The road stretches endlessly before us, winding through rolling hills and soft peaks on the skirts of jagged mountains. The air here is different. It’s clearer, lighter. It's as if the nds we left behind had a curse pced upon them. Even the men feel it. Their shoulders are rexed, and the frequent wary gnces have lessened; they know they’re home.

  Hours have passed on the road, the once low sun and cool morning have turned into a near-eve light with lukewarm temperatures. Though the change is hard to tell with the cloak trapping mine and Caspian’s heat together.

  As the sun sinks deeper into its evening hues, the sight of a beautiful city comes into view. Riding closer, I can see its beauty magnified. It has a magnificent blend of medieval buildings with snted roofs of orange tiles, with nature surrounding each building.

  Built to incorporate the windy river next to it, moss-covered bridges are abundant between dimly lit paths. There are also towering trees that stand against buildings, with nterns lining the paths shrouded by greenery, creating a romantic, mystical look to the city’s outer zone.

  This must be Arken.

  It's a far cry from Arrton, this pce is alive. Unlike the people of Arrton, here, people live with nature rather than shrouding it.

  As we ride closer, people outside of their homes gnce up, startled by the rge parade of men. Whispers become murmurs, and murmurs become something louder. A cheer erupts.

  “Duke Astarteu!”

  Their voices rise, their excitement causing words to overp.

  “He’s returned!”

  A wave of energy ripples through the streets. Men and women rush to the front of their homes to watch the men’s return. Children run out to sprint alongside the horses, their ughter echoing in the air as we ride forward.

  Caspian doesn’t react to the cheers. Instead, he keeps his head up, accepting their loyalty with pride.

  As we move deeper into the city’s heart, the dirt paths become cobbled in tan stone, a fme design etched into the city’s centre. Caspian’s family line. The centre is filled with market stalls and business buildings surrounding it. Overhead, ribbons of red and purple sway between rge wooden ntern posts. This pce is beautiful! I gawk at the sight of the charming city.

  The welcoming homecoming wasn’t what I expected. I shuffle in the saddle, a little shy about the amount of eyes on me, heaven knows what they’re thinking with me sharing a horse with Caspian, cloak secured.

  A castle lies not so far ahead, and a vast flowering field with a few scattered trees separates it from the city. The cheers fade as we ride closer to the limestone castle, the roof tiles matching the orange ones from the city. We ride through the outer walls of the castle and continue on to the entrance.

  I should be gd the journey is over, but nerves set in. Is this my prison? The pce I’ll possibly be held for..ever? Questions and ideas blitz through my brain. Why does Caspian keep me hostage? Why keep me here? What need am I to him? And if Mandell was right. Will he let me go home soon?

  Caspian pulls his horse to a halt in front of the towering doors of the castle. The rest of the army follows suit.

  Inside the gap between the castle and the surrounding ndscape, the grounds remind me of the pace in Arrton. Horsekeepers, bcksmiths and other professions are in plentiful supply, inside the inner walls of the castle, their duties primarily focused on the running of the abode, just like in Arrton. The grounds are quickly filled with the noises of shifting saddles and murmured orders being thrown about as the soldiers dismount.

  Caspian skillfully unknots his broken cloak from around us and passes it off to one of the stewards of the castle. Before I can make a move, Caspian swings off his horse with practiced ease, his wound no longer giving him grief, and then turns to me.

  “Don’t you dare—”

  But he doesn’t wait for permission. He grabs me by my hips and lifts me down in one swift, impersonal motion, like removing luggage from a car. My hands catch his shoulders purely out of instinct to bance myself. The moment I touch the ground, I once again shove his hands off me and take a step back.

  His expression doesn’t change. Unconcerned with my actions, he moves back to his horse, taking off his bag before handing the reins to a soldier. Caspian then strides to the rge wooden doors, pushing them open with one hand, then faces me. Ushering with the tilt of his head to ‘come inside’. Reluctantly, I follow.

  Stepping into the castle, the air changes. Servants are rushing around to put up decorations, pausing to bow to Caspian as they walk past him. It is clear that Caspian’s arrival wasn’t expected to be so early. I gnce around the foyer of the castle, a rge grand staircase is pced in the middle of the room, with two rge corridors connected to it on either side. Tapestries hang alongside the rge corridors, the space is grand, but not excessive. It is humble in comparison to the pace, matching Caspian’s reserved nature.

  My thoughts are cut off by a veiled older woman in a strange mix of English and Grecian attire, walking towards us with her arms crossed.

  “Your raven said you’d be here after three moons pass.” Her voice is sharp and authoritative.

  “Something came up,” Caspian states, turning his head to look at me.

  “You brought home a woman?” She squints her eyes at me, assessing my character. “Well, as long as she’s better than the st one, I’m not bothered.” She tuts, before moving closer to Caspian to inspect his attire. Last one? Does he frequently bring home women? Have I been kidnapped by a pervert?

  “You smell like blood.” Her lips purse. “Again.”

  She seems to realise something and opens her mouth in annoyance.

  “And where is your helmet?” She throws her hands up, like this isn’t the first time he’s lost it.

  Unimpressed by her words, Caspian flicks a brow towards her before moving on.

  “This is Genevieve. She stays close.” Caspian turns back to me. “You’ll keep an eye on her, no exceptions.”

  The veiled woman tuts at my appearance, seemingly disappointed. She waves her hand to a nearby servant, causing her to stop. “Prepare hot water for the duke.” The servant bows quickly before hurrying off.

  I remain still, my arms crossed, as the veiled woman continues her assessment of me. She moves with authority, every step coordinated, her expression is sharp with criticism, the scrutiny seeming more professional than personal.

  She squints, her judgment sharp and honest.

  “She looks weary and difficult.”

  I blink at the absurd insult. Excuse me? Difficult? A difficult person wouldn’t

  The woman purses her lips together, her head turning back to Caspian to continue to talk about me, as if I weren’t there.

  “Troublesome. Like she talks back… An arguer than a worker.”

  I scoff, an appalled expression resting on my face.

  “Excu-”

  “Oh, and an attitude.” The woman cuts me off with raised brows. Attitude? Lady, you haven’t even seen attitude yet. She gres at Caspian. “And you expect me to manage this?”

  “Just keep an eye on her, Ni.” Caspian reiterates the importance of keeping me under watch. “She’ll work under you while I figure out her pce in all of this.”

  I frown. I have to work under her?

  Ni lets out a slow breath, looking me up and down once more. “Well, a bath is in order then. Come along, girl.” Ni turns to leave, gring at me to follow before walking away.

  Caspian doesn’t stick around; he heads towards Sir Leiman and the other officers, and the post-war discussions begin. Before his presence could disappear from behind me, I pick up parts of their conversation.

  Something about the king, something about the war and…

  Something I’m not meant to hear. A prophecy?

  Ni leads me away from the grand foyer and heads towards a narrow passage tucked behind a wooden door nearby. It’s nothing as spectacur as the stairs before; it’s dimly lit, and the ceilings aren’t as towering.

  The servant’s staircase.

  Before I close the door behind me, I gnce back at Caspian and the others, but they’re already out of sight. They’ve probably gone to a war room to discuss.

  Ni doesn’t slow, her pace is brisk, and I have to race up the stairs to keep up with her. At the top, we emerge into a corridor of wooden doors, each leading to another staircase, room or corridor. Ni keeps walking, a junction appears, and we turn right and head into the nearest room. The room is very clearly a public bathroom for the servants to use. A few rge wooden tubs are pced in the room and are monitored by the bathroom staff, whose job is to keep the water clean and hot. Steam rolls off the top of the water with vender floating on its surface. My body yearns to clean off the dirt, grime, blood, and hell knows what else on me.

  “Take your clothes off. You smell like you’ve fallen into a dung heap.” She waits for me to shed my clothes, but my cheeks flush with a tint of red.

  “Here?” The room has a few other female servants bathing, but my modern apprehension of being publicly indecent makes me shy to remove my clothing in front of everyone.

  “Where else? You can’t bathe in clothes.” We have a brief war of stares, before the battle is over, and I awkwardly strip my clothes down. It’s normal. It’s normal. It’s a very common practice in history. Bare, I hand my clothes over to Ni, who ogles them for a moment.

  “This is the attire of Arrton pace maids…You’re from Arrton?” Sympathy ces her voice, as if she’s trying to form a sympathetic retionship with me.

  I stare at her with a solemn face. Was. Maybe. I don’t know anymore.

  Does my home even exist? Even if it did, would she believe me that I’m not from this world?

  “I’m not even sure where I’m from,” I mumble out, sadness washing over me at the realisation I may never see my home again. Ni gives me a strange look before moving on and ushering me into the bath.

  “You have 10 minutes, try and rex. You may not want to be here, but it’s where you are now. Accept it and move on, you won’t be maltreated here.” She tries to offer me some sympathy, but her tone comes off strong. Leaving me baffled as to whether she’s trying to be nice or commanding.

  Ni hands my clothes away to one of the bathroom servants, and within a few minutes, they return with clothing befitting the attire of the county.

  “There'll be a feast tonight for the blessed return of the duke. You’ll be serving him tonight.” She pces the clothes down on a table nearby, taking a linen cloth from the cupboard, she pces it on top.

  “When you’re done, you’ll dress in the uniform of the castle maids in Arken.” She looks to the other women in the room, with a stare that reads ‘watch her, or else.’ The women nod as Ni turns to leave the room.

  Upon the shutting of the door, two young women in the tub next to me shuffle to the edge and tap my shoulder.

  I turn to the women who are a few inches away from me with a slightly startled look. Awkwardly, I slowly cover my chest as they begin talking to me.

  “Hello.” One with brown curly hair smiles. The other one, with a slightly lighter shade, waves at me.

  “I’m Leia, and this is Amaline.” Amaline smiles, giving me a curt hello before Leia continues to talk.

  “I heard you rode in on the duke’s horse.” Leia giggles, as if any mention of the duke’s name is worthy of fluster and tee-hee’s. “Why?” She leans over the bath edge, smiling, urging me to fulfil her wish of gossip.

  “Uh…I think it’s so he can keep an eye on me?” I’m pretty sure if I tell them, they may think I’m a spy, and I’ll never be left alone in this pce.

  “Oh my Gods! Why?” I let out a silent ugh at the tone of her question, her personality shining through her words.

  “Ehh…I’m not sure.” I awkwardly smile at the girls, but their faces don’t change, instead, their grins grow wider.

  “Are you gonna be the new dy? The st one was awful.” They tease, knowing I'm just a maid in a strange situation, but their hopeless romantic dreams lead them onto a delusional train of thought. New dy? Absolutely not.

  I raise a brow, brushing her comment off.

  “The st one?” I question, curious to know if Caspian really was partnered before.

  “She was a noble dy from Arrton,” Leia expins with a quick nod. “The king arranged it. Said it was to keep tabs on things here, since the duke’s been all but exiled. At least, that’s what Sir Leiman says, he’s an awful gossip.” Sir Leiman, a gossip? That doesn’t sound right. He’s far too…Tempered. He’s the kind of man who sleeps in his armour and scowls at insubordination.

  The mention of gossip twists something in my chest. Ellie…Oh, how I would tear the sky apart to see her again.

  Amaline gestures towards her shoulder, her expression sobering. “She was an awfully mean woman, and when the duke would go out on his duties given by the king, she’d beat the staff members. This scar here, “ She points to a thin white line on her shoulder, “was from me bumping her in the corridor. Barely touched her, but she called it insolence.”

  Silence rattles the air for a moment.

  “She has since married the prince,” Leia adds, rolling her eyes. “Serves her right, if you ask me. A true match made in the swamps of maehava.” Swamp of maehava? Is that supposed to be hell or something?

  “So gd.” Leia chimes in to agree with Amaline.

  Caspian…was married? That’s new…I can’t say why it unsettles, just that it does. He doesn’t strike me as a man capable of romance. I suppose if it was arranged, there didn’t need to be any, especially if she’s as evil as everyone mentions her to be. Caspian is quite a curious character…

  Still, I think I’d rather jump into a pit of fire than marry him.

  A question suddenly pops into my head, a confirmation of something I assumed but wanted to know more about.

  “Cut off county?” The girls look taken aback at my question, as if my question was second-hand knowledge.

  Amaline leans forward, her hand flicking gracefully in the air, and speaks the truth of the county and Caspian’s maltreatment.