Princess Cyd of Aheirea

Chapter 1

My skirt dragged across the muddy ground as I struggled to make my way through the marketplace in the pouring rain. My breath escaped into the heavy fog. 

Why on earth didn't I listen to Claire when she advised against wearing this? She's never led me astray with her words, not once. 

I sighed, heading into one of the safer taverns in town, pushing the heavy wooden door open, the loud bell above my head ringing. A few haggard faces turned to look at me as I pulled my hood tighter with a glove-covered hand. They looked away, uninterested in me, a nobody in peasant clothing. I approached the bar and sat down at an empty stool between two men. 

"What can I get you, dear?" the barmaid asked me, a slightly cynical smile on her face.

"Tankard of ale, please." Noticing the man on my left angling himself to look at me, I turned my head away, hoping he'd get the message. Not a chance. I braced myself, ready for him to open his filthy mouth.

"What's a small thing like you doing in a place like this?" he said, his mouth forming into a sardonic grin.

"Just getting out of the weather," I uttered, hoping he'll leave me well enough alone, but no. I saw him raising his hand to pull my hood aside in order to see my face. I tightened my hand around my tankard as I cringed inward. 

"Leave her be," the barmaid snapped. 

He grunted and pulled his hand away. Seeing as she was between him and his next drink, he was compelled to heed her words. 

I flashed her a grateful smile, but she turned away to dry the rest of the tankards with her apron, ignoring me. Not very friendly, are we? I suppose she did help me out; I should be grateful. 

Leaning my head back, I swigged the rest of my drink so I could leave this place as soon as humanly possible. 

As I stepped out into the narrow muddy street, I squinted my eyes against the emerging sun, its rays warming my face. It's about time that the sun made an entrance. The last month had been bone chillingly cold and damp, lowering the moods of many. My father's in particular. Just last week he went berserk on a poor chamber girl, throwing the contents of the chamber pot onto the wall and floor. He quickly bowed his head down in regret and sent her off to presumably cry in the servants' quarters. 

Making my way to Tillie, my mare, I swung her reins over her neck before I mounted the saddle. But before I could do that, I noticed a wrinkled piece of paper peeking out from under the saddle pad. I looked around, but the street was empty, except for a crippled woman hobbling, placing most of her weight on her left foot. 

"Excuse me," I called, as quietly as possible.

"Excuse me!" I shouted, a little louder this time.

She kept on hobbling, seemingly deaf. It wasn't her; she would've had a hard time even reaching the top of Tillie to place the paper there. 

I grabbed the paper and stuffed it into my pocket and hopped up onto the saddle⁠—side saddle, of course. Geoffrey instilled side saddle into me ever since I was allowed to ride and I've always hated it. The position just doesn't make sense. He tried to claim it was "safer for the ladies" and "to protect your femininity". Around people I knew, I rode "the correct way", but when I was surrounded by the trees of the Tarkine Forest I neglected Geoffrey's heeding. 

Tillie's hooves squelched through the thick mud on our way out of town toward home. 

Entering the Tarkine Forest, the smell of town disappeared along with the need to ride side saddle. After the bend in the path, I swung my left leg over the saddle and positioned myself for a canter. Tillie knew what my intentions were and she quickened her pace to a fast trot. I nudged my left foot behind the girth and soon the trees flew by caused my hood to start slipping back. Letting loose of my inhibitions, I let it fall, exposing my identity to anyone who could've been lurking deep in the forest. 

Through the fast moving trees I could see the tallest turrets of the castle appear. Pulling back the reins, I brought Tillie to a stop. I removed my cloak and hood, stuffing it into my leather saddle bag. 

Time to face court life...