The Farren Queens

Amara

Fanthe was not made for storms, even weak ones. If they didn't catch a boat to Amberford, it could be weeks until they were able to get across.

When I get back, I'll fix this. she vowed.

Amara pulled her ruined shoes on and flung open the door. She didn't have time to think about why Samir had lied about his kouzlo, or what William Bates had planned. She ushered for Samir to follow her down the stairs. Each step groaned under her feet as she flew into the entryway.

Amara slowed down to let Samir catch up, then grabbed his wrist and sprinted towards the docks. The smell of fish hung in the air, like laundry left to sit for too long. She ignored it and headed for the ferry.

Out of breath, she said, "Tickets for two, please."

"That will be three Fares."

"I'm very sorry good sir," Samir said, "but our money was stolen from us moments ago. However, our son is the founder of this wonderful river company, and I'm sure he would hate to hear that you denied his parents access."
    
Had she been in the ticket master's shoes, she would have believed Samir. It scared her that if not for her kouzlo, she would have been gullible to anyone who talked to her. Over the past nine years, Amara had perfected her kouzlo, and she had forgotten what life was like without it. To almost believe a lie felt like a chink in her armor.
   
Amara tried to forget about it as she added,"Yes, he tends to have a short temper. Have you met him?"
   
"Black hair and green eyes?" The man asked.
   
"That's him."
   
"You two are awfully young to have a child."
  
There was an awkward silence before Samir said, "We were fortunate enough to get immortality from Terra Mons. We may look young, but we have lived a long life." Samir told him.
  
The station master looked between them, trying to find any traces of dishonesty. When he found none, he opened the small gate leading to the boat. "Enjoy your ride."
   
The boat was empty aside from the captain. It was an old wooden rowboat, cracked at the edges. It scared Amara to see a large captain on such a small boat, but he looked at the water as if he had grown up there.
 
"How long will it take?" She asked.
   
"Different everyday, Mrs. Camole." The captain said.
   
Camole must be the owner's name.
  
"It says right there." The voice in her head seemed to say. She looked at the paddles of the boat. Though they were plain, the paddles read,

                             Camole Crossings
                Over the river and to the woods
   
The pilot pulled out of the docks without a word, and began down the river.  The river lapped against the hull of the rowboat and splashed onto Amara's skirt, and a cold breeze drifted through the air, reminding her that winter was weeks away.  As they floated across the river, she noticed that the leaves had fallen from the trees.  Just days ago, they seemed to be on fire, but now the trees were nothing more than skeletons.
   
The current sped up, but the pilot didn't seem to mind the growing rapids and turns.  The sky darkened, and rain began to fall in sheets. In moments, Amara was soaked to the bone. Next to her, Samir had begun to shiver, and he hugged his arms close to his chest. A crash of lightning startled them both, but the captain remained focused. He steered them through the rapids with ease,  and before they knew it, they were at the Amberford docks. The wind had slowed, but rain continued to pour down on the city. They stopped beside the pier, and the captain helped Amara out. When she thanked him, he grumbled and walked straight for the nearest tavern.
   
Water puddled on the brick roads, and despite the hour, people had lit lanterns in their homes. The clouds were too low to see the palace, but Amara could just see the outline of the castle. For the first time in what felt like years, Amara was home, but Amberford was not the same.
   
Though the city itself had not changed, the streets were emptier than Amara had ever seen. A few years ago, a plague had sent everyone into quarantine, but even then hunger had forced people out of their homes. It was an odd feeling, being home with no one to greet you.
   
Samir joined her on the pier. "Where to?"
   
"This way." she answered. She left the docks and began weaving through alleys and streets, half expecting to wind up on a new street. Growing up, Amara had spent the majority of her free time wandering the streets of Amberford in disguise. She had learned all of its nooks and crannies over the years, and was the first to know about new restaurants or shops. But walking down the well-known streets felt different now. She felt as if she were in a different realm, a different world, and it was not hers.
   
Amara turned into her favorite bakery. The door was open, but when they went inside, nobody was there. It was warm and dry inside, and Samir sighed in relief to be out of the freezing rain. All of the lights were on, and the smell of freshly baked bread told Amara that it had not been empty for long.
   
Where is everyone?

"Your guess is as good as mine." Her conscience replied.

Samir grabbed a sweet roll from the display case and took a bite.
   
"Hey!" Amara cried, "You can't do that!"
   
"It's not that big of a deal. C'mon, they're amazing." he said as he finished it and offered Amara one.
  
"No!"

"How do you know they're not good? You haven't even tried one."
   
Amara sighed. "I know the rolls are delicious, I've had them before. You can't just steal from them! They have a small child they need to support."

"Then why does Farren tax them so heavily?"

"We don't!"

"You don't? Then why do you live in luxury while your people are starving?" Samir demanded. He slammed the roll back on the display case.

"I was queen for an hour, and you're blaming me for our country's problems?" she yelled.

"You've always had influence! Weren't you brought to diplomatic meetings?"

Amara looked away. Her father had never invited her to meetings, saying she was too young to understand such difficult topics. When her mother took a turn for the worse, her father was forced to retire early, leaving Amara to take the throne long before she was ready.

It took Samir a moment to catch on. Once he did, he muttered, "That explains it."

Explains what? She wanted to scream.

"Don't worry about it. It's probably nothing."

Lie.

Of all the things Amara had done, she had never lied to herself before.