Page 51 of Kingdom of Embers and Ruin

The rolling green hills of the city he grew up in were as lush as they had always been. Soft grass rippled in the breeze down toward the long valley housing the white stone buildings and black brick roofs that sprawled out to house the dense population of Veter, the capital city of the Kingdom of Rivers.

The walls of each salt and sun-bleached building had deep green vines that crawled up the sides of them, sprouting flowers that exploded with color against the brick as if the buildings were a blank canvas for Iduna, the goddess of spring, to paint on. The farms on the outskirts of the city, their cottages built into the existing hills, were in full bloom. Miles of farmland stretched out before the city, the rows of vegetables and crops being tended to by the earth wielders and farmers of Veter.

From their high vantage point, Herrick could see the sister river on the opposite side of the city that joined with the river they had just crossed further south, protecting the borders of their kingdom.

Looking further east, he saw the white stone of the Palace of Ocean and Clay standing tall, the last barrier before the rocky shoreline leading to harsh waters. High walls kept the palace and the city safe from the dangerous shore, while the palace stood between the shore and Veter to protect it from an attack on the water.

Maude peeked her head out from where she had been curled up against him and viewed Veter with a look of awe that he didn’t think she was aware of. She sat up a bit straighter and then looked toward the palace, stiffening.

“That’s where we’re going, isn't it?” Her voice had taken on that flat, dead quality once more.

“It’s my home; it’s where you'll be safest,” Herrick said sincerely, his voice just above a whisper.

She said nothing, only pulled her hood tighter around her again and adjusted her position so she could support her weight. Herricksighed and guided the horse forward again. He decided to take the longer route to the palace, arriving at the back entrance after another hour of riding through the sprawling fields that bordered Veter.

He moved to help Maude off the horse once they arrived in the stables behind the palace, but she ignored him and hopped down on her own. Herrick led them through a nondescript wooden door that brought them to the base of the tower that held his rooms.

They ascended the stairs quickly, Maude trailing behind Herrick, silent as a ghost. In no time, they arrived at Herrick’s door, where he hesitated for a moment before reaching for the handle to let them in. He had never brought anyone to his quarters before, only Hakon and Gunnar, and that was because they had grown up in the same part of the palace together.

Any trysts with women generous enough to sleep with him usually happened in his office in the soldier’s barracks or up against the alley wall of whatever pub he was at that night. Shoving his uneasiness aside, Herrick opened the door and motioned for Maude to step inside.

The spacious living area had a few couches and chairs around a fireplace that had a new fire burning hot for his arrival. Piled against the sides of the plush furniture were the books that Herrick had no room for on his shelves: books on war, strategy, and some fiction for when he needed an escape. Through the wide double doors behind them was his room, the massive, sprawling bed pressed with fresh linen that smelled of the palace cleaning potion.

It was messy, but Herrick liked it that way. Spare weapons were scattered across a long table against the far wall, the tools for sharpening and oiling the blades neatly organized to one side.

Herrick watched from the doorway as Maude sauntered into his quarters, her intelligent eyes landing on every surface as if she were committingthe room to memory. Finally, deciding the space was safe enough, she plopped down into his favorite chair by the walkout balcony.

Herrick cleared his throat. “Can I trust you not to bolt while I go change and find some clothes for you?”

“Where would I even go? I have no idea where we are,” Maude muttered, annoyance creeping into her tone once more.

“You’re not a prisoner, Maude, but I want to make sure you’re okay before I walk away for a few minutes.”

“I am not so fragile, Herrick. Do whatever you want,” she snapped.

Herrick raised an eyebrow before he smiled at her. “There you are,minn eldr.”

Maude rolled her eyes and sunk further into the chair, turning to look out the open doors to the balcony as she crossed her arms. Herrick crossed into his bedroom, taking a second to remember that he was home and breathing in the salty air of the ocean, breezing into his room. He stripped out of his dirty riding clothes and washed his face and neck quickly in the attached washroom before he donned more appropriate attire for being back at court.

When he returned to the small living area, he saw she had moved to the balcony that looked out on the sprawling city and was leaning her forearms on the balcony rail.

Herrick quickly joined her outside, needing to ask what had been bothering him.

“How did my mother know yours?”

Maude didn’t answer right away; she only continued staring out at the bustling city that was quickly shifting into its evening routine of dinners and dancing in the popular parts of town as the sun sank behind the Lamenting Woods.

“I look just like she did when she was my age,” Maude said quietly. “She had the same red hair and eyes as mine. The shape of my face and tall, curvy frame all belonged to her. I am a spitting image of her. I imagine your mother knew mine quite well if she could see past all the horrid parts of me that belong to my father to know exactly who I am.”

Disdain dripped like acid from the wordfatheras she spoke it.

“I don’t know when my mother would’ve been to the Kingdom of Rivers; all I knew about her was that she had fire like mine and was a passive wife to the king until the day she died.”

Maude’s voice cracked on the last word. She was looking out over the city when Herrick joined her at the railing, but he could see she was not present.

“She used to say our hair was red like the fire in our veins, that we burned so hot that our colors had to show on the outside. My sister, Bryn, has copper hair that curls so thickly around her face that it always looks like it's floating, like a living flame,” Maude trailed off again at the mention of her sister.

“I heard of the Queen of Flame’s passing ten years ago. I’m so sorry,” he said to her, knowing the words would do nothing to help the grief of losing a parent. “Is that why you left?”

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