Sky of Wind by Emily Deady
Chapter 15
When the carriage finally pulled to a halt, Sol opened his eyes. He had not fully slept on the ride, but he felt moderately rested.
The princess was still fast asleep, her head buried in her arms, which leaned against the wall to her side. She did not stir as the carriage jolted in place and someone opened the door from the outside.
“We’ve arrived at the monastery, your highness,” the servant said. His voice was tired and his face remained clouded in the darkness outside.
“Thank you,” Sol responded, feeling awkward. No one had addressed him with a title before, and he realized he would have to get used to it. The feeling it elicited was closer to anger than pride.
The servant stepped away, leaving the door open.
Meena was still asleep.
With a growing panic, Sol realized he would have to be the one to wake her. He could not fully see her, either, in the darkness, but he looked her over for a moment, deciding the best way to go about this.
“Princess?” he whispered.
She didn’t stir. Not that he was surprised, since the louder noises of the servant and horses had not disturbed her.
Reaching for her shoulder, he gently placed his hand on it. “Princess,” he whispered a little more sharply.
Still nothing.
Twisting his wrist, he gave her shoulder a single shake.
She exhaled, making the smallest noise in the back of her throat.
Sol immediately removed his hand.
As she inhaled deeply, she lifted her head and slowly stretched her body awake. “Have we arrived?” she asked.
“Yes,” Sol answered. He backed himself out of the carriage, waving the hand which had touched her through the cold night air. His skin tingled from the warm contact of her shoulder.
She followed after him.
He held out his hand to help her find the step, but she must not have seen it as she held the sides of the door frame and sleepily jumped to the ground, bypassing the carriage step completely.
Sol walked by her side, subtly letting her take the lead. He’d never stayed at an inn before, though he was told this was more of a monastery turned army camp. “I used to love this place,” she whispered.
“Used to?” Sol asked, leaning over her to keep his whisper quiet.
A servant walked past them, carrying a small chest of Meena’s belongings. “I’ll explain later,” she whispered back up at him.
She kept her hands tucked into her own arms, likely for warmth, instead of holding on to Sol as she had at the palace. He found himself instinctively walking closer to her, half a step behind her to keep her safely within his view. It was definitely not because he wanted to be near her.
“Welcome, your royal highnesses.” A large, imposing man bowed graciously as they entered the main door of the monastery.
“General Gautho,” Meena responded. She sounded awake and alert, as though she had not just traveled in an uncomfortable wheeled cart for hours. “You did not have to greet us personally. It is quite late.”
“I would not have missed the occasion to wish you well,” Gautho responded. “Nor have I had the pleasure of meeting Lord Solano—eh, Prince Sirilian now, of course.”
Sol willed himself to remain confident and unmoving under the cheerful man’s shrewd gaze. He nodded his head, unsure how to respond to the man’s statement.
“I have trained with many of the young nobles from Allys. I find it surprising that I never worked with you,” the general continued.
Sol pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “My brothers showed more skill in combat, I’m afraid.” He tried to smile, to play off the words as light. He was afraid the man would see through his defensiveness. They had only just begun their subterfuge, and their first opponent was already doubting him.
“He’s being modest, General,” Meena said, playfully swatting Sol’s arm.
Gautho’s gaze softened into a smile as he turned to Meena. “And yet he has won the hand of a princess.” His eyes turned back to Sol, glinting through his smile. “Frederich’s only daughter. There must have been some other skill which won her affection? I would love to hear more.”
Meena tucked her hand into Sol’s arm, then, and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Shall I not choose whomever I wish? Some other time, General. Our ship sails on the early tide and today has been long. I am exhausted and I must beg you to show me our room.”
“Of course, princess. The invitation still stands, Prince Sol, if you would like to share a drink and relax your muscles from traveling.”
Sol smiled down at Meena. He had no desire to be alone with this Quotidian soldier. If they had been at the fort, he would have gladly accepted, hoping to learn information through their conversation. For now, however, he placed his hand on Meena’s back. “I would prefer to retire with my wife.” He felt Meena’s spine stiffen, but she twisted her neck, looking up at him with an adoring smile. If he hadn’t known she was acting, he would have completely been tricked by her performance. For a moment, he hoped the rest of the mission offered many more opportunities for adoring smiles.
Once they were in a small room on the upper level of the monastery turned fort, Sol closed the door behind them. He looked over it as Meena brought a lit candle to the bedside table. Sol was disappointed to see there was no locking mechanism on the door. He strode to the window. He could see the stars blearily through the glass, but the window itself did not open.
“Admiring the stars?” Meena asked, approaching his side.
Sol looked down, offended that she would think him capable of doing something so frivolous. “This window does not open. Which means we are safe from intruders, but also that we are limited to a single escape route.”
The princess glanced around the room. “The door?”
He nodded.
“When I was a child, we used to visit the monks here,” Meena said. The candle behind them lit her hair, but not her face. “The good men patiently let us race through the halls, and courtyards. I imagine I could still get from the back gate to the front courtyard by several different routes.” She stopped abruptly.
He said nothing, looking down at her face in the shadows, unsure what she was trying to tell him.
“I’m sorry. You’re probably not at all interested in the layout of the monastery, I was just rambling on about why I used to love this place.”
“I am, in fact, very interested in how this room is connected to the back door, and where the back door is located,” Sol responded. “Used to?” he asked his previous question again.
“I haven’t tried racing through the halls since the soldiers took over. I’m not sure they would be as patient about it, though.”
Sol nodded. “You’re likely correct. And I’d rather not find out.”
“The back door is easy to access from here, it is down the hall in the other direction and across the gardens.”
Sol felt his shoulders relax. It was time for sleep. Stepping to the bed, he pulled back one of the blankets.
Meena had not moved from the window, her arms were crossed in front of her.
“Can I take this one?” he asked, moving toward the door, blanket in hand.
“Take? Yes. Why?” she asked.
He spread the blanket on the floor in front of the door, assuming his actions would be explanation enough.
“Sol, I don’t think anyone is going to attack us this night,” she said, moving closer to the bed.
“We are always susceptible to attack,” Sol replied, removing his leather shoes.
“They know who I am. They think you are my husband. I mean, you are my husband. For all they know, that is.” She closed her mouth.
“I am not willing to take that risk,” Sol said, spreading himself on the blanket fully clothed.
“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” Meena tried again.
Sol felt the awkwardness of their situation. He had no intention of becoming close to the princess when they were alone, in any form. “I’ve slept in worse places.” He crossed his arms over his chest, closing his eyes, hoping to deter further conversation.
“Would you at least like a pillow?” she asked.
He opened an eye.
She was holding out a feather stuffed sack.
He shook his head. “I’ve never used one. It would probably hurt my neck.” He closed his eyes, but not before he’d caught the look of confusion on her face.
She remained unmoving for several seconds, then finally he heard her light footfall.
He kept his eyes firmly closed as she moved around the room. He heard the mattress crunch as she sank into it. And he could see through his eyelids when the room darkened as she blew out the candle beside the bed.
Leaning his head toward the door, he opened his eyes in the darkness. He listened to her breathing until it settled into a slow rhythm. Not only did she sleep deeply, but she fell asleep quickly.
Sol exhaled, wishing he could afford such a luxury. Reaching out, he touched the door, ensuring it was latched close.
With his hand against the wood, he finally closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax. It was several minutes before his mind stopped racing through the various situations he should remain prepared for throughout the night.
Finally, he drifted into a light sleep.