I can’t hear him, but he must be saying something that excites them, because they’re all smiling up at him.
Guilt bubbles in me at the thought that I might take that opportunity from another who needs it more than I do, but I shove it down. If I can join the guard and make a difference, it will be worth it. I can help them. And Demitra will survive without me.
I’ll have to work up the courage to march over and add my name to the sheet of competitors before the night ends.
“Arina!” Phillipa entwines her arm with mine and tugs me away from the tent. She must have finished setting up her bar cart early.
The other healers glare at me, and I shoot them a look of apology as Phil drags me through the crowd.
“Did you hear? Apparently, the prince is here. I heard something about him competing in the games.”
I stop in my tracks, barely noticing the crowd of people I’ve offended as they brush by me. Her words are nonsensical, and it almost makes me wonder why someone would spread such a blatant lie. What is there to gain from it?
“That’s not something to tease about, Phil.” But the look on her face tells me she is dead serious. She really believes it. “Has the Smog gotten to you? Even if he had existed, which we do not know for sure, the prince is surely dead,” I say flatly.
The stories I’ve heard are all a little different, but they each line up in a few ways. There may have been a young prince, but he was not named or celebrated in Lukasia at his birth, which is the custom for the royal family when announcing an heir.
The same night a crazed zealot broke into the castle and King Cornelius was murdered, The Smog began to roll in, blocking us out from the other realms. Queen Daphne has never spoken of either of them.
I pity her and feel a sense of kinship with her. The rebels stole things from both of us, after all.
Phillipa is feeding her own delusions today, it seems. “I don’t know! It’s just what I heard. And how insane would that be?” She chews on a dried piece of fruit that she picks up from one of the vendors, like she hasn’t just dropped the most insane rumor in my lap.
“And he’s just, what? Been in hiding all this time? Why wouldn’t he go back to the castle to be with his mother?” I have so many questions. It seems people are so miserable they’re making up fantasies. I almost feel bad for poking holes into the fairytale.
The thought of an heir existing somewhere in Lukasia, but never having shown himself, stirs up a ball of anger in my stomach. What kind of coward wouldn’t step in to try and help his kingdom?
Phil scrunches her nose in thought. “Maybe he knows something we don’t.” She gasps and then whispers, “Maybe he believes the rebels and thinks Queen Daphne had King Cornelius taken out?”
“You have an even better imagination than I do.” I laugh with my friend. There is a nagging feeling that something is watching me again, but I shrug it off. There are so many people here today, I’d be silly to think anyone’s focus is on me.
She continues to pull me along, weaving a tale as we go, “Think about it! What if we go to one of the tournament banquets, he spots you from across the room, asks you to dance, and you fall in love? You could be royalty by the end of the week!”
“No more mead for you! We don’t even know what he would look like,” I tell her, swatting at her hand as she reaches out to grab another glass of ale from her booth.
“Besides, I’m more concerned about winning my place in the guard than falling in love.” I honestly had forgotten about the banquets.
She gives me a look as if I’ve just stamped out all her hopes and dreams, so I make her a promise, “How about this? I will accept a dance from anyone who asks at any of the banquets we attend.”
Her smile returns, and she gives me a squeal.
“You could do a lot of good as the princess of Lukasia, is all I’m saying.”
She’s not wrong. Maybe I’ve gone about this from a bad angle. I allow myself a moment to fantasize about what life in the castle might be like, and all the good I could accomplish from such a position.
We walk by all the different booths. Locals are taking advantage of the increased population to peddle different goods and wares.
There are many offering pottery, as clay is an easy enough thing to come by. Vases, bowls, cups, and even some decorative molds, lay on tables made of barrels and scrap wood.
Even some faces I don’t recognize have booths of goods that must have been brought from far away, because Spoikos has nothing like what they are offering.
The clanging of wood on wood draws my attention to two small boys near a vendor who has carvings made from a type of wood I’ve never seen before. The toy swords the boys are playing knight with are made from the same material.
The children weave in and out of the crowd, climbing over wagons and crates as they advance on one another, shouting and taunting the whole time.
I laugh and jump out of their way when they come near, glad to see some joy is left in the world.
Phil dances and skips through the crowd, offering a smile to everyone she passes. The buzzing energy of the people is making my very bones vibrate.
