A girl in disguise. An heir in hunt. A world divided.
Iris Lavera is born into the civilization of the least respected ones. The lineage where it's predicted to birth a curse. A low born who will be the downfall of an entire nation if left alive.
...
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"Did you misplace the reasonable element of your mind. Is it even working?"
It might have been offensive if riddled at me. But must I shamelessly admit that it indeed was engaging if someone else was involved.
Because it occurs for once that Dorin's scolding isn't tossed at me. I have been his pupil for so long that my head lowered in embarrassment when I wasn't on the other side of his outrage. In fact- I must be participating with him in this panic. I don't.
"What made you think that a baby is anything but a liability to this journey?"
And to that Castle dared to firm her stare.
'He is a disfavor. But I am willing to care for him"
From my peripheral the tick of Dorin's jaw was evident. So I sniff to ease the tension. Baby Atticus looked like a little packet of flour tied to the back of Castle. She had a blue fur coat on with leather blankets piled upon, through their hood, only their little head bobbed out when they made movements to look elsewhere. Both her and her brother.
On the side of the cabinet, I pulled on my clothes in hustle, one layer after another in hurry. When I laugh they both look at me with bother. But I aim to think quickly rather than scuttle my energy on what's spilled.
"By my daggers! How can you laugh when it equally applies to you? You agreed to commence the journey earlier on my behalf and now you titter when she bought a child with her?"
He could explode, if left untamed. But I could have giggled if it wasn't my life at stake alike. So I jog through the underground safety bunker that we are abjectly stealing from. We had forged the keys to this place when Dorin used to work for a valuable plant artisan. He lived rich with herbs and spices that he restored into recipes and tonics that could keep us warm when the cold dropped like a stone in water.
As of now, he slept peacefully in his cot after he drank his tea, the one Dorin medicated with his creation. Since he was selfish enough to not take an apprentice as Dorin had offered. All we could do was steal from his stash.
"What happened has happened" I grunt loading up my sack with the vials and bottles of potions that we need. "We can't wait till dawn, it's not merely Castle now. They would notice Atticus gone before they would about Castle"
Shoving the lantern at Dorin's face when I was done. I motion him to fill in his needs, which wasn't much. He doesn't need them for cold, but oxygen and thirst.
I don't have to look at Castle to know how torn she was between having to leave her brother or choosing herself. Atticus is the closest she had who didn't stray away from her disability. He adopted the genes that made her. They almost were same. In looks and silence.
I usher her to look out as my boots push heavy on my feet with nerves and anticipation. When she is busy I pick out a vial of oil and feather a drop across my skin and upon my eyelids. In the fading light and by the small cracked mirror by the shelf I notice the waking greens of my eyes dull into brown. It's how it's always been, alteration of the raw features of my skin and eyes even before I could see the flourished one myself. I know they were green, my hair a midnight black that reaches slight past my shoulder. My skin that's inherently rosy and delicate, shadows into a pale one. Greys of endless work hours circles below my eye line and my blushed lips parched into a bloodless surface.
