Flowers on the Path

Chapter V

The days at Havengard Court passed quickly, marked by the unexpected arrival of Prince Kalen. He arrived precisely two days after them, accompanied by Sir Baldon and the royal honor guard. The knights in Kalen's company were far more distinguished than the modest band of mercenaries that made up Mariella's retinue. Dalia wasn't sure if Kalen had already met with his sister, as her own encounters with Mariella had become infrequent. Mariella spent increasing amounts of time with Fredryk, turning a deaf ear to Dalia's warnings to be cautious.

Absentmindedly, Dalia tapped the ink-dipped quill against her head.

"Ugh," she muttered, grimacing as she realized she'd smudged ink into her hair. For an hour, she had been trying to write a letter to Laura, struggling to find the right words. She needed to choose them carefully, knowing that Greta, the stern steward, would likely inspect every letter before sending it.

She frowned at the contents of her note:

"Dear Laura,

We have arrived in Renil as planned. The princess is busy preparing for her wedding, full of excitement. However, it turned out her betrothed is Prince Fredryk—Prince Roderyk has already wed and is no longer the direct heir to the throne.

I miss you all. Please give my regards to Ryza."

It might have been the worst letter she had ever composed. Writing felt almost futile, especially when she couldn't even be certain if the raven would reach the order. Still, she folded the letter carefully and closed her ink pot, setting it far from the spread of books before her. The top floor of the castle housed a vast library. Most of the books were neglected, some so old they threatened to crumble in her hands, written in archaic languages. She brought one up to her nose, admiring the intricate illustrations and rich detailing. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in!" Dalia called, quickly slipping her mask back on. The cramped space between her chair and the desk scraped against the opening door.

"Cozy in here," Lucia said with a hint of sarcasm. The tiny room Dalia had been given barely fit a bed, desk, and wardrobe. Two steps spanned from the desk to the door. A small window let in just enough light to remind her it was day.

"It's not too bad. At least it's close to the princess's quarters," Dalia replied, attempting optimism.

Lucia's nose crinkled in disapproval. She had been assigned a room a floor below, sharing it with Lidia.

"The princess is calling for you," Lucia said flatly. "She's in her room."

"Of course." Dalia stood from her little chair but hesitated as she passed Lucia. "Could... could you give this to Greta to send?" She handed over the rolled-up letter.

Lucia frowned, clearly unenthusiastic, but snatched the letter from Dalia's hand.

"I'll send it myself," she snapped and turned away abruptly.

Dalia knocked at Mariella's door before entering without waiting for a response. The princess sat at the edge of her bed, dressed in a simple gray dress, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

"Someone's in a good mood," Dalia remarked. "But that dress hardly suits a future queen."

"It's Lucia's," Mariella said proudly, adjusting the fabric. Though plain, it draped elegantly on her frame. "It's perfect for a walk in town, which you are going to take me on!"

"Absolutely not," Dalia said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Kalen told me the city is beautifully decorated in my honor!"