Princess Turned Barter

Chapter Fourteen

Elena

When the sun is no longer kissing the horizon, when it is burning bright in the middle of the sky and setting ablaze every inch of my skin as it reflects off the bright snow, I recognize where we are. I recognize the white hills that expand for days ahead of us, I recognise the peaks of the mountains not far in the distance, and I especially recognise the plumes of smoke puffing in the air between the valley ahead, filling the sky with menacing black.

So she was telling the truth. We are heading to the villages of Maidell.

I have visited the villages once, when I was very young. I remember my father and his advisors leading me through the town, the cobblestone paths much similar to those at home, the clothes and food akin to ours. I don't believe Kyra's statement that those in the villages are starving and disease ridden. I have seen the luxury of the towns first hand. They are well kept and happy.

The only stark difference I remember is the work. In these villages the work is tiresome and forever going. My father states that these people are who we have to thank for our life and splendour. I must make sure to thank them personally when we get to Kyra's village.

"How far out are we?" I ask Kyra, the memory of those beautiful streets in my mind - perhaps a warm meal of mutton stew.

"When the sun is almost set we will be there,"

I have unwrapped myself from her rigid body now that the horse has slowed down to a careful trot. We had stopped multiple times to allow the horse to rest, but Kyra never let me down from the mares back. My rear is gradually becoming more and more numb with each pesky bump, and I find myself wishing for the hard pillows in the carriage.

"That is the path to Kurt, right?" I ask the stern woman, her brown hair flicking into my face as I try to point out an overgrown path to our left.

Kyra is quiet for a second, "How do you know that?" She asks with a husk.

"There isn't much to do on carriage journeys other than look out the window and take in the view," I admit with a yawn.

Kyra scoffs, "Must be so hard sitting and doing nothing while people tend to your every need." 

I ignore her rude comment and focus my attention back on the hills. The sun is dead set in the middle of the sky, making the view ahead a grave of shrubbery. Glistening ice and snow overcome every orifice as dead trees lay in our wake, the bark crying as it claws to hang onto the frozen trunks - each branch coated in frost and creating a slippery grip. What once were hills of multi-colored flowers is now a dull field, but lay in its glory is possibility. Possibility of what, I am still unsure.

Suddenly the horse begins to neigh and kick uncontrollably, the ropes bounding my legs to the mare groaning to keep me upon her back. Kyra shushes the horse, patting her head. The reins are gripped so tightly that her knuckles resemble the snow. Kyra's thighs straddling the horse desperately to stay on.

"Woah, girl," Kyra exclaims as the horse leans back onto its hind legs.

I have never been more grateful to be tied down before.

"Calm down." Kyra whispers down into the horse's mane before flinging herself off her long, hard back.

"What's wrong?" I ask Kyra, my hand instinctively reaching to pat the horse.

Kyra presses a finger to her lips before surveying the area. The horse, even the wind, is silent at Kyra's command.

Something strong abruptly grips onto my arm and tries to pull me from the horse. The brown beauty begins to kick and jump and I grab onto the reins with all the strength I have, the rope around my body becoming loose.