The images slammed into me—dying with a knife through my stomach, a blade to the chest—and I woke up drenched in sweat. The crisp sheets mocked me with their pure whiteness as if saying: no blood here.
The nightmare stayed with me even as I sat up, imprinted on my mind as if it had violated my sleep many, many times. But around me was the glorified room—golden carvings framing a window to the glittering sea, a glaring contrast to my visions.
The door burst open. "Are you well, Lady Soledad, I heard—"
I turned. "Are you?"
"What?" Sir Sigve blinked, forgetting to close his mouth.
"Are you well?"
"I'm fine." His hand crept back to the sword.
I pushed away the hair that hung in front of my eyes. "You are not hurt? No wounds?"
"Of course not. My la—"
"Sorry, just checking—" To see, if my sanity was damaged beyond repair. "I had a nightmare," I said. The words came with ease as if rehearsed.
"I see." Sir Sigve held out his arms, face softening. "I'm perfectly fine, as you can see. We'll get some breakfast, and you'll feel better, I promise."
"Thank you." Shaking hands stilled in my lap at last.
Bolting off the ship with Sir Sigve in tow, I rushed across the harbor, through a few dense streets. Stretching further. Faster. I couldn't help it. Everywhere I laid my eyes, the view was exactly as expected. The barrels, the bumps in the pavement, the shops lining the main street. Everything was just perfect. I swallowed, reminding myself to breathe, struggling not to succumb to the bile rising to my throat. It was a nightmare, only a nightmare, a stupid dream—because what else could it be? Thunder in my heart hit my ears like drums, and it still felt like I would never reach.
"I wonder how my recruits are doing," Sir Sigve said, the clumsy attempt at conversation revealing his unease. He clenched and unclenched his hand around the hilt at his belt.
A girl waved at us, smiling as if the world was such a happy place. I had eaten an unreasonable amount of her golden honey cakes. That smell . . . one small bite would bring me to heaven for sure. Sarina's voice drifted toward me, words of "the prince" carrying on the wind. I shuddered, my stomach lurching. I had to keep moving.
The market girl looked sad as we strode past her, but I had to reach the other side of town. Even though I had no idea what waited—or perhaps did not wait—over there.
Sir Sigve kept glancing my way, a frown consolidating into his features. I pretended not to notice. Of course, that only worked for so long. "You have such vigor in your steps today, Lady Soledad, truly, you walk fast."
"Mhm." We passed the dragon statue, from which merchant eyes followed us.
"Very fast. You might, well, there is no need—"
"I'm just exercising." Up ahead was the end of the market square, where we would re-enter the narrow street and get away from stares and calls. My hair, hanging loose, covered my face, falling in my eyes even as I pushed it away. I should have braided it after all.
"Yes, I should be glad—you might resemble your portraits yet—but it's not like you." Sir Sigve's steps were brisk beside me.
"You're just getting slow, Papa." I spared him a glance. Did his crow's feet grow today?
Sir Sigve promptly scoffed and picked up his pace, looking everywhere but at me. He was so sensitive, my companion. He kicked aside a pebble in his path. "We've been rushing through the city."
"Of course. You must feel weary in your old bones, dear, poor Papa."
"I'm only thirty-six!"
A stand displaying brilliantly shining metalwork caught my eye from the reflected sun. The table contained all sorts of trinkets, jewelry, necklaces, leather belts with metal ornaments—and knives.
"I'm going to have a closer look. Please wait here?"
"Why? What are you plotting now?"
"Nothing! Well, I'm buying a gift for Madalyn, and I don't want her to know . . ."
Sir Sigve got a softer hue in his eyes, lasting less than a second. "Your sister is not here at the moment. How would she know?"
"Yes, but I don't want anyone to see it before I present it to her. Please." If this didn't work, I would have to give up. Still, a pleading voice usually did the trick. Plus, it was for my sister. He would not deny her.
Sir Sigve brightened. "I assume you intend to get home in time for Madalyn's birthday." He didn't even bother to disguise it as a question anymore.
I exhaled, forcing restless fingers to be still at my sides. Did he forget we spent over five months traveling to Fiar? "Maybe we could, if we left yesterday," I said, bypassing a few children running through the square, disappearing in an alley to our right. After fifteen years as a disappointment and two years on display, five months of freedom was simply not enough. But the plague of a dizzying, scourging city called Fiar was finished for me.
Sir Sigve sighed, kneading his fingers into an abused forehead. Perhaps he had a headache. "Very well. Go buy her the not-birthday present."
I skipped across the cobblestones to the small stall with all its shiny trinkets.
The merchant was an elderly man of leathery complexion and a graying beard, wearing one of the white hats that resembled a tangled bandage. It looked like excellent protection against the heat. Should I try it too? The seller's eyes lit up as I approached. "What can I do for you, young lady?"
"I need a knife."
"Fair lady, that's not something those delicate hands should touch. What about a beautiful necklace, how about it, miss?" He gestured to his fine assortment.
"I need a knife."
"A necklace," he said, "will look just marvelous on you. What about this? It is said to soothe the soul as well as a drop from the Desert Diamond." He held up a gem glittering as the ocean. "No? I have this one here, you see. This stone is jade, it is, a rare gem. But for you, I give a good price. Because it was made for your beautiful green eyes, eh?" He bestowed on me a blinding smile, effortlessly ignoring my request.
"Please, I only want a knife. If you cannot provide one, I'll find somewhere else."
With a piercing stare below upturned eyebrows, the man's skepticism seemed to only grow. "Now, miss, I—"
"Please." I lowered my voice, struggling to not let my feelings seep out. I tipped my head toward Sir Sigve, standing with his back to us as promised. "See, it's for my father, his birthday."
The merchant sighed, looking the full extent of his age. To have such pitying brown eyes set upon me was almost unbearable. "All right. I'll sell you a small one. Be careful, though, miss. And if you change your mind, the necklace will be here for you."
"Thank you!" My breath rushed out as I exchanged coin for knife.
The blade gleamed in the sun, with a handle of ebony and quality in every curve. Although forged as decoration or perhaps for ceremonial instances, it was excellent craftsmanship, and above all: sharp. I tucked it behind the belt of my dress, grateful for the layers of clothes hiding it from view. Sir Sigve would never let me keep it if he found out.
Lucky for me, he was true to his word, steadfastly looking elsewhere. We would finally get out of Fiar because the city was worn and crowded, and if I stayed, I would fall ill for sure.
"Finished?"
"Yes." I glanced up from wringing hands. "The merchant had a very nice necklace; it suits anyone with green eyes splendidly."
"Lady Madalyn has blue eyes."
"I'm sure she will be happy," I said.
His eyes narrowed. "I thought I wasn't supposed to know what it was?"
Right. My poor, forgotten excuse. "Uh, yeah, well, you haven't seen what it looks like yet! Just . . . don't tell her, please?"
"I can't, she's not here." Sir Sigve tapped his foot, his frown deepening in a worrying tempo.
"Good," I chirped.
He shook his head, perhaps too exasperated to doubt the smile I had refined through all my seventeen years of suffering Maya's lessons. "I assume you'll deliver this gift to Lady Madalyn on her birthday?"
"You misunderstand." On purpose too. "I'm not ready to go home."
"Of course not. This is your grand adventure." Sir Sigve rolled his eyes. "You need not travel this far to experience something new. Lady Madalyn only went to Silverberg. Remember how much she grew?"
"Yes, and stupid suitors would leave me alone in Silverberg, or Nordsletta—"
Sir Sigve grimaced.
"—or any and all of Rimdalir. I could have such a pleasant journey." I snorted. "You don't believe that. I don't believe that." I would not stand on display for them like some hunter's trophy.
"You assume a court of suitors is lurking at every turn," Sir Sigve said. "You are running. Going from place to place, not staying long enough to enjoy anything."
"I left home because I discovered my words were not enough. You know I despise them."
"No, you're fleeing," Sir Sigve insisted, "and it will do you no good. You need to face your—"
"I told you, words were not enough! My title helps even less. I'm a girl, and not a strong one. I can't fight with just a needle and thread. Can't win a physical fight."
"Did any of them—"
I shook my head. "It's fine. Well, it's not, but nothing really happened." I felt ill from the memory.
"My lady, tell me."
"It was only . . . an unpleasant conversation. Nothing more." Except his wandering hands, fingers grasping as he whispered against my ear. "I would have left someday, anyway."
Sir Sigve's brows drew tight over a glare. "You could have told us. Your father would not—"
"It's fine." I swept hair from my eyes, rubbed away the stinging sensation pushing to the surface. "When I eventually go home, I'll tell you everything. Is that acceptable?"
Sir Sigve nodded. "I can already guess who. Tell me when you're ready."
I exhaled, spotting a black cat crossing our path. Didn't such a thing bring bad luck? Maya said something on the subject once or twice, mumbling her prayers as she threw salt everywhere.
Sir Sigve looked calm, a hand coming up to quench an incoming yawn. He was not of the superstitious kind. Naturally, neither was I.