RAVEN

CHAPTER 8

Duchy of Marinet

The first couple of weeks with Madam Chandler as Raven's governess were strangely easy to adjust to. She was stern, punctual but somehow she understood the way Raven's mind worked. Though she had less time for herself now that she had a tutor, the lessons weren't as bad as she had initially thought.

Sure, Alistair had to bear the brunt of her stepping on his toes during dance classes, and she messed up the needlework a few times in embroidery, but Raven breezed through the other subjects with flying colors.

Presently, she was awakened from her reverie by the abrupt jolt of the carriage. Alistair, who decided to join her field trip with Governess Chandler, was busy chattering about the most random of things. Raven could have helped share the burden of dealing with Alistair for her governess, but she'd rather listen than speak.

"Madam Chandler, why bother bringing us to Marinet?" Alistair inquired.

"To see the people — their way of life," said Lucille, shaking her newspaper as she spoke. "You can't expect to one day run this place without knowing what your people need, do you? You're much older than your sister, but I doubt you had a chance to walk down those streets and have a conversation with them. Even if you did go out, the carriage would have dropped you right at the front of the store, and you would have walked in, done your shopping, and gone back home. That's hardly what you call knowing your territory."

Speechless, Alistair shared a look with Raven and thought about it while Lucille read her newspaper, the Grimsby Telegraph. While chasing her thoughts, Raven's eyes wandered out the carriage window, taking in the flashes of emerald green whizzing by in a blur; gradually thinning out till it broadened into a flourishing meadow.

Her range of activities had been limited to within the boundaries of the Bloodvich Estate. This was the first time she had come up close and personal with the world outside.

Lucille sighed, "It's getting worse." She folded her newspaper and placed it on her lap.

"What's getting worse?" Alistair asked before he could stop himself.

"Our nation's diplomatic relations with Tithén. The king's gone mad — at least from what I heard. It won't be long before he would need to pass the throne to his son. But the kid's too young to bear such responsibility on his shoulders."

Raven turned back to face her, "I thought King Dantés was doing well. What changed?"

"The man's growing older. He's almost 73, I reckon. One day, your parents will grow old too, and then you and your brother will have to take care of the duchy in their stead."

At this moment, the wheels of the horse-drawn carriage came to a stop, and the three stepped out.

"Now, come along."

Lucille led the way, her cane clicking along the cobbles. The bell tower bonged, bringing to life the sights and sounds of the bustling street lined with shops on either side. Raven had never been to Marinet before and although Alistair had gone a few times, he obviously was not used to getting around the commoner way.

"Where do you think she'll take us?" He muttered as they walked past a crowd of kids gathering around a cloth puppet performing on a makeshift stage. "Haven't seen that before."

Stores were selling freshly baked goods, curious-looking bobs and trinkets, frilled dresses, and posh suits displayed on glass windows. A soft mewl came from a cat-like creature sitting on the shoulders of a plump woman ahead of them.