Kingdom of Zuland, City of Belfire, Present day.
Sara and Myn reached the housing district of Belfire just the sun awoke from its eastern bed. The night's snowfall was coming to an end as only a few flakes glided down.
The entire district was on an incline with a large staircase that snaked down to the lower districts. Above them was the royal district which is where the nobles housing was located alongside the Grezeit Castle. Below them, past the homes was the market district.
Sara rarely traversed farther than the noble domain due to her father's restrictions in the past. But now that she was once again a member of the council, such limits would no longer apply.
Myn walked beside her, his eyes darted about. He would occasionally arch his head around to catch a glimpse of their flank, at the ready for any sudden dangers.
Sara walked towards the leftmost home on the snaking stairway. She had spoken with multiple of the scribes to learn the names of the guards that died on the day of her coronation ceremony, as well as the whereabouts of where the men lived and who their next of kin were. The information was easy to come by as it was customary for the scribes of Belfire to note who lived in which homes during different eras. It was a type of chronicle kept for the loyal subjects of Zuland.
Myn gave her a slight nod, sign that no dangers lurked about. It was no surprise as the lower streets were empty account of it being daybreak.
They reached the home. A basic wooden home with its clay rooftop covered in a thin blanket of snow.
Sara felt a clutch at her throat as a wave of anxiety aided the wind in sending shivers down her spine. The delivery of the one's passing was always delivered to the family alongside the payment for their burial by the scribes. Though this time she wished to give more to the families, perhaps it was selfish of her, as she felt doing so would wash away the stain of shame.
Sara jumped as Myn rested his hand on her shoulder. She looked back at him with the desire to simply leave. "Thank you, Myn" She pushed open the frost-covered gate that stood between her and the home.
The parchment-thin ice made the stone pavement glisten elegantly.
Sara inhaled and neared the entrance.
~0~
Sara took a glance around the home as she took a drink from an elegant porcelain teacup. The home was very dark with the abundance of candlelight. The silhouettes of the dusty furniture resembled the shapes of monsters.
The scent of englia tea leaves hung in the air.
"I hope the tea is to your liking, Lady," said the wrinkled woman before her.
Sara took in another small sip, careful not to burn herself. It had a very salty taste to it, though it was challenged by the overburdening amount of creamrose. The bittersweet brew warmed her throat. "It is, thank you…D'luka, was it?"
"Yes," answered the woman. There was a hush in her voice as she circled the small fire at the center of the room.
"I," said Sara. "I wanted—"
"There is no need," interrupted D'luka. "Your scribes have already come to visit me and tell me of my son's passing."
Sara frowned.
D'luka drank from her matching cup. "They told me that my family's sacrifice would not be forgotten." She took a seat across from Sara.
Sara leaned in and held the cup at her lap. "His service to the kingdom will not be forgotten, and I personally wanted to inform you that anyone in your family as well as any future heirs will be given primacy and status." Sara reached for her waist and revealed a pouch of gold pieces. "And I understand this cannot weigh against the loss of your son though I believe your family is owed." She held her gift in an open palm.
D'luka shook her head. "I do not require that, Lady." She sighed. "Notice, Lady that I am too old to make use of that. I also will not bear any more children, a promise that I wouldn't raise a child fatherless." She turned and pointed to a painting behind her.
The painting had eluded Sara until now, as it was partly hidden by the darkness. It was an elegant painting of four young men, all of which wore graceful clothes and smiles.
"A painting of my sons. The Goddess Kailarah granted me four beautiful boys. They were a gift to me…for my happiness. She has now taken two of what is rightfully hers."
Sara's heart sank with the woman's every word, a light twitch on her lip.
"I did not wish for my sons to live shorter lives than I. But we are all not without flaws and must be grateful for any amount of time that is given to us. As am I, knowing that my son was a brave guard of the Zuland guard." She reached out and grasped the princess' hand.
Sara felt a sense of closure as the woman gently rubbed at her hand, it reminded her of her mother.
"Give that money to another who's son was returned to the All-Mother. They will need it for the payment of the committal. Do you promise me this, Lady?"
Sara tried not to look into the woman's somber eyes as it only served to stoke her remorse. "I promise," she echoed.
~0~
The visits to the remaining families proved to be equally as challenging to the first. Though D'luka's wisdom helped with fighting back the threat of tears. Sara had reached the home at the edge of the district. This was the home of Skal, the man that attempted to take her life. According to his neighboring citizens, he was a very kind man. Though after his daughter's death, he had rarely been seen outside of his home and remained to himself.
The home resembled the rest of the buildings in its architecture. A large rectangular base with a silo-like portion of the home attached to the left of the home. The otherwise black tiles of the home were draped by snow.
Sara made her way to the home's entrance and turned back to her companion. "Myn, stay here."
He let out a displeased growl.
"I'll be fine alone," she assured.
Myn wore a frown as he took position beside the door, as he did with before when she had chosen to talk to the family of the victims alone.
Sara gave a gentle push to the splintered wood and to her surprise it creaked open. She felt it, the uncanny sense of a familiar steel. There was no doubt that it was the same type she had felt the day of her ceremony; it was strong enough to overpower the stench of dried ale that filled the home. She let her addon to the steel guide her through the dark, careful not to fall over many of the scattered books or empty bottles that decorated the floor.
The howl of the wind outside grew louder as small pebbles tapped on the fogged windows. The entire home groaned as if in pain.
Shivers ran down Sara's spine as the eerie sounds bounced off the walls. Her attachment to the steel grew stronger as she approached the end of the room, an area cramped with dusty wardrobes and chairs. What happened here? She could almost taste the bitter steel on her tongue as she pulled open the wardrobe. Before her, laying on a bed of old ragged clothes was a golden pendant— No. The answer she was looking for.