As the wagon rattled and jolted down the road, Talia held tightly to the slats behind her to keep from pitching into her neighbor's lap.
It was an odd assembly of characters the kind farmer had picked up on his way to the capitol. A hard-faced young man in patched trousers sat on a crate across from her and frowned at his feet. He had muttered something about looking for work in the capitol when the farmer offered him a ride. Beside him sprawled two young boys and a baby goat, which the boys took turns feeding from a bottle. An elderly woman with a few missing teeth and a long wooden pipe sat beside Talia and mumbled continually as she smoked. She could not understand what the woman said, but no one else in the wagon seemed to pay her any mind.
The farmer glanced back at them from his seat on the driver's bench and grinned at the two boys.
"You can see the gates now if you stand up," he called to them.
The two children almost forgot about their goat as they scrambled to stand up and look over the farmer's shoulders.
Talia frowned as she saw the imposing north gate of Torobirk for the second time. It looked like the mouth of a dragon. It was probably meant as a warning that the city of Torobirk was fierce and would swallow you whole.
Prince Mikhail had once mentioned that beneath the brass panels, the massive wooden doors were carved with two stars. She wondered if it was Emperor Mali who had ordered the doors be covered or if it was one of his descendants.
As they passed under the soaring arch and entered the city, Talia patted the lump beneath her skirt for reassurance. She had thought she'd use the dagger to steal a horse, but when she came across the kindly farmer bringing his wife's jams and pies to the city to sell, she couldn't go through with it. His worn clothing and cobbled together cart suggested that he couldn't afford to lose his only horse. She had accepted a ride instead.
The wagon stopped only a short ways from the gates and the farmer jumped down to open the back of the cart and let his passengers out.
"If you're looking for work, you might try down by the river. They're always looking for strong young fellows to help unload goods off the boats," he told the young man.
He offered his hand to the tottering old woman and helped her climb down next. She mumbled something to him that made the farmer smile before she hobbled off. Talia climbed out next.
"The East District is a bit of a walk from here," he warned her. "You'll want to keep the river to your right until you come to Hogshead Bridge. If you follow Wulham High Street, it'll take you all the way to the bridge," he explained as he helped her down.
"You're very kind," Talia said.
"Not at all. Good deeds have a way of coming back to a person. Besides, my wife is a Vezdan girl and you remind me a little bit of her when she was young," he said and grinned. "Here." He pressed a silver coin into her hand. "For something to eat," he explained.
Before Talia could protest, he had already turned to help the boys and their goat out of the wagon.
Talia frowned to herself as she joined the crowd of merchants and laborers entering the city.
In Vezda, Unarians had seemed to her to be a nameless, faceless throng of enemies. Glancing around herself now, she saw friends embracing, mothers chasing their playful children out of the streets, street sellers calling out to hawk their wares... she saw the same sort of daily life she saw in Vezda.
It was far easier to hate people you only thought of as different.
Her father had once declared that the trouble with Unarians wasn't that they were inherently bad people, there are bad people in every country and empire. The trouble with Unaria was that bad people were rewarded and given power and influence over others.
In Vezda, it was often said that a man who desired power was the least suited to have it. It meant that only weak or fearful people chased after positions of authority or prestige-- the sort of men or women who knew deep down that they weren't as good as others but thought that more money or titles or power would hide that truth, or maybe even convince the person themself that they were better than others.
No, in Vezda, an appointment to a position of authority was generally thought of as a burden, and was always initially rejected- though Oleg pointed out that it was more of a tradition than a true rejection. Everyone knew the first rejection was never accepted.
The exception, of course, was the royal house of Eosin. One could not refuse the crown- though Oleg had looked uncomfortable on the day of his coronation, and even Ora had cried the night before she became queen.
Talia sighed as she slipped the coin into the pocket of her skirt and found the road that the farmer had pointed out.
She thought of Prince Mikhail again as she walked, wondering if he had returned from the north, or if he had encountered trouble there. Perhaps part of the reason she'd grown to feel close to him was that there was something Vezdan about his mindset. He never seemed to take any special satisfaction or pride in his lineage or command. He called his brother 'the Emperor' even when he was among his closest companions. He appeared annoyed or bothered by the attention he received and even in the midst of heavy fighting, he led his men to the battlelines from the front instead of from behind.
It had occurred to her on the road from Napolanva that she might not see the Prince again. The Emperor could decide to revert to the original terms of the Treaty and execute her. He could negotiate her exile to one of the seven kingdoms, or even... even offer her what he had offered Ora. Perhaps Fioria and Ilya had been correct in assuming that the Emperor only wanted her blood. She had always suspected that he knew something about the blood of House Eosin and the marks on both the Prince and his servant seemed to confirm her suspicions. Though she didn't completely understand what they meant, she had long since learned to recognize blood magic.
At any rate, she would not allow herself to feel disappointed. Not over the Prince. The man had rejected her and left without a word. He wasn't worth her thoughts... though in every unguarded moment her thoughts seemed to fly directly to that man--
But not this time, she decided. Now she had more important things to consider. She was fast approaching Hogshead Bridge, which meant that the Road of the Setting Sun would be on the other side. She would soon be among Vezdans... loyal Vezdans, the tavern woman had said. Perhaps there was a resistance of some sort, perhaps they had spies and were in contact with Sir Aron...
Or perhaps she had better not set herself up for another disappointment! It would be enough help if they could simply find her some decent clothes to wear to the palace and tell her which of the seven kingdoms had allied themselves with Vezda.
Talia hurried across the bridge, not sparing a glance for the swiftly flowing water below or the boats of foreign merchants sailing through the city.
The East side of the river was oddly deserted. The streets went from throngs of people to only a few shady looking men loitering in doorways or hurrying past her with their heads down.
Even the businesses seemed deserted. Windows were shuttered, and doors were closed. No one stood outside calling out for customers... and yet new lanterns hung from every post, and several businesses had freshly painted signs and fancy ironwork railings and gates.
It was an odd sort of place to be sure, and she was glad for the dagger concealed beneath her skirt. She paused to look again for the numbers on the buildings and was dismayed to discover that both all of them had numbers. She continued to walk until she read the number 36 attached to a gate post and then counted the doors.
Number 27 was unmarked. There was a sign outside the small brick building with a woman's name scrawled across it in red letters. It did not say what the business was.
The wide entryway was decorated with two large stone urns full of red flowers.
Talia squared her shoulders and marched up the short flight of stairs to the door. She rapped firmly upon it and stepped back to wait.
When the door opened to reveal a short, dark-haired woman with blue eyes that stared suspiciously at her, Talia did her best to smile.
"Hello," she said. "May I come in?"