erdonal is up to, and to help Rasfalia finally win this war."
I didn't mention 'witches', not because I was unsure if Lady Fairton knew about it, especially after everything Daniel told me, she was likely even involved in it somehow. But more as a precaution, unsure if she was a friend or a foe.
Lady Fairton grinned even more.
"Oh, I don't doubt that." She shook her head and leaned in slightly, closing the distance between us. And suddenly the carriage felt even smaller. "You know you remind me of someone. Someone I knew a long long time ago, and she, like you wanted to do good, wanted to fight the fight, but ultimately it didn't matter."
"Why didn't it?"
"Because the Kingdom killed her."
There was on her face the faintest of smiles, before she turned her face back to the window, just as quickly. The question lingered on the tip of my tongue, but I let it go. Even if I would try to piece it all together, I assumed – no, I knew it had to be her daughter that I was reminding her of.
It didn't matter that the carriage was large enough to pace in, just the journey with Lady Fairton was becoming a slow kind of torture. Torture that I was taught to withstand, she didn't even need weapons, let alone her presence was getting the best of me. Even the silence wasn't peaceful. I could feel Lady Fairton's fear, and there was nothing to distract me from it. It felt like it was an endless road, aching tight dress, that was making me silently yelp each time the wheels would pass through a puddle or a hole, and the company I was now stuck with and could not escape.
Neither of us spoke for the rest of the journey, the silence was only interrupted by the rhythmic clatter of the wheels and occasional interruption of the soldier calling out each river we crossed, mountain trail we climbed or old Gods sculptures we passed. The latter was something that these territories were filled with surprisingly. The closer we got to Olghyr the more statues would appear, of Amethys - Goddess of the Underworld, of Nizar - the God of Honour, and Xelin - the God of Luck. After the rebellion, those faded or were forgotten in Rasfalia and were only considered sacred by the seers or witches. But here, it still lingered, as if Erdonal didn't dare to erase them.
The scenery from the outside of the window kept changing from the bushy green forest filled with wildlife and singing of Tuyur birds that would wake me every morning from sleep, to now snow-capped and gloomy bareness of Erdonal and its icy silence. The cold seamlessly intruded itself into the carriage and I could feel it numbing my bones from head to toes, slowly grabbing it and turning me into a dead mass. The small snowflakes crystallizing on the window in the intricate patterns were confirming that we were getting closer and closer.
Now, there was no way back, we were already so far from the camp and barely an hour away from the border. As we approached Dragon's Den, the only tavern in a mile radius from everything, and I saw a pristine blanket of freshly fallen snow.
I remembered how much I hated winter.