Crossed Hearts | h.s

Nineteen

In a simple terra-cotta colored dress, Geneva walked through the palace doors and stepped into the crisp coolness of the early morning. She looked up, finding that the moon still hung in the sky amongst the fading stars, and smiled as she said a silent goodbye to the constellations.

"Ready, your highness?"

She brought her eyes back down to the ground. Harry stood next to her, his hair still damp from an early bath. She smiled and nodded, taking his hand as he helped her into the covered carriage.

Inside, the seats were plush, but the space was limited. It was one of the smaller carriages that the royal family owned, much more discreet than the extravagantly decorated ones that were used more frequently before the drought. But since the lack of rain, there had been a hatred amongst some of the poorer citizens toward the royals, and it was safer for them to stay inside the palace walls rather than visit the villages like they used to.

Emilia joined her soon after and slid onto the seat across from her. "Good morning, your highness," she smiled. Her hair was tied in a braided bun at the nape of her neck and she also wore a dress of a simple style and color. They hoped to diminish as much of the barrier between themselves and the villagers as possible, but there was only so much that they could do. They were going to stick out like a sore thumb no matter what.

"Good morning," Geneva replied. She reached for the curtain that covered the small square window on the door of the carriage and looked outside, watching as the men mounted their horses. Suddenly, Harry appeared in the window on the back of a chocolate brown steed. He gave her a curt nod and then trotted away. Geneva bit back a smile, let go of the curtain, and leaned back in her seat.

The carriage pulled to a slow start as the driver clicked his tongue, asking the horses to walk on.

❁ ❁ ❁

"Whoa," the driver said as he pulled back on the reins of the horses.

"Your highness," Emilia whispered, tapping Geneva on the shoulder. She opened her eyes and rubbed them groggily as she awoke from her nap. "I think we're here."

Butterflies flooded her stomach in a nervous excitement. She pulled back the curtain and peered out of the window, trying her best to look at where they were heading, but she didn't have to strain too hard, as the carriage finally came to a halt.

Instead of waiting for the door to be opened, she pushed on the handle and did it herself, jumping out and landing on her feet with a thud. The stale stench of residual smoke slithered into her nostrils, making her scrunch her nose up with disgust, but she quickly composed herself and tried her best to ignore the strange scent. She then surveyed her surroundings, noticing that the path led to a wooden bridge that was built over what was once a river but was now only dried dirt.

She frowned at the sight, and walked over to Silas, who had dismounted his mare. "What are we doing?"

"The village is just past the bridge, but the carriage is too heavy to cross over it. The thing looks like it could disintegrate at any moment. We'll have to carry the supplies and walk over," he explained.

Geneva nodded, and poked her head back into the carriage where Emilia still sat. "Come on," she smiled cheerily. Ducking out of the carriage, she began to walk toward the bridge, meeting Harry at the beginning of the wooden panels. He stood there, gazing into the distance nervously. "What's wrong, Styles?"

He snapped his eyes down toward her. He was going to deflect the question initially, but as he looked into her caring eyes, he changed his mind. "Just apprehensive. I have a feeling this place is going to remind me of home."