Heir of Amber and Fire by Rachanee Lumayno (non fiction books to read TXT) 📗

any of them. I was tired, dusty, and extremely thirsty. Rufan had packed a small waterskin in my pack along with some other food, but I had finished the contents hours ago.

Just when I thought I couldn’t walk another step, I saw a modest farmstead up the road. I quickened my pace. Before approaching the door, I shook the dust out of my dress as best as I could, and tried to straighten my hair.

My knock was greeted with a boisterous, “Yes, yes, I’m coming!”

The door swung open abruptly. A tall, lean man was on the other side. His brown hair and beard were beginning to show signs of gray.

“Good evening, sir,” I said. “I’m on my way to Orchwell and need a place to stay for the night. I wondered if you had an extra room I might rent?”

“Who is it, Marchand?” A woman with a baby on her hip came to the door. She was nearly as tall as her husband. A little girl clung to the woman’s skirts, thumb in her small mouth. When I smiled at the little girl, she hid behind her mother, then peeked out from behind her mother’s legs and shyly smiled back at me.

“It’s a traveler, Asra,” he told her. To me, he said, “What’s your name, girl?”

“Allayne.”

“Come on in,” he said. He stepped back to allow me in.

“Thank you,” I said, a bit surprised. I thought I would have to apply more persuasion, but perhaps they were used to entertaining strangers from the road.

“We’re happy to help those traveling by,” Asra said, confirming my hunch. “It’s always nice to meet new people. And it’s a great way to get news from the kingdoms.”

“Today’s been an exciting day though,” Marchand said. “In addition to your visit, riders from Calia passed through earlier.”

“They passed me on the road earlier today,” I said. “It seems the princess is getting married?”

“That’s what they said,” Marchand confirmed. “To Prince Anders of Rothschan. The king’s riders are bringing invitations to the royalty and nobles of neighboring kingdoms.”

“What a celebration it will be! Can you imagine, all those fancies in one place?” Asra said, shaking her head. “I don’t think anyone invited would dare turn down King Hendon’s invitation. And with Prince Anders set to become the next king of Calia, no one would want to anger Rothschan either.”

“Prince Anders would become king of Calia?” I asked, confused. I had assumed that a marriage to Prince Anders meant I would leave Calia and move to Rothschan to eventually become queen there.

“Prince Anders is a second son,” Marchand said. “The Crown Prince of Rothschan is in good health and just married a year ago. His wife is expecting a child. The possibility that Prince Anders could inherit the throne of Rothschan is slim.”

I had vaguely remembered hearing something about this, but as King Hendon didn’t think that politics was something for a princess to learn, I hadn’t really paid attention. I now began to wonder if the king had kept me in the dark deliberately.

I was also surprised to learn that the king was fine with Prince Anders eventually taking his place. No one lives forever, of course, but Hendon wasn’t the type to happily acquiesce power. By marrying me off to Anders, the king would be somewhat closer to his homeland of Rothschan by alliance, but his power would remain firmly in Calia.

“A royal wedding will be good for business, I hope,” said Asra. “We’ll have to dip into our stores to supply it, but it will be worth it. Ah, well, enough gossip. I’ll go get your room ready.”

I gave her a small smile, feeling guilty that my escape might potentially cause them misfortune. Asra, along with the two children, walked down a hallway toward the back of the house.

I stood at the door awkwardly. Marchand said conversationally, “So you’re headed to Orchwell, eh? You must be coming from Calia, then? I bet the kingdom is busy with preparations for the wedding, yes?”

“They will be soon,” I said, trying to be truthful without giving too much away. “Since it was just announced, no preparations are truly underway yet.”

“Are you from Calia? What will you be doing in Orchwell?”

Luckily, I was spared from answering by Marchand’s daughter. The little girl came bounding down the hall and stopped just a few feet from us. “Momma told me to tell you and the lady that the room is ready,” she said to her father. Her message delivered, she promptly stuck her thumb in her mouth again.

Marchand laughed and picked up his daughter. She giggled as he swung her around. Balancing the little girl on one side, he pointed with his free hand. “Just go down the hall, second room on the left,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said, and walked in the direction he pointed.

Asra was tweaking the coverlet when I walked into the bedroom. It was a simple room, with plain white walls and a brightly colored quilt on the bed.

“What a beautiful quilt,” I commented.

Asra turned around, saw me, and beamed proudly. “My mother and I made that together when Marchand and I were engaged. It was weeks of hard work, but spending the time with my mother made it worthwhile. Even if I pricked my finger more than I care to admit. I’m sure there are still bloodstains on the fabric,” she finished, laughing.

I laughed with her, but my mirth was tinged with sadness. I wondered when I’d be back with my mother, working on a project together or even just drinking tea and talking.

Asra saw the tightness in my face and thankfully mistook it for something else. “I’m sure you’re tired after your journey,” she said. “There’s a pitcher and bowl on the nightstand to wash up. Do you need anything else?”

“If it’s not too much trouble, something to eat and drink would be lovely.”

“Of course. I’ll bring something by in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

Asra bustled out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

I surveyed the