Chapter 22

Their journey took most of the day. The mountain ridges around them grew gradually steeper until they rose vertically hundreds of feet into the air like giant stone curtains. Captain Padrin rode straight ahead until the party emerged from the forest into a small clearing in the shadow of the cliff face. 

He continued riding directly to the rock wall as if he were totally content running the entire party headfirst into the cliff. As they drew closer, Annalise’s vision shifted, and she finally recognized that one of the jagged outcroppings of stone hid a small passageway that was barely large enough to fit a wagon. When he reached the entrance to the passage, Captain Padrin reined in his mount and waited for Annalise.

“Princess Annalise, Captain Kierson, we are almost there,” he said with a nod. 

Soren returned the nod, and the other captain’s horse fell into step beside them. 

They followed the twisting pathway between the two rock walls, steadily climbing upwards, through several switchbacks and seemingly dead-ends where the path angled off at the last minute until the sun started to descend in the sky. 

“Are we going to camp overnight in this maze?” Soren asked. 

“Not at all. In fact, it’s not too much further,” Captain Padrin said. 

They turned a corner in the road, and the cliffs suddenly fell away beside them, opening up to a dark evergreen forest blanketed in snow. The ground before them was covered in a thick layer of pine needles, every step wafting an astringent but not unpleasant smell into the air. The mountains towering above them continued to run in either direction, only disappearing from sight due to the massive height of the trees.

For the first time since she’d met him, Captain Padrin smiled. “Welcome to Murana, the land between the mountains. We don’t have long until we get to the capital city, Orighet, perhaps a two-hour ride if we move quickly. How is your leg holding up, Captain Kierson?” 

“It’s fine,” Soren said, although he winced with the next step he took.  

Annalise shifted in her saddle, preparing to swing down. “If it’s not I can–”

“Princess Annalise, if you try to get me to ride that infernal horse one more time I’ll swear off ever riding again,” Soren said through gritted teeth. 

“No need for that; we have an outpost not far from here that should have a few extra mounts,” Captain Padrin said over his shoulder as he nudged his horse forward. 

They procured a mount for Soren from the small outpost hidden among the trees, and after he’d swung into the saddle with a groan, Captain Padrin led their party out of the forest and through large snowy fields to a village that sat on the edge of a partially frozen lake. The mountain range continued on either side until it joined at the far end, forming a huge bowl that cupped the valley with its steep walls. As they rode, Annalise tried several times to make conversation with Captain Padrin to learn about where he was taking them, but while he was very courteous, he remained taciturn and spoke only in monosyllables. 

Orighet was a quaint little town. All the children appeared healthy and well-cared for, the women smiled at Annalise, and the men had a relaxed manner as they went about their business. The street was clean, the buildings kept up, and the general atmosphere was sweet and welcoming instead of the air of desperation that had hung over Dovelan all too often lately. If this was what a typical Rhinnean town looked like, Annalise thought perhaps she could learn to be happy in the new land.

In the center of town sat a gated lodge. It had stone walls approximately the height of two men, but the keep itself was relatively small and only four stories tall. 

When they’d first entered the forest, Captain Linnean had sent several of his guards ahead to notify of their arrival, and a handful of healers were already waiting for them at the keep’s entrance. 

Soren swung down from his mount with a grunt and offered to help Annalise down from hers, but she declined and dismounted on her own. 

A matronly, buxom woman with a red, cheerful face and grey hair braided in a crown around her head introduced herself as Elsabeth and whisked Annalise away in a whirlwind of conversation and observations. By the time Annalise had a chance to take a breath, Elsabeth had shown her to a set of guest chambers and shut the door behind them. Through an open door across the room, Annalise could see several other serving women had just finished pouring a hot bath for her. 

“Now we’re going to get you in the bath and let you soak a bit. If you’ll just turn around, I’ll help you unlace your dress, Your Highness. I heard about what happened from Captain Padrin’s outriders. It’s bad business if you ask me. Those highwaymen attacking a princess?” Elsabeth clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Absolutely shameful behavior on their part. They deserved whatever punishment they got.” 

“They died. I overhead Captain Padrin talking to Captain Soren. None of the bandits escaped,” Annalise said in a small voice when Elsabeth took a rare breath. 

“Did they? Good. Imagine how evil they must have been to rip a princess out of her carriage like that, and without even taking your maid, either! Those savages could have at least provided you with a change of clothes or something befitting your station. To think of what the world is coming to nowadays, it makes me sick. Anyway, back to the business at hand. Forgive me, Your Highness, if this is a sensitive topic, but rumors abound of your curse. Is it true that whoever you touch dies?” Elsabeth asked as she unlaced Annalise’s gown. 

“Yes, unfortunately. If they touch my skin, or my blood or spit, they die a very painful death.” Annalise braced herself, waiting for the gasp of shock or the snide comments, but Elsabeth’s fingers didn’t so much as even pause in their working.

“Well, if you don’t mind my saying so, that’s too bad. When you’re not acting as the Dovean Crown Princess negotiating trade deals or wrangling nobles, a pretty young thing like you ought to be thinking about which nobleman you want to court or the design of your future coronation dress, not worry about accidentally killing a dancing partner. I suppose it helps with the dressmakers through—a seamstress fearing for her life is much less likely to stick you with an errant needle.” 

Annalise laughed a deep, hearty laugh that felt like it infused sunlight into her bones and made her as light as air. When she’d finally regained control, she shook her head, wiping tears from her eyes. “My father would no more let me negotiate a trade deal than he would let me dance with a nobleman. My official role in Dovea was simply to exist.” 

Elsabeth’s jaw dropped open, and she looked offended on Annalise’s behalf. “Surely you had some duties,” she said tartly. 

“Only those I assigned myself. I was the patron of our healer and weaving guilds and did my best to help them care for our orphans, widows, and elderly. My father only tolerated my role; I’m sure if it wasn’t so helpful in bolstering public opinion of the royal family he wouldn’t have let me even do that.” Suddenly aware of what she was saying to a woman she didn’t even know, Annalise snapped her mouth shut with a clack of her teeth.

If she noticed Annalise’s discomfort, Elsabeth didn’t pry further and instead changed the subject to the weather, the amount of snow on the ground, and the complaints of her cousin whose laying hens had stopped laying. When she finished with the last of the lacings, she gathered Annalise’s muddy boots as Annalise stepped out of her dress. “Would you like any help bathing, Your Highness?” 

Elsabeth’s bare hand reached for the bloodied and torn dress discarded on the floor, and Annalise’s heart rose in her throat.