“I don’t know. It’s not as though I live at the palace. If you cannot grant us entry into this home, then we will make our own way in.” He nodded at two of his men, who stepped forward and began to unlatch the gate.
“Good sirs.” A new voice joined the conversation.
Erich had dropped from his horse and bowed to the guards as though they were royalty themselves. “Erich Sirilian, fourth prince of Iseldis, at your humble service.”
Four heads snapped to attention at both his announcement and the swooping feather that accompanied it.
Isa watched in fascination. She had known Aden was a prince, but she had not had the chance to see him in action as such. Watching Erich instantly demand the attention he wanted was fascinating.
“Your Highness,” the head guard started, looking to his fellow guards for confirmation that they were not being fooled by some jester. He bowed.
“My good sirs,” Erich continued. “I have only just arrived in your fine kingdom, as you can see.” He gestured to his horse with the sweeping hand motion Isa had come to recognize as distinctly his own. “I am quite eager to see my dear friend, August—you might know him, actually. He’s the son of your king. Would you be so kind as to escort me to the palace?”
The guards looked at each other, not wanting to be diverted from their orders but not sure how to oppose this new request.
“I am quite weary from my travels and unfamiliar with these outer parts of your fine city, but in the presence of such fine gentlemen as yourselves, I am sure I shall reach my destination safely.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” the guard stammered. “Two of my men here...”
“Two? You would risk my safety with only two of your men?” The feather veritably trembled. “Come now, Captain. Surely you cannot mean that?” Erich pointed at the gate to the Bielsa villa. “If you are worried about your activities here, I shall personally ensure your superiors that I am entirely to blame. Come now, let us make haste. My stomach needs filling and my clothes need cleansing.” Not willing to take no for an answer, Erich swung back up on his horse and trotted into the center of the road, waiting for the guards to step in front of him and lead the way.
Seeing no other choice, they did. “We’ll be back tomorrow, miss,” the lead guard said quietly to Isa as he turned away. He knew he was being played and was obviously miffed about it, but Isa did not care.
Erich shot a quick wink in her direction before he sauntered off.
Isa pushed open the gate and slipped into the courtyard of her childhood home, drawing her horse in behind her. Poor Prince Erich of Iseldis would have to wait a little longer for the bath he had been so loudly looking forward to.
Isa found her family gathered in her father’s room. Before any words were spoken, she buried her face in her mother’s shoulder. Lady Bielsa looked many seasons older, although they had only been apart a few weeks.
“My dear, sweet girl,” she said, her hand on the back of Isa’s head, “I am so glad you are here.”
“How is Papa?” Isa asked, turning her eyes to the figure on the bed. He looked like a ghost, his skin devoid of any color and sinking into the hollows of his face. He did not even appear to be breathing, the blankets on his chest neither rising nor falling as one would expect them to.
“The physician does not think he will last the night. Come, sit.”
Thankful that her mother had not immediately asked for a report, Isa looked around the room. More chairs and benches had been brought in, and she guessed that family and friends had been keeping vigil here for some days.
Her sister Livia had been dozing on a bench in the corner. She opened her eyes, realizing that Isa was home. Jumping up, Livia threw her arms around her sister. “I thought I was never going to see you again!” she cried, slightly more dramatically than their mother had.
Isa stroked her head. “It’s alright now, Liv. I’m here and safe.”
“Where is the beast?” Livia leaned back to look at Isa’s face, eager for news of what had happened in the mountains. “Professor Surrell said there was a terrifying beast that could talk and that he attacked you. The beast, that is, not Professor Surrell—but that he, Professor Surrell, saved you from the beast!”
“Let us focus on Papa tonight,” Isa suggested, the exhaustion from her hours of riding seeping back into her bones. She squeezed her sister’s arms reassuringly. “Everything is fine and I’m here now, safe.”
She sat on a bench and invited her sister to join her. Despite the sadness that hung heavy in the room, Isa knew she had made the right decision to come home to her family.
“I have the Floutast.” She moved to stand from the bench, ready to take care of it immediately. “Is there somewhere we can send it tonight?”
“The councilors left for Chendas this morning. We’ll have to send it with a messenger first thing tomorrow. There is nothing we can do about it tonight.”
Isa sank back onto the bench and leaned against her sister.
She breathed in and out, listening to the silence.
That was, until the door slammed open and Macklin rushed into the room, his head frantically turning back and forth until he found her sitting in the corner.
“Miss Isa!” he cried, far more loudly than a person should speak in a sick room. “You are safe!” He threw himself on his knees at her feet, grasping her hands and looking up into her face. “I thought I would never see you again. I hope you know that every step I took through the wilderness—every agonizing, uncertain, painful step—I took for you.”
