A Kind of Magic

Sixty-Six

They rode through Lundenwick at twilight. 

After hours on end of travelling across the flat countryside void of people towards the tall, white rock formation around which the king's castle was built, the town spreading at its feet seemed bustling and crowded. They didn't get deeper than a few cobbled streets in when the first inhabitants noticed them, and at first shyly and almost imperceptibly, then always more visibly and annoyingly, a train of followers composed of all sorts of creatures living in Silmarea, but mainly elves to whom this province belonged, grew behind them, spilling around the group where the narrow streets widened into small squares, whispering and touching anyone they could reach, slowing the progress of their horses who were beginning to feel nervous from the sudden onslaught of people crowding them, as they whispered, trying to guess which of the women who now rode surrounded by the circle of their male companions to keep them out of the strangers' reach, was their princess. 

Finally, after what seemed to have been hours to Fiona who didn't like the commotion and attention in the slightest and already looked back upon their journey here with nostalgia, the company reached the main square, a grand expanse of gently sloping cobbled ground complete with a well in its centre and an elegant row of tall bright houses surrounding it on all sides.

Beyond it, the elegant buildings of the town morphed quickly into lush, labyrinthine gardens encompassing her father's castle-- a high, elegant tower carved directly into the white rock protruding in an unexpected, alien way from the surrounding flatland. It stood brightly against the darkening sky, towering above the rest of the world, like an exclamation point ending the story of Fiona's journey from the twenty-first century London to this fantastical Lundenwick, via a time portal, a wormhole, hidden in the Hurlers in Bodmin Moor... She would never believe any of what she had experienced in the last week was possible if it hadn't happened to her...

She giggled, then sighed,  the confused, undecided sound full of doubts, bringing Peregrine closer to her side immediately. 

"You are at home, Bella," he muttered over the commotion the excited people were making, leading her towards the first guarded, tall, silvery gate made of some iridescent metal wrought into a delicate lace-like pattern and set into the outermost high, curved, white stone wall. "There's nothing you need to be afraid of; this place, this country, it all belongs to you."

Fiona shook her head, sighing again, but didn't say anything. She didn't care about any of this, she mused as she let her horse follow Shadow up a steep, empty, winding path sprinkled with white gravel, but she would put up with it and anything else that destiny would throw at her, as long as it meant that Peregrine would remain in her life. That was the only thing she would ask in return for any sacrifice her father would demand from her.

They rode for at least twenty more minutes in Fiona's estimation, passing through guarded gates at regular intervals, the white gravel path winding in tighter circles around the white mount carved into a fairytale-like castle, both the snow-white gravel moulding around their horses' hooves with a sand-like whisper and the pristine walls dotted with elegant arched windows that lined the path on their right, morphing into a fused silver in the light of the moon which slowly rose on the distant, lavender-hued horizon. 

It was completely dark when they reached yet another gate, a twin of the one that separated the castle rock from the town. Peregrine dismounted and bowed to the armoured knights standing on both sides of the entrance. The others followed his example, and on foot, leading their exhausted horses by theirs bridles, the company entered the first courtyard. 

A battalion of servants and maids was expecting them within the innermost circle of walls, leading their horses away immediately, promising to take care of them and bring their luggage into their assigned chambers, offering the ladies a possibility to bathe and change before the audience with the king who was waiting for them impatiently. 

As one they all refused, none of the women wished to be separated from their male companions in this moment of their journey-- the king would have to accept them as they were, dusty and weather worn after the long journey. 

Seeing that there was nothing they could do to change their minds, the maids courtsied so many times that the movement made Fiona feel nauseous before they finally retreated back into the gloomy interior of the castle and she felt thankful to Peregrine who, feeling her exhaustion, stepped so close behind her that she could lean against him for support without being seen by anyone. 

She would love to turn around and wrap her arms around his waist while she buried her face in his chest, breathing him in, she didn't care what her father's people or he in person would think... But Peregrine did mind. They had talked about it, and she respected his decision to hide their feelings at court. He had explained to her his reasons, the intricate, delicate ties between the high positioned people of Silmarea, her father's expectations for her.  Botheration... In all honesty, she didn't care for any of it, but she loved Peregrine and could not disrespect his respect for King Alaric. 

As long as he wouldn't vanish from her life, she could live with keeping their feelings secret. For now. Until she met and got to know her father. And then... But she would think about that later. The only way to approach her new life without driving herself crazy was one step at the time. She could do that; if she had learned anything in her life until now, it was the importance of keeping her mind open and being patient. 

"Let's go in..." Peregrine breathed into her hair, the whispered words penetrating the cloud of her curls and landing on the side of her neck like a kiss, making her feel weak in the knees, making her want to lean into him, pull him into her arms and never let go...

But she forced herself to ignore the temptation and followed the others inside the cool and gloomy interior of the white castle, casting just one furtive glance towards the white walls, hoping to see the world beyond... finding out that the encompassing walls were too tall for that. There was nothing for her to see and think of but the present moment. 

And the future, weaved by destiny, unfolding in front of her from the mists of the unknown with every step she took forward.