The Hands of Fate

Chapter 6

Two weeks! He was coming home in two weeks! Caspian couldn't contain his excitement. In two weeks he would be back home, embracing his family, embracing the kingdom of Allenia and embracing Farah. He wondered how she was, probably the same as ever. The two weeks passed by as quickly as the speed of a wildfire eating at a dry forest. Caspian almost didn't mind when he was told that Amara was coming with him.

Soon enough, the day came, and he was boarding the coach with Princess Amara, bidding the King and Queen—along with the kingdom of Elios—good-bye. Truth be told, he would miss it, but not as much as he had missed Allenia all of these years. Seven years. It seemed so long since he had seen his home, and he was jumping with excitement to see it again.

Over the course of the trip Caspian answered a million of Amara's long, and boring questions. Some being where she could buy new dresses, others being where she would stay in the palace. Caspian had answered them all delightfully, just happy to be headed towards his homeland.

After many rounds of boarding and leaving ships and carriages, he saw the palace's broad towers coming into view. At the sight, Caspian found himself beaming with anticipation. This was it, he was finally home. As he passed by the town in the coach he waved to the people. Many saw him and their jaws dropped, their once cute and meek prince was now strong and handsome, like the type that would sweep his princess away in a fairy tale. As many were struck out of their daze, though, they waved back to him, pulled out of their trance for a mere second to welcome their Prince.

Caspian's gaze searched through the crowd for Farah, but he paused as realization crossed his mind. She had to be at the palace, that was her home. It seemed so silly of him to have thought that she would be one of the commoners in town, waving as they walked by the rolling carriage.

Farah, though, was far from the palace. She stepped along the rocky path of a hill beside Mr Smith, helping him along the way. The winding path was not easy for him at such an age, but he'd insisted they'd taken the trail. The two soon stopped when they reached the top of the incline, admiring the view of the kingdom. It had taken them a while to walk there, but they had talked along the way, happy to have each other's company. They had discussed work, and how the royal family seemed to be working Farah even harder; though she was fine with it. As long as she got her pay she would be alright. She was on her own now, and had no mother to help with her finances, making money crucial. 

"So," the tailor began, his voice raspy with age, though still filled with kindness. "Tell me more about the Prince, how is he? Nice?"

Farah giggled slightly, Mr.Smith loved hearing about the royals and how they lived their lives. She smoothed out her black dress and apron as she sat down on the lush grass with him, moving a curled strand of black hair out of her face.

"Well," She began, thinking back to when they were younger. "When I knew him he was very modest and kind. He loved his Kingdom very much, it was almost like a passion." Farah said, smiling at the thought.

"You seem to think very fondly of him," the man spoke, a small smile spreading across his wrinkled face, his eyes twinkling.

Farah's face flushed slightly, "I'm only saying the truth," she said lightly. "Plus, we're only friends."

Mr.Smith nodded, listening to her, soaking in all of the details. Suddenly, halfway through a story, Farah stopped. The man turned, and, seeing a look of worry on her face, frowned.

"What is it, my dear?" he asked her, but she only stared ahead, as if too horrified to even answer. He squinted his eyes in the direction of where she was looking, and saw that there were people gathered in the square, following something.