The king struggled to find his words.
“You do not know how?” I smiled. “That makes two of us.”
The king seemed to contemplate our plight for so long a moment, that when he spoke, I was certain he would deny me. “Iwill teach you what I know of magic, Little Baker, if you promise to open your heart to it.”
“Open my heart?” I reeled, my cheeks heating. “I have averyopen heart, thank you very much.” I might have been a tad defensive. “And, for your information, I amnotlittle.” I huffed. I couldn’t believe I was speaking to the king in such a manor, but it seemed I’d forgotten my decorum again, if indeed I ever possessed the virtue.
“You are among elves, Little Baker. We pride ourselves on our stature.”
“Well, among humans, I’m perfectly average,” I claimed, though truthfully, I’d always been among the shortest.
“You could never be considered average.”
Was that a slight against my height? Or was there a bare tinge of pink coloring the tops of the king’s cheeks? My heart pounded, all thoughts of sleep leaving my mind, but the king cleared his throat.
“It has been decided. We leave for Winterthorn tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I croaked. So soon?
“Pack your things in the morning, for we leave at sunset. I will have proper traveling clothes sent to your rooms, but we must travel light.” The king stood. “We have much to do.”
I nodded, staring into the fair face of the king. He seemed tired, if an eternally handsome being could look tired, but resolute. He dipped his head, and I understood that as a dismissal.
“Until tomorrow,” I said as I gathered up Wilma’s book on cookies.“Until then.”
The next day,Rafia woke me, then let in elf after elf carrying packages from the king. Enchanted saddlebags that could hold many times their size. Three traveling dresses. Five long tunics. Tight pants in the style of the king’s bodyguard. I may have blushed at the thought of wearing those. Shin-high leather boots lined in fleece. A wolf-fur coat enchanted to keep my entire body warm and dry. Mittens and a hat that seemed to be made of snow-bunny fur, though when I mentioned as much, Rafia wrinkled her nose. “We would never wear the skins of such an animal. This hat is made from the morning dew that falls on the willowflower every morning of spring. It is collected and sewn to protect the head and heart from any ill enchantments.”
“Ill enchantments?” I rubbed my infected leg absently. “There is more dark magic out there besides this blight?”
“The king will not risk it, though dark magic is rare.” Rafia clucked her tongue as she surveyed my scarred leg. “You seem to find it rather adeptly.”
I wrinkled my nose as Rafia handed me a pair of pants, more like thick stockings. “I’ve never worn pants before. Won’t it be improper?”
Rafia smiled, “Wearing a dress while riding a horse for miles would be more improper, I believe.”
I snatched the stocking-like pants and pulled them up over my legs, then threw on a tunic and cinched a leather belt about my waist. Next were the boots, warm and surprisingly supple. I inspected myself in the mirror. My traveling outfit gave me the same striking figure as that of the king’s bodyguard. I turned about, marveling at the ease of movement. Yes. I could get very, very used to this.
The scars on my leg merely pulsed with a memory of a pain now that I’d had another dose of Jel’s miracle potion. I packed my flask of potion, which Jel had produced last night for both the king and me, in my crossbody pack, along withmy treasured cookbook and spoon. I packed a single pot and pan, some flint and other small utensils. I also packed several bottles of my cooking necessities like baking powder, soda, and spices—leaning heavily towards my favorite Christmas baking seasonings.
If I was to use my magic, learn it, grow, then I’d need to bake as much as possible on this journey.
Rafia packed my other saddlebag with food for the journey, a bed roll and a small tent, just in case, she said, in case we couldn’t find an inn on the long road to Winterthorn. I swallowed down the thought of traveling with the king, with the blush it brought my cheeks and the butterflies that danced in my belly. I would not be a silly little maiden. I was a craftswoman.
A baker. A magic baker, if the king was to be believed.
Now I just needed to believe in myself.
I didn’t like the king, not really. I liked the attention. But he’d still taken me from my family, even if it was in an attempt to save his kingdom. And I got infected from the same shadow plague. I would need to guard my naïve little heart. I may know some of what was happening in the Undying Lands, but not all. The king kept many secrets from me, and I’d need to hold my heart close.
The butterflies danced all the same as I followed Rafia toward the cottage next to the royal stables under the cover of darkness. Tall green trees loomed over us in the indigo sky as the sun fell behind the horizon in a burst of oranges and pinks.
“The king prefers no-one knows where he’s gone.” Rafia explained as she hauled my saddlebags over her strong shoulders, “He told his court that he will be traveling to his country estate for the next two weeks to prepare for the solstice and does not desire to be disturbed.”
“Just like that, he gets out of royal duties?” I quirked an eyebrow, “Must be nice to be king.”
“It is not that simple. He had to pass his duties on to Serrina, as she will see to the kingdom in his stead, and?—”
“Hisbodyguard?” I teased. “And will she be stabbing the unsuspecting peasant mercilessly for every small complaint or eating them for breakfast?”
