Dropping her feet into the ankle deep water, she bundled her skirt as best she could and waded the final few steps to shore.
Sol naturally helped the sailors lift their trunks from the bottom of the rowboat.
The Falqri Fortress loomed overhead. It was constructed of the same red sandstone which spread along the cliffs all the way down the coast as far as the eye could see.
Standing directly below it, Meena tilted her head far back and took in the low profile of the wide building. It appeared to be built into the cliff rather than above it. A thin path swung back and forth up the cliff face, connecting the shore to the city above.
Sol wordlessly dropped a chest by her side in the sand and returned to the boat for another.
Meena could see nothing of the city itself, as the fort and cliff hid it from view. But she could see various people making their way up and down the long road, leading carts and hauling loads of goods from the beach around her.
Sol returned to her side a moment later, dropping another chest. A sailor behind him deposited their third and final piece of luggage.
“If royalty doesn’t work out for you, you could make your fortune at sea,” the sailor dipped his head as he splashed back into the water.
“Thank you, Esven,” Sol said with a sincere smile. “Safe seas to you.”
The sailor winked at Meena. “Though it seems you’ve already found yourself quite the fortune.”
She rolled her eyes as she waved back at him.
Sol did not acknowledge the man’s brash comment. He turned to stand next to Meena, his expression serious. She could see his eyes quickly taking stock of the area around them, just as she had done.
“Who is meeting us?” he asked.
“I have no idea,” she responded. “The councilor said we would be met at the shore and taken to our lodging. He insisted on arranging everything as amarriage gift.” Meena spoke the last two words with contempt.
Sol’s eyes still scanned the light crowd of moving people in front of them, but he picked up on her meaning instantly. “He must keep us constantly under his thumb.”
“It will likely be some gruesome Falqri captain who doubles as both innkeeper and prisonkeeper.” Meena let her imagination play on Sol’s observation. Their keeper would likely search all of their chests for hidden weapons and put them up in a dark room half dug out of the ground as she’d heard was the Falqri way to avoid the sun’s heat indoors. “We are little more than hostages of Chendas.”
“It would be more accurate to say your family is being held hostage,” Sol said.
Meena tensed. He was right. Iseldis was under King Gareth’s thumb, and by traveling alone to the strongest hold in the five kingdoms, Meena and Sol were placing themselves in a precarious position.
“We must give him no reason to think we are suspicious on any account,” Sol continued. “Be the princess you are and we should not raise any concern.” Sol turned back toward the sea, distracted by the sound of another incoming rowboat.
Meena let him speak, knowing she would have no trouble playing her part. It was him they were both concerned about and he knew it. But she enjoyed hearing him talk in multiple sentences at once and didn’t interrupt to correct him.
She did, however, notice two people walking toward them.
“Like this?” she asked, slipping her hand under Sol’s arm and smiling up at him, drawing his attention back to her. They had to re-establish some sort of relationship before they were on display once again. If Sol was not comfortable with her because of the kiss, she had to sell their ruse. Perhaps if she led the way, he would continue to relax enough to smile more often.
“Exactly like that,” Sol responded, his arm stiff. “Though it’s only necessary after our keeper arrives.”
“Keepers, I think,” Meena responded. “And they’ve arrived.” She gestured lightly toward the man and woman quickly approaching them.
“So they have, Meena mine.” Sol spoke quietly, his mouth somehow smiling and tense at once.
“Meena mine?” Their keepers were only a few steps away, but Meena couldn’t help but tease Sol for the silly name he’d called her. He was going to have to try much harder to convince anyone they were in love.
He didn’t respond, but she could feel his arm tense as he prepared to meet the newcomers.
“Prince and Princess Sirilian?” the man asked pleasantly.
Sol didn’t answer immediately, so Meena held out her free hand. “You must be our keeper?” Meena asked.
“Your keeper?” the woman replied, confused.
