“They always seem to find trouble, don’t they?” Evelina said softly. “Good luck.”
Alaina gave a polite smile and wished Evelina a good day as she slipped out of the room.
Evelina walked over to the shelves of jars, taking stock to ensure they were ready for the day. The stock was far lower than it should’ve been, likely spread thin with the increasing number of attacks lately. The refugee camps were surely overflowing by now.
She found one jar completely empty. She sniffed inside it, the scent of sandalwood and leather wafting into her nose.
All it took was a single whiff and Evelina could identify what plant it was and what it could be used for.
“Princess Evelina?” Willow’s light voice filled the room.
Evelina turned around, surprised to see her. They hadn’t spoken much since Daimon’s injury, but even from the brief encounters she had with her, she had taken a liking to the Woodland Rider.
“Is your wound bothering you?” Evelina asked. “I can mix up a quick salve for you.”
Willow shook her head quickly. “No, nothing like that. I’m headed out with a beta fleet Rider to patrol around Baile the rest of the day. I was told to see if a healer was available to come pick up the herbs. But I didn’t expect it to be you… I’m sorry I asked.”
Evelina’s eyes flickered to the diminished stock on the shelves. Evelina loved Baile, a quaint town brimming with joyful villagers who mostly grew herbs for the healers in the palace. And she could see Ian, the elderly human gardener who held a soft place in her heart.
“No, I’ll go. It’ll be nice to get some fresh air.” Evelina grabbed a spare supply satchel and slung it over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother,” Willow said softly from the door.
Evelina paused, her heart twisting. Fresh air was exactly what she needed.
It would be a quick flight to Baile, likely no more than an hour. Evelina admired the trees beneath them and basked in the morning sun as it turned into a warm afternoon light, contemplating how much her life had changed since the war—how much the entire empire had changed.
Before the war, she and her siblings spent so much time outside of the palace. They would go out into the other territories—Drogheda, Syreni, Viridian—and spend whole days out in the glade from sunup to sundown, only going back to the palace to bathe and sleep.
Evelina hardly remembered what that kind of life was like before the rebels started to pop up. The realm used to be a well-greased ecosystem between fae and humans.
She could practically hear Aderyn, her old instructor, who made them recite texts back to her. The texts ranged from learning the creatures of the forests to learning about older rulers’ accounts to studying how the empire ran so smoothly for so long. Evelina’s siblings would memorize things quickly, but she always needed a little more repetition.
Woodland would use their Essence to foster growth in the land, while the humans would tend to the produce by growing, harvesting, and tilling the land the Woodlands recharged. The Nocturna would keep all fae and human dreams safe from creatures that fed off dreams and nightmares, while the Aegis guarded the land from the monsters of the waking realm. The Undine were harder to understand, their world a kingdom of their own beneath the water.
But for years now, it seemed like their days were mostly spent within solid walls and a roof blocking the sun from their view. There were so many others less fortunate than her—the ones with straw roofs and clay walls, vulnerable to the growingdarkness. How could she stay chained to her perfectly manicured palace when the empire was suffering?
“We’ll touch down for a short period of time,” Willow shouted, and then, to the wyvern of the beta Rider flying with them, “Khaline, find us a place to land.”
Children played in the town square, fae and human alike. People gave Evelina and Willow a pleasant wave or a quick smile as they passed over. Baile was bustling with shop owners trading and selling goods. Several stalls had been set up as a makeshift market. Those not selling or buying sat on wooden porches, rocked in chairs, or stood and talked.
They landed in an open field on the outskirts of town and walked in. Evelina trailed behind while Willow and the beta Rider discussed fleet matters. As they made it into town, the Riders peeled off to speak with the townspeople, checking to see if any rebels had been sighted recently, a standard survey for each town they patrolled.
Evelina spent the afternoon drinking ale with the townspeople and buying goods from their shops, including enough sandalwood to refill the entire jar back in the infirmary. She bought an apple from a stall by the square center and wandered over to a small bench to have her modest lunch.
There were plenty of people milling about, but her attention was mostly pulled by three small girls tossing a ball nearby. The ball soared over one of their heads, landing at Evelina’s feet.
“Pass it to me!” one begged.
“No, me!” the other jumped in.
She laughed and tossed it to the one that hadn’t asked for it, the other two groaning. As she watched the girls’ vibrant smiles, so full of life, a small weight lifted off her chest.
While the Riders walked back to the field to feed their wyverns, Evelina settled into a tavern, a small space with a few wobbly chairs and uneven tables. The villagers sipped on watered-down ale and laughed with one another, quickly looping Evelina in as they shared about their lives.
Evelina leaned forward, elbows on the table, entranced by the female who had lived for centuries. She wove tales in such a way that Evelina found herself holding her breath.
“The wyverns are beasts of intellect and stealth,” the female said, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “But the dragons?” She laughed and shook her head. “They’re brute force, fire-breathing predators.”
