The Bewitching Hour

✧ chapter twelve: in the flower fields

Lance can't help but yawn as he looks over the shoreline at the hazy objects in the distance, and this despite his interest in making sense out of the shapes. He's grateful for the fact that his father is still busy with the transaction behind him, or else he'd tease him about his earlier insistence that he wasn't tired.

The air in the town of Nalquod always smells like salt. Every so often the McClains take a few days to travel there to sell livestock and crops. Lance's father is fond of the fish that the man by the docks sells and always buys plenty to take back to his wife. Most days Lance would use that exchange as an excuse to talk to the fisherman's daughter. Today, though, he finds himself distracted.

Past the ocean, somewhere, is a country called Daibazaal. Of course he can't see it from here, but how far away is it, exactly? What's it like there? Lance has always felt something pulling him past the sea. He wants to know what's out there. He can't stand not knowing. What if he never knows?

"C'mon, son!" His father's voice calls. "Let's get a move on! We wanna be out of here by sunset."

"I'm coming!"

Lance jogs to his father's side. He doesn't even ask before he shoves a bundle of fish into his son's arms. Lance wrinkles his nose slightly at the smell, but looks forward to the meals nonetheless.

"It was nice to see you, Lance," Florona says. She's wearing a nice dress and smiling at him. "Come by again and visit soon, okay?"

"Uh. Sure." Lance squirms at the attention. At the fact that his dad definitely notices. What's wrong with him today? He'd normally be delighted. "See ya."

Lance is quiet and keeps his head down while they reload the wagon. It's not until he's standing beside his dad as he prepares to command the horses that the man finally cracks a grin.

"So Florona likes you, huh?"

"I guess so."

"Why not give her a chance? She's a pretty girl."

"You're not gonna make me a marry a local girl instead?"

Lance means for that to come out as a joke, but it doesn't. Not quite. His dad laughs like it was funny.

"That's the council's deal. So your brother might not like it, but I don't care so much if she's a local so long as she's a nice girl from a good family. That's what's really important if she's gonna give me grandkids and work on my farm."

Lance just hums, briefly, as some form of agreement, but doesn't say anything. He climbs into the back of the wagon to watch over the cargo and watch the changing scenery fade away behind him, his feet hanging out the back.

When they stop at a tavern between stops, Lance hopes his dad would have forgotten about Florona, but he hasn't and he's still teasing.

"If that's your type, why not just go for Plaxum?" he asks. Lance laughs nervously.

"I don't think she'd appreciate me asking her out. Seeing as I, uh, kinda broke her heart when we were twelve."

The tension breaks when Lance's dad groans and buries his face in his hands.

"What on earth am I supposed to do with you boys?" He laments. "Between you and Marco— I swear."

They eat until their bellies are stuffed full and then spend a night in that tiny village. Early in the morning, they wake before the sun does and set off for Plaht. Lance can see the mountains that surround it long before they get there. He smiles at the cool afternoon breeze. Business trips can be exhausted, but he's glad he's old enough to tag along now, because he does love getting out of Plaht and seeing new places and faces. It also makes returning home feel sweeter.