“That will do for now,” she breathed. “It’s stuffy in this carriage.”
“For now?”
She smiled again. “Try not to worry. You’ll get used to all of it in time.”
I wasn’t convinced, but I nodded weakly. “Can I please get some air?”
“You’re not allowed to leave the carriage, but we can open the windows.”
I pushed past Ebb as she parted the curtains and opened the windows, desperate for fresh air. The cool breeze that hit me was welcome now. I couldn’t imagine I’d ever be cold again in all this clothing. I was still sucking in breath when Captain Osius appeared from the front of the carriage.
“Milady,” he said, bowing. “The gown suits you. Are you ready to leave?”
I glanced down at the gown, which suited me about as well as a lobster shell fit a crab, then back at Ebb. “I—I believe so.”
“Very good.” He nodded and disappeared again.
“Best sit down, milady. The ride can be a bit bumpy at times.”
Before I could take a seat, the driver yelled something to the horses, and the carriage lurched forward, sending me sprawling against the velvet cushions. I looked up at Ebb, who gave another of her kind laughs and helped me sit up. “You’ll get used to it, milady. I promise.”
A few minutes later, my senses bombarded by too many sights, sounds, and smells at once, I ran to the window, threw back the curtains, and emptied the contents of my stomach all over the carriage door.
* * *
Just as Elder Nemea had predicted, the rest of the journey was long and painful, as I suffered through what Captain Osius called “land sickness.” And sick I was, even worse than the time Zadie and I had inadvertently purchased bad meat from a trader. Ebb cared for me like a child, helping me to change in and out of my dresses, bringing me cups of a tea made from ginger, valerian root, and bugbane to help with my sickness. The ingredients were as foreign as everything else, but they did settle my stomach enough that I was able to eat a bit on the third day.
I didn’t see anyone except for Ebb, with the occasional glimpse of Grig or the captain outside the window of the carriage. Ebb and I slept inside, and at night, the deep laughter of the men around the fire, coupled with the thick tang of wood smoke, made me ache for home. The carriage began to feel like a net around me, and I fought against a sensation I’d never experienced, like something inside of me was clawing to be free. When I wasn’t sick, I napped, but try as I might to pretend the carriage was a boat and the rough road beneath us a choppy sea, my mind and body would not be fooled.
On the morning of the fifth day, Captain Osius came to check on me before we started moving. “We’ll be on Ilarean soil in a few hours,” he assured me. “You’ll finally be able to leave the carriage and stretch a bit.”
When Elder Nemea had told me the journey would be long, I hadn’t understood that I wouldn’t be able to leave the carriage for days. Ilara had once stretched across the entire continent, but in the past few generations, uprisings had become more common, and we were traveling through two other territories on our journey. The first, Meradin, was mostly thick forest, with small villages here and there along the road. It had been easy to take from the king, apparently, because it was close to the shore, and the king never ventured far from the mountains.
But the land we traveled through now, Pirot, was more disputed. Every week, the rebels claimed more land. A large river was the last physical border protecting Ilara from invaders, Ebb explained.
“When will we reach the castle?” I asked Captain Osius, trying not to sound too desperate. But I didn’t know how much longer I could last without fresh air and sunlight.
“Not until sunset, I’m afraid. But don’t worry. Soon the road will be nothing but a distant memory.” He smiled, but even he looked like he was ready to be home. His beard was becoming unruly, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
We rattled to a stop a few hours after breakfast, and I flew to the window, ignoring Ebb’s pleas that I remain in my seat. We were stopped at the foot of a large wooden bridge that spanned a shimmering mass of water so vast, I at first mistook it for the ocean.
“The River Ilara,” Ebb explained, joining me at the window.
“Does that mean...?”
“Yes, milady. Just across the river is your new home.”
I peered farther out of the window. Home. The word would always evoke Varenia for me, even if I spent the next hundred years in Ilara. Captain Osius was speaking to a man standing at the foot of the bridge. He was dressed similarly to the captain—Ebb had explained that the thick leather plates the men wore were called armor, designed to protect them in battle—but the crest painted on his chest was a white tree framed by a black-and-silver shield.
“Who governs Pirot?” I asked.
“King Xyrus would argue he is still the ruler here. But these soldiers wear the crest of Lord Clifton.” She lowered her voice. “He’s actually just a commoner who made himself a lord. These are his soldiers.”
Sami had mentioned talk of war in the South, but this wasn’t the South. Did he know the disputes reached this far north?
The chatter outside grew louder and more animated, and Ebb tugged on my sleeve. “Best to wait inside.”
“I’m hardly outside,” I started to say, when a man’s face appeared next to the window.
He was the same man Osius had been speaking with. He was shorter than the Ilarean guards, with a body the shape and size of a water barrel, and his breath stank of alcohol.
“So, this is to be your new queen?” he asked Osius. He examined me so fully I felt the scar on my cheek burn. I’d been careful to keep it covered, reapplying the stain whenever Ebb left the carriage, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever stop being conscious of it. “The most beautiful girl in all of Varenia.” He licked his lips. “I bet your commander wishes he were the firstborn instead, eh?”
The captain strode over, looking furious. “To prevent us from crossing is an act of war, Riv.”
“Steady on, Os.” The man leered at me before returning to the front of the carriage. “Let ’em cross!” he called to someone I couldn’t see.
“Are you all right, milady?” Osius asked me.
I took my seat. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t worry about him,” Ebb said. “He’s an ignorant mercenary. Most of Clifton’s soldiers came from the South to escape the woman king.”
I raised my eyebrows. “‘Woman king’? Don’t you mean queen?”
“She calls herself a king, and they say she’s amassing an army. These men fled to escape conscription, preferring to work as sellswords instead. But they don’t belong here. King Xyrus will drive them back as soon as he’s well.”