A/N - Sorry for the late update! Because my family starts school next week (I'm homeschooled), I've been cleaning the house and getting everything ready this week. So there's not going to be a new chapter on Friday, as it will take me longer to write it since I have so little free time right now. But I will try to update the World Of Shattered Throne on Friday! I'm really sorry for the delays, everyone! :(
"Are we ready to go?" I ask Eliza while I'm reading in the parlor. No answer. I look up from my book and find that she's left the room.
I stand up from the long, velvet chaise where I was sitting, leave the parlor. I venture down the hall into the kitchen and find Eliza sitting on the floor in front of a large trunk, her hands covered in white powder.
"Hello! Sorry for leaving, I needed to unpack the cooking supplies. Apparently, there was a hole in the flour bag!"
"Oh, no problem. When do you want to leave?"
"Let me clean up, and then we'll go. Your hatbox is the yellow one. On the table. And could you bring me mine?" She gestures to the dining room adjacent to the kitchen, and I leave.
I bring the boxes into the kitchen, and Eliza looks good as new.
"Okay, thank you," she says, grabbing her box from me. "I thought yellow flowers on your hat would look nice."
"Let me guess, your flowers are purple?"
She nods sheepishly before replying. "I'm quite predictable, am I not?"
"Not necessarily. You tend to keep me on my toes most of the time. It's why I like you."
"Um, thanks. We should go." She's blushing.
That's strange, I think. Nevertheless, I don't question it, and we put on our hats and head out the door. Two guards who were stationed by the door follow us. We decide to walk, as the McKinsleys don't live far from the estate.
After a few minutes, I ask Eliza, "How are we going to shake our guards? It's not like they'll keep our conspiring a secret."
"Relax. There are more rebels than you think. Especially in the palace. Almost all of the staff is against the crown. Or more specifically, your parents. And these two," she says, looking behind us, "know our entire itinerary for this trip."
"I had no idea! Sorry, I'm new to this."
New to people knowing of my allegiance. New to talking about it freely.
"Anyways, you're going to love Cass. I can't wait for you to meet her!"
"Cass?" I ask, looking puzzled.
"Cassia McKinsley. Age nineteen, and my childhood best friend. I haven't seen her in years."
We walk for what seems like hours, but I don't mind.
I've seen the ocean, its waters stretching to the end of the earth. But I have never seen the sky look so wide, its blue expanse only being touched by the tallest trees, reaching up into the water of the heavens.
I always thought that the land outside the gates would be ugly, its grass burnt by the sunlight, and gnarled tree roots hiding in the ground. But I was right, in a way. It is not beautiful here. It's ethereal.
+++
Even though it felt like we had been walking for what seemed like an eternity, it couldn't have been more than half an hour. And when we reached the grey farmhouse, I couldn't have been more tired.
"You should take long walks more often, Eira," Eliza said to me, but she sounded out of breath as well. "Then you might be more used to them."
"You're one to talk. You sound like you can hardly breathe," I remind her.
We walked up to the door and she knocked twice. A girl, who I assumed was Cassia, opened it and invited us in.
The inside was plain-looking, its walls painted a simple taupe color. But Cassia was the opposite. She was wearing a yellow shirt and light denim overalls that she had covered in paintings of flowers and leaves.
"You're Cassia, right? I like your overalls! Did you paint them yourself?"
"That's me, but call me Cass. Everyone does." She says, winking. "And thanks! But my little sister painted them, actually."
"She's very talented. I'd love to meet her!" I say brightly.
"Here's your chance! Wen, come here. The princess would like to meet you."
A girl who looks to be about fourteen walks towards us from the end of the hall.
"This is Wendy," Cass explains.
"Your highness," Wendy greets me, sinking into a curtsy.
"No name for the curtsy or the title. I'm Eira."
She looks to her sister in disbelief, before saying quickly, "I'm sorry! It's just that you're so nice."
"Well, she's no saint. But she sure is the black sheep of the family." Eliza says to her, and I laugh.
"Very true. Anyways, yeah. I'm nice enough." I say before continuing.
"But then again, I'm not necessarily here to inspect farmland and ledgers."
"You're a rebel, aren't you?" Wendy asks me.
"In a manner of speaking," I reply.
"Well, I think that's enough pleasantries. Let's go sit down." Cass says quickly. She leads us down the hall into a small room next to the kitchen. We sit down at a large rectangular table and Mrs. McKinsley brings us a pitcher of water and some glasses before joining us at the table.
"The thing is, while I am only here to visit the rebel base," I say while making air-quotes with my hands, "My parents doesn't know that. So I will need some information about your farm. Is that alright?"
"Of course. What do you need to know?" Mrs. McKinsley asks.
"Let's see. Your main exports, and the average amount you produce of those main exports. That should be all."
"I don't know much about that, but Cass will tell you what you need. In the meantime, I should go start dinner. Will you two be joining us?" She asks.
I look to Eliza and she says, "We've unfortunately made other arrangements, but we can join you tomorrow evening if you'd like."
"That works, no problem. It's about time you sat at our table again, Elizabeth. Wendy, dear, would you help me with dinner?"
Wendy nods before following her mother into the kitchen.
"Let me grab a pen and a sheet of paper, and then let's get down to business, shall we?" Cass says before leaving Eliza and myself in silence.
"They seem nice," I remark.
"They are. After all these years, I forgot how wonderful they are."
I say nothing in return, and we are plunged into silence once again.
"Okay, I'm back! We specialize in fruit, and our main exports are apples, lein melons, oranges, and lemons." She writes this down on the paper and says, "Here. I wrote down our average amount of produce on there, too."
She pushes the paper in my direction. Apples 57 lbs./25.8 kg.
Lein Melons 86 lbs./39 kg.
Oranges 61 lbs./27.6 kg.
Lemons 53 lbs./24 kg.
"I hope I got the math right." She says as I read it.
"It looks like you did. And it is getting late, so we should be getting back. We'll see you tomorrow, Cass." We stand up from our chairs and walk into the kitchen, where we say goodbye to Mrs. McKinsley and Wendy.
Cass walks us to the door and I thank her for her help.
"Anytime. It was nice meeting you, Eira! I'll see you two tomorrow."
Elizabeth hugs her quickly, and we step out onto the front porch. Our guards give us a curt nod before walking briskly behind us.
"What are our other arrangements?" I ask her.
"I brought a loaf of bread, cheese, and some leftover roast from the palace kitchens. My thought is that we make some pretty great sandwiches."
The idea must have given me a sudden burst of energy because the walk back didn't seem to last forever. When we got back, we raced through the door into the kitchen. Eliza cuts the bread into enough slices to feed us as well as our guards, and we make our sandwiches.
"You are a genius," I tell her with my mouth full of sandwich.
"I can't take all the credit. The roast beef did its fair share of the work." She replies, before taking her first bite of a sandwich.
"Alright. I may be getting close to genius level." She says, and I laugh in reply.
And this could be the sandwich talking, but this place really does seem to be perfect.
"Are we ready to go?" I ask Eliza while I'm reading in the parlor. No answer. I look up from my book and find that she's left the room.
I stand up from the long, velvet chaise where I was sitting, leave the parlor. I venture down the hall into the kitchen and find Eliza sitting on the floor in front of a large trunk, her hands covered in white powder.
"Hello! Sorry for leaving, I needed to unpack the cooking supplies. Apparently, there was a hole in the flour bag!"
"Oh, no problem. When do you want to leave?"
"Let me clean up, and then we'll go. Your hatbox is the yellow one. On the table. And could you bring me mine?" She gestures to the dining room adjacent to the kitchen, and I leave.
I bring the boxes into the kitchen, and Eliza looks good as new.
"Okay, thank you," she says, grabbing her box from me. "I thought yellow flowers on your hat would look nice."
"Let me guess, your flowers are purple?"
She nods sheepishly before replying. "I'm quite predictable, am I not?"
"Not necessarily. You tend to keep me on my toes most of the time. It's why I like you."
"Um, thanks. We should go." She's blushing.
That's strange, I think. Nevertheless, I don't question it, and we put on our hats and head out the door. Two guards who were stationed by the door follow us. We decide to walk, as the McKinsleys don't live far from the estate.
After a few minutes, I ask Eliza, "How are we going to shake our guards? It's not like they'll keep our conspiring a secret."
"Relax. There are more rebels than you think. Especially in the palace. Almost all of the staff is against the crown. Or more specifically, your parents. And these two," she says, looking behind us, "know our entire itinerary for this trip."
"I had no idea! Sorry, I'm new to this."
New to people knowing of my allegiance. New to talking about it freely.
"Anyways, you're going to love Cass. I can't wait for you to meet her!"
"Cass?" I ask, looking puzzled.
"Cassia McKinsley. Age nineteen, and my childhood best friend. I haven't seen her in years."
We walk for what seems like hours, but I don't mind.
I've seen the ocean, its waters stretching to the end of the earth. But I have never seen the sky look so wide, its blue expanse only being touched by the tallest trees, reaching up into the water of the heavens.
I always thought that the land outside the gates would be ugly, its grass burnt by the sunlight, and gnarled tree roots hiding in the ground. But I was right, in a way. It is not beautiful here. It's ethereal.
+++
Even though it felt like we had been walking for what seemed like an eternity, it couldn't have been more than half an hour. And when we reached the grey farmhouse, I couldn't have been more tired.
"You should take long walks more often, Eira," Eliza said to me, but she sounded out of breath as well. "Then you might be more used to them."
"You're one to talk. You sound like you can hardly breathe," I remind her.
We walked up to the door and she knocked twice. A girl, who I assumed was Cassia, opened it and invited us in.
The inside was plain-looking, its walls painted a simple taupe color. But Cassia was the opposite. She was wearing a yellow shirt and light denim overalls that she had covered in paintings of flowers and leaves.
"You're Cassia, right? I like your overalls! Did you paint them yourself?"
"That's me, but call me Cass. Everyone does." She says, winking. "And thanks! But my little sister painted them, actually."
"She's very talented. I'd love to meet her!" I say brightly.
"Here's your chance! Wen, come here. The princess would like to meet you."
A girl who looks to be about fourteen walks towards us from the end of the hall.
"This is Wendy," Cass explains.
"Your highness," Wendy greets me, sinking into a curtsy.
"No name for the curtsy or the title. I'm Eira."
She looks to her sister in disbelief, before saying quickly, "I'm sorry! It's just that you're so nice."
"Well, she's no saint. But she sure is the black sheep of the family." Eliza says to her, and I laugh.
"Very true. Anyways, yeah. I'm nice enough." I say before continuing.
"But then again, I'm not necessarily here to inspect farmland and ledgers."
"You're a rebel, aren't you?" Wendy asks me.
"In a manner of speaking," I reply.
"Well, I think that's enough pleasantries. Let's go sit down." Cass says quickly. She leads us down the hall into a small room next to the kitchen. We sit down at a large rectangular table and Mrs. McKinsley brings us a pitcher of water and some glasses before joining us at the table.
"The thing is, while I am only here to visit the rebel base," I say while making air-quotes with my hands, "My parents doesn't know that. So I will need some information about your farm. Is that alright?"
"Of course. What do you need to know?" Mrs. McKinsley asks.
"Let's see. Your main exports, and the average amount you produce of those main exports. That should be all."
"I don't know much about that, but Cass will tell you what you need. In the meantime, I should go start dinner. Will you two be joining us?" She asks.
I look to Eliza and she says, "We've unfortunately made other arrangements, but we can join you tomorrow evening if you'd like."
"That works, no problem. It's about time you sat at our table again, Elizabeth. Wendy, dear, would you help me with dinner?"
Wendy nods before following her mother into the kitchen.
"Let me grab a pen and a sheet of paper, and then let's get down to business, shall we?" Cass says before leaving Eliza and myself in silence.
"They seem nice," I remark.
"They are. After all these years, I forgot how wonderful they are."
I say nothing in return, and we are plunged into silence once again.
"Okay, I'm back! We specialize in fruit, and our main exports are apples, lein melons, oranges, and lemons." She writes this down on the paper and says, "Here. I wrote down our average amount of produce on there, too."
She pushes the paper in my direction.
Apples 57 lbs./25.8 kg.
Lein Melons 86 lbs./39 kg.
Oranges 61 lbs./27.6 kg.
Lemons 53 lbs./24 kg.
"I hope I got the math right." She says as I read it.
"It looks like you did. And it is getting late, so we should be getting back. We'll see you tomorrow, Cass." We stand up from our chairs and walk into the kitchen, where we say goodbye to Mrs. McKinsley and Wendy.
Cass walks us to the door and I thank her for her help.
"Anytime. It was nice meeting you, Eira! I'll see you two tomorrow."
Elizabeth hugs her quickly, and we step out onto the front porch. Our guards give us a curt nod before walking briskly behind us.
"What are our other arrangements?" I ask her.
"I brought a loaf of bread, cheese, and some leftover roast from the palace kitchens. My thought is that we make some pretty great sandwiches."
The idea must have given me a sudden burst of energy because the walk back didn't seem to last forever. When we got back, we raced through the door into the kitchen. Eliza cuts the bread into enough slices to feed us as well as our guards, and we make our sandwiches.
"You are a genius," I tell her with my mouth full of sandwich.
"I can't take all the credit. The roast beef did its fair share of the work." She replies, before taking her first bite of a sandwich.
"Alright. I may be getting close to genius level." She says, and I laugh in reply.
And this could be the sandwich talking, but this place really does seem to be perfect.