Ashlin sat back down for a moment, finishing the contents in her cup. Her mind wanted to replay the conversation she had just had. Her father would be heartbroken if he knew how much his family was struggling in his absence. He had been the most leisurely person she had ever known. Not that he was lazy—far from it. Rather, he had always been present in every moment. He could spend hours pondering the beauty of a wildflower or discussing a written masterpiece. Ashlin thought of the two books she could not bear to sell that she kept next to her bed in the small scullery maid’s room. She and her father had read them together. They were only halfway through the last one when he had planned to sail north to Allys. She had begged him to stay another week so they could finish it together before he left. It was her fondest memory and her deepest pain.
One week later, he left for the sea to set sail. It was in the middle of goldenreign, so the weather had been warm for weeks. Mere hours after his leaving the harbor, a Majis-powered storm had erupted through the skies, disturbing the sea below and smashing the ship against the coast. Over the past three seasons, the sea storms had grown more frenetic, as though the Majis were threatening the entire continent with their return.
But why had they stirred the sea that day? The Isle of Exile was many days away by sea. Were they trying to destroy the only people their magic could reach? Ashlin had always blamed herself for her father’s death, but perhaps she was not the only one to blame.
The small feelings of anger spiraling in her heart scared her. It was time to return to work, where her mind would be too preoccupied to dwell on these thoughts. She could sort out her feelings later.
She stepped down the stairs.
“Would you like a cup of tea while your sister tries on her dress?” Ashlin could hear Mistress Cedrice speaking in the front area of the store.
“No, thank you. I only stopped in to see her safely here,” a man’s voice responded.
Ashlin’s sad thoughts disappeared.
“I must head out to check on the city guard,” the familiar male voice continued. “I’ll return soon to walk home with you, Meena.”
Ashlin pushed open the wooden door that separated the back room from the storefront. Prince Onric was indeed standing in the dressmaker’s shop, pushing the front door open to step out onto the street. He stopped moving as soon as she entered the room, and a dazzling smile spread across his face.
“On second thought, a cup of tea sounds delightful.” He spoke to the seamstress, but his eyes were on Ashlin.
“Of course, Your Highness. Let me get that for you.” Mistress Cedrice turned towards the door, noticing Ashlin for the first time.
“I can take care of it while you work with your customer,” Ashlin offered.
“Thank you, child.”
Mistress Cedrice took the princess into the back room, and Ashlin quickly gathered the already prepped teapot and two cups from the upstairs kitchen, bringing them back to the table in the storefront.
Onric was holding a pair of scissors, cutting the air with them which created a brisk slicing sound.
“Oh! You should not toy with those,” Ashlin gasped. “Mistress Cedrice does not let anyone touch the scissors except for herself. They are one of her most prized possessions.”
Onric immediately set them down on the table, remorse filling his face.
Ashlin froze. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness. I’m sure this does not apply to you.” She dipped into a small curtsy, careful not to jostle the full teapot in her hands.
“Of course it applies to me,” Onric replied, stepping around the wooden table and reaching for the teapot. “I wouldn’t dare upset the dear seamstress lest she start sewing my clothes uncomfortably tight.”
Ashlin laughed, her embarrassment dissipating. She set the cups down on the wooden table.
“Why are you here?” she asked. “Does not the palace employ a seamstress?”
Onric filled the cups with tea and set the pot on the table. “We do. Ian suggested that we spend more coin with the city shop owners since everyone is struggling right now. My father thought it was a splendid idea, so here we are.”
“That is very thoughtful. Mistress Cedrice truly is the best dressmaker in town, and she often charges less than she should when the townsfolk cannot afford something.” Ashlin remembered the brown wool that the seamstress had given her for a pittance of vegetables, and her heart warmed.
“My mother is very excited about the tapestry. She is quite impressed.” Onric took a sip of tea. He scrunched his nose for a moment, and Ashlin wondered if the tea was too hot.
“I’m excited too,” she responded. “Steward Daniel has told me that my sole focus is restoring the tapestry between now and the ball.” She did not want to complain about scrubbing his floors, but she was looking forward to less strenuous work at the palace.
“So, will the restoration take place in the eastern tower, or are they moving the giant monstrosity somewhere else?” He took another sip of tea, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
“It will probably stay in the eastern tower. I do not want it to get damaged further by moving it before it is ready.”
He nodded casually. “Good to know.”
She watched his face, trying to ascertain why he was asking. But he was merely taking another sip of tea. He grimaced again.
