Glass Rose

Chapter 7A

The wind was starting to pick up, flicking the ends of the red scarf back into her face. Each gallop brought along another icy gust, as goosebumps settled into Laera's skin. Luckily, it had taken a short amount of time to get to the border of Onryda, and as the white tents came into view, Laera tucked any remaining hairs into the fabric adorning her face and prepared to dismount.

The Captain kept his features calm, getting down slowly and then offering his hand to her. Her hand pressed into his, feeling the rough texture as she attempted to get down gracefully.

Her plan was cut short when he pulled her into his embrace. Stumbling, her lips pressed into a thin line as the Captain brushed his hand along her waist and leaned closer to her ear. "Border guards. Keep your head low, stay close."

If it weren't for the curved swords strapped to their sides, the guards would've seemed more like citizens. Rather than a brightly-colored uniform, they wear covered in animal skins. Brown leather boots blended together with the fur vests and hats, drowning out the paleness of their wearers. Straps cut into abstract shapes were draped wildly around their shoulders, appearing as if they were tacked on last minute.

The guards seemed lax, most of them sitting or chatting, taking only a few moments to spare them a glance before returning to their conversations. Laera stumbled ahead, the Captain at her side, and the horses clopping at her heels.

A stout man awaited them at the edge of the path, his pen anxiously tapping away at the edge of a notebook. The thick stench of cigarettes rolled off of him as his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Names?"

"Alec. This is Lora." Laera shot him a glare through the corner of her eye, but much to her dismay he ignored it, a slight grin resting upon his face.

"Last names?"

"Rainweld." The man scribbled it out across the sheet.

"Wait in the tent in the far left. We'll just need to check your supplies, ask you a few more questions, and you'll be on your way. Leave your horses outside."

Miniature red flags lined the front of each tent. Most of them were being used as storage, and much less spacious than she had expected them to be. The last tent was bare, excluding the two cushions on the floor. Even with his back hunched, the Captain's head still managed to graze across the roof, ruffling some of his hair as he sat down.

"Lora? Really?"

"Would you have preferred it if I introduced you as Princess Laera, heir to the Fotian throne, to the only major country we currently are at war with?"

"What about your name?"

"I didn't need to change my first name. Yours put you in danger. Unless you want someone to overhear, I suggest you keep quiet about the matter."

Her lips pursed together. "Then I suggest you pull yourself together." She crouched down beside him. "You look terrible."

"Terribly handsome, you mean?"

"No." She leaned over to push the loose strands back into place. "You look more like a beggar than a traveler."

He remained quiet enough while she brushed the dirt away from his face. Her hands worked to straighten his appearance out, attempting, and failing, to keep her eyes off his smirk. His voice softened, "What gave me away?"

"Other than the dried blood and layer of mud sticking to your sweat?" She mustered her energy into focusing on keeping her expression as nonchalant as possible. "The stench."

The sound that came off his lips caught her off guard.

Laughter had been a rare thing to find in the castle. Her mother's illness, the king's death, and the war were not exactly humorous subjects, and the only times Laera had truly heard the sound was in dinners or with Kris. Even then, dinners were only held on special occasions, and Kris was gone so frequently, her memories of laughter ranged from polite giggles laced with hidden intentions to over-the-top roars of laughter given only to appeal to the Queen's favor.

The Captain's laugh was neither. It was simple and short, yet was so naturalistic she wondered if it was real at all. It was deep, she recalled, laced with such purity, her heart seemed to squeeze with the resolve to join him and her lungs called out for air to mimic his sound. Red took over her face in an instant, her lips parted in protest and suprise.

She wanted to make him laugh again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rainweld?"

Laera, lips stumbling out small noises and cherry-red cheeks doing her no favors only turned to face the voice, gaping at him. The Captain, thankfully more composed, inched closer to her before acknowledging the man poking his head through the tent's entrance. "Yes?"

"Your luggage is waiting outside, along with your animals. I only have a few required questions before I let you leave."

"Of course," Laera closed her mouth, nodded in accordance with the Captain's words, and tried to calm her nerves.

"Are you passing through, or do you plan to stay here? If you are staying, how long will you be inside the city?" The man had entered inside the tent, holding a notepad and a pen.

"Passing through, hopefully. If we stay, it will only be for a night at most."

"Main reason for coming to Onryda?"

"More supplies."

"Where are you coming from?"

"Miriat. The Northern part of Traison. We got a little lost and ended up having to make part of the trip through an old trail in the forest." Laera knew the explanation was more for her than for the man in front of them.

"Long trip, then. You must be exhausted. Last question," The main began jotting notes down, as he signed something on the bottom and peered up at them. "Any recent contact with any Fotian supporters, members of Fotia, colonial guards, or mutts on your way here?"

Laera looked up at Alec.

"No," His face remained still, no hint of the lie written anywhere in his face or in his mannerisms. If he lied to her, she wouldn't be able to tell the difference. He was highly observant, precise and careful not to shake or make any mistakes. An actor playing the part of a normal man. "We haven't."

"Great. Sorry to have kept you waiting so long, and enjoy your visit to Onryda."

"Thank you." A cordial smile stretched on his face, not quite meeting his eyes and disappearing the moment the guard turned around. The Captain stretched his arm around her waist, gently poking her ribs. Head low, stay close, the reminder echoed.

Gathering their belongings, the Captain led her along a sullen trail, the gravel stretching out for a long while, letting the worries seep in as the Captain stayed wrapped around her side. "You're shaking, Laera."

She didn't respond. Nothing felt right, the unsettling cold rattling her bones as the eyes of the men at the border bore into her back as she walked. They would notice something. It went too well. There was something off, there had to be.

"Laera. We're fine. Just keep close, keep walking, we're close to the gates."

She pressed herself into his side, the closeness becoming less and less strange to her as he pulled her tight. The Captain threw his head back, glancing at the trail behind them. "Keep walking. We're being tailed. Just keep walking straight and we'll hole up in a shop for awhile. Close your eyes if you feel yourself getting anxious, and I'll make sure you don't get hurt."

She debated against completely letting the Captain guard her, but eventually gave in, only hearing the wind and the slight chirping in the background of their hustling and the incessant stomping of the horses.

She heard the soft screams of the iron gate as it's melancholy creak rang out, quickly followed by the Captain pulling her through. When she opened her eyes, the surprisingly warm sight of bustling shops and a market sharply contrasted the gray skies. The Captain fastened the horses quickly to a lead in the ground.

"In here. Quickly." She wasn't ready for his hand on her back, and her stumbling intensified the headache which had manifested.

In her face was a bouquet of glass roses, sparkling with the glow of the candles lighting up the place.

"Ah!" A tall, plump man, with a long face and graying hair smiled at them. "More customers! How can I help you today?"