This Is What It's Like To Be Lovers [ON HOLD]

13: Won't Take Nothing But A Memory (Rewriting)

• The House That Built Me by Miranda Lambert •

The ride was, as Citra had promised, long but safe. The path that the Moon illuminated was the safest route, devoid of any wildlife that could harm them or be harmed by their presence. And by the time they reached the southern edge of the forest, the Sun was taking over. What great teamwork, Jade thought.

Jahima was shrouded by the niceties of the festival, the sounds of wheels rattling on the undulating terrain, the chatter of people, and the warm smell of rye bread. The realm waited for the approaching party with open arms and Jade was more than eager to rush into the embrace.

But there was still work to be done.

She stepped down from the bicycle seat, using her back and hips to keep the cart from rolling forward. Sweat trickled down her temple and neck and she rubbed it off with the back of her palm.

"My Queen, should I-" Citra wanted to take over but a shake of Jade's head stopped her.

When Jade hopped back on the seat, a dark pall rested over her hair and nose. She pedaled forward and let themselves other carts, carriages, and palanquins going towards Jahima.

She watched the liveliness of her people, the colorful stalls, most open and selling breakfast to the incoming tourists, and the pattolling sentries. The soldiers still wore the redwood crest on the back of their winter uniforms. They were still Jade's soldiers, not Sillia's.

If Sillia thought Jade would fall for it, she was wrong. Jade had learned her lesson.

The Queen pulled her disguise tighter and looked around. Life went on as it always did

Did they not know about their Queen's disappearance?

She remembered the Professor's note from two weeks ago, informing that the Emperor had decided against making the news of the Princess' disappearance public. But the people of Jahima must have figured out about Jade's disappearance when she didn't return as planned.

Her courtiers should have raised a ruckus

"Your Highness, it's here," she heard Citra's soft voice from behind her and pulled the tires of the bicycle to a stop. Hopping off the seat, Jade stretched her arms and legs to pop the joints that had been sitting in the same way for too long.

Once she looked up to behold the establishment they had stopped in front of, she snorted at the signboard.

Malinpuu
Omistaja: Mali
Kuningattaren puolesta

Sometimes, Jade felt that her people gave her too much credit, and celebrated her for no real reason. She knew Larimar would be giving her an earful for even thinking such things, and smiled again, at the thought of the Princess.

And for the first time, Jade raised her head to look at the sky and inhaled the musty smell people associate with rain and greenery. The sky was dark, but only because the Sun hadn't really woken up yet. Rain was still, she concluded, at least days away.

She prayed for rain to be delayed for as long as possible, for the festival would be put an end to otherwise. She sighed and walked towards the shop's door when Citra called out.

The door led her into a wooden wonderland. In the light of the dawn streaming through a window, she saw a large enough room, with the same tapestry on the walls as the house in Kalk, and a cabinet full of small wooden trinkets, ready to be sold. Behind it stood an unusually tall and burly man, with rusty hair, striking blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles over his nose and cheeks. Jade's eyes didn't halt for long near his mien but went to the wall behind him. Illuminated by a candle's light were shelves on the wall that carried numerous trinkets and tools.