Catarina's Fortune

Part III

Catarina awoke to sunlight and the absence of the sounds of rain and thunder, instead replaced by faint, cheerful strains of birdsong. She sat up and discovered that someone had covered her with a blanket and tucked a pillow under her head during the night. She wondered if the innkeeper had taken pity on her after all. She also discovered that Frankfurt was missing, no doubt having ventured off to catch some mice. Just then, as she was smoothing her skirt and straightening the blanket-shawl around her shoulders, the door to the room swung open, and the tall young man stepped out into the hall. He looked greatly recovered, appearing deeply refreshed after the night before, although he was still dressed in the same ratty clothes.

When his crystal-blue gaze alighted on her, his expression transformed into one of embarrassed remorse. "I owe you an apology," he said, his gaze flickering over her shawl and dress instead of meeting her eyes. "It was impolite of me to refuse you the room last night. I'm afraid the cold and exhaustion made me un-chivalrous." As he spoke, Catarina realized that he was the one who had given her the pillow and blanket during the night.

The brightness of morning and comfortable warmth in the inn, as well as being well-rested, made Catarina feel generous again. "We were both in a sorry state," she said, blushing as she recalled how she had assaulted him with a book.

The young man shook his head. "My behavior was inexcusable. No gentleman should turn a lady away like that."

Catarina hardly thought he looked like a gentleman with his threadbare clothes and unwashed hair, but she doubted she looked any better or more like a lady, so she simply smiled understandingly.

"I'm Charles, by the way." He looked guiltily at the blanket and pillow huddled between them on the floor. "If there's any way I can make it up to you...." An idea seemed to strike him, lighting up his fair features. "You came here on foot, didn't you? My horse is out in the stables. I can take you wherever you're headed. I don't mind in the least if that helps make it up to you."

Catarina opened her mouth to refuse but then paused to consider his offer. She'd only just pushed herself to her feet, and she was suddenly acutely aware of how sore her legs were, no doubt from her harrowing escape the night before. Her pace would be tortuously slow if she chose to walk the rest of the day. "I...alright," she said, despite knowing it was imprudent to let strangers spirit you away while traveling through foreign regions. "If you don't mind."

The young man, Charles, looked relieved. "Not in the least," he said quickly. "It's no trouble at all. I wasn't headed anywhere in particular anyway. Just exploring and seeing the kingdom." He smiled, nearly blinding her with rows of very white, perfectly straight teeth.

Hoping she wasn't making a horrible mistake, Catarina followed him out to the stables. They ate a quick breakfast of bread, cheese, and jam before starting down the road. His steed was a massive, snow-white horse with a beautiful pale mane and plain leather saddlebags swinging on either side of its flanks. It was impressively well-behaved and didn't seem put off in the least by having to carry an extra person. They set off at a brisk, smooth trot along the muddied road, hemmed in on either side by thick groves of trees, their leaves raindrop-laden and glowing golden-green in the rich morning light. Catarina sat behind Charles and clung reluctantly to his waist while he held the reins. Frankfurt kept pace beside them, dodging puddles and stopping occasionally to daintily lick the mud from his paws. Catarina swayed to and fro in the saddle in time with the horse's steady gait.

Charles talked to her with a great deal of interest, asking her question after question and occasionally letting the conversation fall off into long stretches of silence. Over the course of the ride, Catarina told him about her narrow escape from the bandits (he looked very guilty as she explained the ordeal she had barely survived before being turned away from the room at the inn), and, when he asked about where she was from, she described the town of Carnine and the horrid green mush to him. He seemed intrigued when she told him the tale of how she'd been found as a baby and prodded her for more details, listening in rapt, thoughtful silence. She, in turn, learned about Courtside, the city he was from, and the history of Sealin's relations with nearby kingdoms. He spoke in a soft, pleasantly polished voice and was surprisingly knowledgeable.