“Are you sure?” Mych asked.
“I answered yes three times. My mind won’t change.”
It was early enough that it was still quiet. There were children outside, but they were tired and moved slowly. Mothers had to herd them along, a warming sight. They carried baskets or pulled barrows filled with clothes. It was washing day, and Jasyn planned to help.
A river slithered not too far away, and he followed along. Townsfolk gave him curious glares, but he offered to carry a basket from a nearby woman. She hesitated, but he urged her. Then, he made Mych do the same.
At the river, he watched as the mothers began washing the clothes in the water, showing their children how it was done. Some of the unfocused ones just jumped into the current and splashed each other.
He wanted to join them, but he kept to the task. He noted how the women were scrubbing the fabrics against each other to remove stains, some even using a smooth rock to massage the clothes.
A woman noticed him. “Are you here to learn, Prince Jasyn?”
“And help,” he added.
“This work is below you. I—we—” she gestured around, “wouldn’t feel uncomfortable allowing you to get on your knees.”
He wanted to push, but it was unfair. He would disrupt their rhythm. Still, he looked at how they hung the clothes on branches or laid them on rocks, how many of the women commented on how long it would take the clothes to dry with thelack of sun, and an idea formed. Esi’s words from the party rang through him. She was right. He shouldn’t hide his gift from his people. There shouldn’t be secrets, and even if his light wasn’t as magnificent as before his siblings’ deaths, it was still powerful.
Moving to the clothes, he called to his light and let the warmth exuding from his hands dry the fabrics quickly. Eyes were on him, but he didn’t mind. He was in control of the situation, of his mind and body.
“Magic!” a child yelled, and he heard their footsteps pounding against the pebbles.
Where one went, the others followed. Soon, he had a herd of them surrounding him.
“Me next! Me next!” A young girl bounced on her small feet as she lifted the end of her dress toward him.
Jasyn chuckled and gently let his light glow against the dress. The children watched in awe as the fabric lightened before their eyes.
With that one trick, all the children started hounding him to dry their clothes next. It was chaotic and overwhelming, but he reminded himself of the world before him—the ground beneath his feet, the stream of water in the river, the sounds of birds and families around him.
When he had dried the fifth child, he swore his eyes were playing tricks as Esi appeared from behind the trees and waved at him, her face like a gentle breeze on a hot day.
Yet, for some odd reason, his response was to panic.
He smiled at the children before jogging off toward her. Mych was not too far behind, keeping a close eye on them both.
“What are you doing here?” She should be at the castle. “Did you come here alone?”
Esi blinked and crossed her arms.
“I didn’t realize I was a prisoner.”
Her words were sharp, and they hit him hard. Yet, it didn’t quell that rising tide of fear. She shouldn’t be out here alone.
“You could be killed,” he snapped.
“By whom? The children?” She scoffed.
“We should go,” Mych urged. “You have an audience.”
Jasyn turned around, and everyone seemed to snap their attention away as soon as he did. The young girl—the first to have her clothes dried—came up to them with flowers tied together to form a crown. She reached up to give it to Esi, who bent down to be at the same height as the child. She placed it on Esi’s head, and some of the panic began to wash away, like dirt scrubbed from clothes.
“You’re pretty,” the young girl said, her voice giggly.
Esi tapped the child’s nose. “You look like a princess in your dress.”
The girl giggled again, and like all children, something else quickly caught her attention, causing her to rush off.
