From A Kingdom's Shadow

CHAPTER SIX

Barri waved in thanks to the driver of the hired cart, as he gathered his two heavy packs, one slung over his back, the other uncomfortably over his front and gathered a crate from the cart. He checked the sun to see that he had time, it was bright now, mid-sun would not be for another few hours, he could make good time if he was quick. Barri shifted the packs and started off towards where he knew the paths would thin out from the lack of foot traffic, though he had traveled this way enough that he could walk it blind.

As he rounded to the less traveled paths, Barri pulled on his fur lined coat and quickened his pace to escape the urge to shiver against the dropping temperatures of the north. Thoughts of the calm of Siren's Lake beckoning him to push forward, but he could not shake the hurt he felt leaving Apondra at the shop. He knew that her words were said with emotion, and in his many years, he knew that women deep in their emotions, especially of Apondra's teen age, could be very abrupt, even cruel at times. But for her to say that he was not her father, it was both a hurtful truth, and a crushing blow.

"Should have told Pondie truth years ago old fool," he quietly berated himself as he weaved through the path, checking subtle markers; small patches of dead fall, patches of bright poison berries in the snowy brush, and the occasional notch he marked in a tree every now and again, just subtle enough that anyone passing by would not take notice but enough that when the sun shone on the dripping sap it shimmered against the bark, he knew his path was true.

Barri knew that Apondra was getting to an age where she needed him less and less, that she would eventually make her own path in life, whether that was with him in it or, with his foolish words those weeks ago, without. Maybe Pearl had some insight, she knew much more about the ways of women than he could ever know. In her own ways, she was smarter than him, even if she was not aware of it.

He glanced at small markers on his way, and settled in for a long walk until his first stop at a small tavern a few hours up the road.

Apondra put her hands to her hips as she stared at her closet. All of her clothing was good enough to fit with her bindings and cloak properly, but she soon found herself fretting over what would be suitable to wear to dinner with the prince. It had to be nice enough that he would not question that he was dining with some peasant girl, but not gaudy or revealing either. She had a feeling from his interaction with the nightmaidens that he was more inclined to a modest dress.

So she sat for the past few hours, turning through her dresses, again and again, finding one reason or another to doubt that she even had anything good enough to wear.

Her stomach twisted with uncertainty, and she began questioning if accepting the prince's invitation was a mistake. She pushed the doubts down and went to close her closet, when her eye caught onto one of the dresses that was tucked away to the back of her closet. Apondra smiled as she brought it out. She did not remember this dress, it was a longer fit than she was used to; long sleeved and a hemline that she would need to lift to keep herself from tripping over it, but the more she admired it, the stronger she felt that this dress would be her best choice. She smiled to herself as she set it gently on her bed and slipped out of her nightdress she still had not changed out of all day.

She felt a giddiness she had never felt before as she walked around the empty shop in her velvety soft dress, eventually coming to a stop in front of her small vanity table with a small pointed brush, and a mortar full of blood meal she had worked to the consistency of ink, "It should not be too bad," she told herself as she focused on her reflection and although she tried to keep her hand steady, she had to use an old rag with a drop of the spirits she took from Barri's bedside table to redo her lips several times before she was satisfied. Apondra gazed into the mirror in wonder, before tonight she had never truly had a desire to color her skin besides the small amount of dry blood meal she used to powder her cheeks whenever she would go out to town to give her pale cheeks some color. Just enough to keep up the facade of an elf. The deep red color to her lips, even while it was wet, made Apondra's confidence soar. She spent the next few hours admiring herself in the mirror and excitedly prancing around the shop dancing with herself to the bard's song stuck in her head.