JUNE ZEILRAN knows one thing: he is destined to live a quiet life in the servant's quarters as a half-blood in a territory of fairies. When the Imperial High Queen offers him a job he cannot refuse, he is thrown into a world of secrets and murder t...
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2402 Crescin 6; Jered Kilemna
The noise in Carcalet was so nonexistent June thought he was losing his hearing. Apart from the dry crackle of dagrine hooves against the cobbled road and the occasional creaks of the carriage's wheels as they lumbered forward, there was nothing to be gleaned from the streets. Not a bustle of merchants. Not a chatter from fairies with too much time on their hands. There's not even some loitering about. It's like a god snapped their fingers and vanished all the people.
If June would imagine what Gulstead would look like based on the gossip and hearsay he heard from the servants, perhaps, he'd have come up with Carcalet instead.
His breath came out in an annoying, warm puff past his nose. A finger hooked against the collar biting into his neck. Whoever thought high collars in the rage of the Lantegian heat was going to be a good idea? He glanced down at the ridiculous garb he was donned in. Long, brown sleeves covered his pale arms, stopping by his wrists and framing his thin limbs quite tightly. It hurt folding his arms as the bunched up material dug against his skin.
The uniform was shoved into his arms the moment the messenger from the Imperial Palace showed up in front of their house. After taking one look at June and at the nicest tunic he owned, he told his mother to help him get changed.
And now, not even a few hours since leaving Edgerift, June decided he hated uniforms and how ridiculous they made him feel. He's supposed to wear this until he graduates? Unbelievable. The only saving grace of the whole ordeal was perhaps the new leather boots he got as part of the uniform. This one at least felt like it wasn't eating his toes for dinner. It's probably the only thing he'd keep.
The carriage he was stashed in resembled a merchant's cart if it has been purged of its wares and resident trader. Despite the abundance of them filtering in and out of the Servant's District in Edgerift, it was weird to finally find himself inside one. Too bad the fancy big animals normally used were replaced by a boring brick red dagrine, and the stereotypical cheery and personable trader, a stern, frowny red coat.
Not that June had something against Red Coats. They existed to protect Lanteglos, the High Queen, and her numerous advisers such as the Seelie and Unseelie Court. Without them, other races might have succeeded in raiding the Junction City and plunged the island into chaos. It's just that most of the red coats had the authoritative air around them that didn't sit well with June.
Well, whatever. He was probably some clueless schmuck ordered around by the High Queen to pick up a scruffy kid from the Servant's District to drop off at the Academy. June shouldn't hold against the red coat to not fully know what he was being asked to do.
He extended his hand and his fingers brushed against the velvet curtains shielding his view of the streets. Much like the countless afternoons he spent in the darkness of his house poking at the glass windows, he drew the curtain back and came face-to-face with something he never thought he would see in his lifetime.
