Page 56 of Warrior Princess
He kissed me softly, his lips lingering with a promise of unwavering support. The room was quiet, the only sound our synchronized breathing.
“Let’s get some rest.” He pulled the blankets over us. “We’ll need our strength for tomorrow.”
As I nestled closer, the uncertainty of our mission was tempered by the security of his embrace. No matter what the next day held, being together gave us the courage to face it.
The morning dawnedclear and bright. We set out from Marsten, the horses refreshed and eager beneath us. The landscape of the Central Plains stretched out in a seemingly endless expanse of rolling hills and golden fields, the horizon occasionally broken by the silhouette of a distant forest or a lone farmhouse.
Ronan and I rode close together, our hands occasionally brushing as we adjusted our reins. Chief Aryan led our small caravan, his figure imposing even from a distance, with Shiro flanking the group in his white fox form, his fur almost glowing in the sunlight.
“We’ll be crossing into Eldwain by late afternoon if we keep this pace,” Chief Aryan called back to us over his shoulder. His voice was carried away by the wind, adding to the sense of vastness around us.
As we approached the Eldwain border, the scenery began to change. Stark plains gave way to dense woods, and the air grew cooler and tinged with a hint of something magical—perhaps due to our proximity to the land of the half-fae.
As we crossed the border, the first thing that struck me was the change in the trees. They were taller, with silver-grey trunks and leaves that shimmered with a subtle iridescence. Eldwain’s natural beauty was unlike anything in the human lands, ethereal and slightly otherworldly.
“Eldwain,” Ronan whispered next to me, his voice filled with a mix of awe and caution.
Traveling further into their lands, we started to pass small towns. Silver-haired individuals were visible in the distance, tending to the lush gardens that surrounded their homes. With finely chiseled features, their movements were graceful andseemed almost choreographed. It was clear we had entered a land where human ruggedness met fae elegance.
“We should keep to the main road and avoid unnecessary attention,” Ronan advised, scanning our surroundings with a strategic eye. “Eldwain’s hospitality is reserved mostly for their own kind, and our presence won’t go unnoticed.”
We nodded in agreement and vowed to keep a low profile as we journeyed deeper into Eldwain. The road wound through vibrant green meadows sprinkled with wildflowers and past clear streams that sang over pebbles, the tinkling melody adding to the land’s enchantment.
Despite the beauty, tension was prevalent, along with the feeling of being watched.
Shiro, who had shifted back into his human form, remained vigilant, his senses tuned to the hidden corners of the woods. “Stay alert,” he murmured, his eyes scanning the tree line. “Eldwain may be lovely, but it’s also home to many who are not fond of outsiders, just like their ancestors from Ellyndor.”
The path gradually began to ascend, leading us through a series of gentle slopes towards a higher vantage point. From there, we could see the sprawling layout of Eldwain’s capital in the distance, its spires catching the sunlight and casting long shadows across the valley below.
“We’ll rest here for a moment,” Chief Aryan decided. He dismounted near a cluster of trees. “Keep your eyes open, and let’s prepare for what might await us in the capital.”
During this brief respite, I was both excited and nervous about the days ahead. I sat on the grass with my back against a tree, trying to calm my racing thoughts. This far south, the temperature soared to warmer temperatures than we were used to in the north. Sticky sweat clung to my skin.
Proving that he was in tune with my moods and needs, Ronan approached with a waterskin and handed it to me. He grinned. “It may not be wine, but it’ll do.”
I chuckled. “I guess.” I took a big gulp.
Ronan squatted in front of me and brushed damp tendrils away from my face. “We’ll be there soon. Just hang in there,” he encouraged.
I smiled up at him. “I’m fine, Ronan. Don’t worry.”
All too soon, we climbed back onto our horses and resumed our journey to Eldwain’s capital. Ronan and Shiro stuck close to me, much to Chief Aryan’s visible displeasure.
The capital of Eldwain emerged before us like a vision from a fairytale. Nestled in a valley where silver-barked trees gave way to verdant green spaces, the city was a blend of nature and architecture, with buildings that seemed to sprout from the ground itself. Roofs were thatched with vibrant green straw, similar to the leaves of the forest, with walls constructed of smooth, light stone that shimmered under the sun’s rays.
As we inched closer, the ethereal quality of the city became even more pronounced. Waterways coursed through the city like glittering veins, with delicate bridges arching over them to connect various parts of the capital. The main road into the city was lined with lanterns hanging from intricately wrought posts, their light soft and welcoming as evening approached.
The streets of Eldwain’s capital bustled with activity. It wasn’t just the half-fae locals; there were also faces from across Asteria, marking the diverse attendance that King Alwyn’s funeral commanded. I noticed a group from Valoria, their crescent moon birthmarks distinctive even from a distance. There were also contingents from the Central Plains and even a few from the more secluded regions of Keldara, their rugged features a stark contrast to the refined elegance of the Eldwain citizens.
Market squares spread throughout the city were filled with stalls selling everything from exotic spices to intricate jewelry, each vendor showcasing the wealth of their homeland. The air was thick with the scents of cooking food, sweet perfumes, and the fresh, clean smell of Eldwain’s magical flora.
As we moved through the capital, the diversity of the crowd reminded us of the interconnectedness of Asteria’s realms. Despite the beauty and festivity of the market, there was an undercurrent of solemnity. Everyone was here to pay their respects to a king, and perhaps, to witness the unfolding of events that would inevitably follow in the wake of his passing.
“When will the funeral be held?” I asked as we neared the inn where we would lodge during our visit.
“Three days’ time,” Ronan confirmed as we dismounted our horses and tied them to the hitching post near a stable to get fed and watered.
Chief Aryan remained on his horse. “Don’t go far. I have some business to take care of. I’ll be back soon.” With a sharp snap of the reins, he trotted down the road.
