The Capital, Kingdom of Goll
We spent the night at Poll's Inn, a rather large establishment which could pass off for a castle, which was just inside the city gates. It was quite crowded but we were able to secure the last two rooms at an unfortunately hefty price.
"Why is this place so full?" I asked my father.
"The annual military parade is in a week, so people all over the land have come to witness the celebration" he replied. Oh yes, the all-so-amazing military parade. That event was a breeding ground for thieves and petty criminals. It was such a big event that anyone could get away with anything due to the large crowds, the marches and the countless performers. This event was not as formal as the name claimed it to be.
So, the man wanted me to get married at the busiest time of the year. How convenient. It was the worst time of the year to get married since most people were too busy preparing for the festival to attend a wedding. I guess it's just going to be a quiet affair. A small wedding was going to be so depressing.
I wondered what sort of Gollian merchant would purposely want a quiet wedding. It was unnatural. Those sorts of people loved to flash their wealth.
"Rebecca!"
I whipped around to see my mother looking annoyed with me. What did I do now?
"I've been trying to hand you your room keys but clearly you're hell bent on continuing to ignore us!"
"It - I -um," I floundered, trying to defend myself. They were calling me the whole time?
My mother was not impressed. "Just take the keys and I hope that you wake up with a better attitude."
I took the keys and quietly made my way through the raucous travelers to my room. It was a simple place, with a bed, dresser and wash basin. Nothing too fancy. I used the water jug to wash my face and I got ready for bed.
As I combed through my thick curls, I contemplated what to do next. I could run away, but where to? I couldn't really blend into the crowds because well, my complexion didn't really make the cut. And my hair, was a bit on the curlier side of the spectrum.
Perhaps I could go to Basilica and see where my father came from? But that would require money for the ship and an actual possible plan of what to do there. I didn't even know anything about my father's family. Besides, how could I truly blend in? My mother's Gollian blood probably made me too light.
I let out a deep sigh and placed my comb on the dresser.
My only option now was to hang tight and see where it leads. Maybe the merchant would be kind and call off the engagement when he could see how much I did not want to do this. I just pray to the Creator that he would be a reasonable man.
But why should I have to go through this at all? My husband was Cyrus and he should be with me right now.
Where the hell was he?
The rest of the night was fitful as all I could think about was Cyrus. I thought my wedding with him would be the first and the last. I felt like I was betraying him. Maybe he was truly dead. Perhaps he really wasn't coming back. My heart twisted in agony at the thought. I didn't even say goodbye...
Where are those sleeping potions when you need them?
~
We were having breakfast downstairs when my father told us the day's itinerary.
"Right, so as soon as we're done here, we're putting our bags back in the coach and will make our way to our lodgings in the city centre, which is above the jewellery shop. if you must know Rebecca." He was about to continue but I cut him off.
"Wait, why didn't we stay there last night instead of here?" I asked, honestly perplexed.
"Because Rebecca, there are ruthless thieves that roam the night and our destination is two hours away by coach from the city gates; so, it's dangerous,"
"This isn't Tristia darling," my mother supplied.
Well, could they blame me for asking? This was my first time here since I was five years old. Since then, they would always say long trips would interrupt my schooling. Then I got married and they got a bit distant. I had always assumed that they never really liked my relationship with Cyrus, though to any other onlooker they seemed supportive enough. Well, their previous behaviour would explain their actions now.
When I kept quiet my father took it as his cue to carry on. "As I was saying, we go to our apartment and then unpack our bags. But I wouldn't unpack too much if I were you Rebecca," he said looking at me, "You are moving in with Mister Silverstone in roughly a week so its better to live out of your trunk,"
That's it, I couldn't do it. How on earth did they expect me to just live with a man I barely knew. Why did this have to happen so quickly?
"But I don't get it! What is the rush? Why now? We've barely just got here and we're basically about to buy wedding dresses! I don't want this! I never have! Why can't we just go back to the way life was?" I pleaded.
"Becky," my mother said, grasping my trembling hand, "Trust me when I say this, what we're doing right now, is for the best," Her hazel eyes peered right into mine. She was acting like my life depended on this marriage. What aren't they telling me?
Either way, it didn't matter. I knew at least one of the reasons why they wanted this to happen quickly.
"Well, I suppose it is the best way to get your drug-dependent, disappointment of a daughter out of your perfect little house," I remarked snidely. I knew I wounded her by what I said, but I still felt betrayed. My mother had put up this caring act for the past two years only to kick me out of the house at the first opportunity. So yes, I felt betrayed.
But my mother looked so hurt by my remark, I found myself apologising. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for," That's the annoying thing about loving someone. Even if they hurt you, you would never want to intentionally hurt them back. Or maybe I'm just being weak.
"It's alright," she amended, "I can see that you're upset, but please don't let your emotions consume you; it won't end well," Was that a warning of some sort?
"Especially tonight Becca," my father said sternly, "For we are meeting Mister Silverstone tonight for a dinner party at his house, so please be on your best behaviour," He looked stressed out and tired. Was I that much of a problem? With that thought on my mind, I left the table to take my bags to the coach. As for me being well behaved, I guess we'll see about that.