The Tower of Nearness

Chapter 12: What had Changed

Lucian cracked one eye half open as he resurfaced from the sea of dreams. Dust particles danced throughout the warm, steady shafts of pale morning light. He sniffed and opened his other eye. A pleasant, sugary smell wafted under his nose, he turned his head to follow its source.

Rather obviously, it came from the kitchen. He attempted to get up but was swiftly reminded of his sprain by a sharp pang of pain that raced from his ankle to the top of his thigh.

"Argh!" He grunted out. He breathed through his teeth, willing the pain to subside.

"Good morning!" Seren poked her head out of the entryway. "I was just about to wake you for breakfast!"

She was smiling cheerily at him as if they'd always lived together. He returned her smile with a sheepish one of her own.

He felt completely out of his depth. Like a farmer suddenly thrown on a boat and told to be the captain.

"I made pancakes." She smiled, "one of the village ladies taught me."

He looked over her. She was in a dress, which was a bit of relief after seeing her in men's clothes. He frowned at how that last thought made him feel like some old curmudgeon. However, it wasn't a dress that Lucian would imagine a princess wearing. Princesses, in his experience, were wont to wearing bright, colourful mounds of endless silks and shimmering gauzes. This, however, was a serviceable brown skirt that ended at her ankles; its front was a simple square with two black buttons that held the straps over her shoulders keeping the dress up. Underneath was a cream undershirt with sleeves that buttoned at the wrists.

Her long black hair was tied by a cherry red ribbon into a simple tail that trailed down her back.

Lucian scratched his gruff, unshaven chin keenly aware of the difference between his messy appearance and her morning glow.

Shaking his head, he refocused on the present moment. Something she said the night before had stuck with him.

"Wait." He said as she started walking to the kitchen.

She paused and turned to face him. She raised a brow while he grappled to put his thoughts in order.

"You've gone into the village," he started, "do they know who you are? Do they know that you're the supposedly cursed princess?"

"No. They think I live on a farm, a little way outside of the village."

"How have managed to keep it secret for so long?" he asked in awe.

"They're not the type of people who like to nose around other people's business." She shrugged.

"Wait, what about Mary-Ann?" He asked, recalling his encounter and ensuing battle of bargains with the woman.

"What about her?"

"She didn't mention anything about you. She just argued about the price."

"Oh," she paused, "well, Mary-Ann has never asked me about myself, I think she keeps to her business and doesn't much care to interfere with anyone else's either."

"And the orphanage?"

"Who knows?" She shrugged and walked into the kitchen, "maybe they thought you were my husband or some kind soul who I hired? Now, do you like lemon and sugar or honey?"

"What?" He could hardly keep up with her quick change of topic.

"For your pancakes." She explained.

"Oh, honey." He murmured. All of this was so surreal to him. However, he supposed he better get used to it. At least she wasn't planning to cast a spell in him. For now.