The next morning in the predawn hours, I wake, do my usual little in bed stretch, and then notice my unfamiliar surroundings which are still shrouded darkness.

  Where am I? Oh, right. The manor in Larkinshire that the mayor is letting us use for our night there.

  I rub the sleep from my eyes and get off of the bed, realizing that I had managed to fall asleep in my clothes from the previous day.

  There is a soft knock at the door and a second later it opens. Mary enters and looks at me standing beside the bed in the dark.

  “Oh. You are awake already, My Lady.” She says, lighting a lamp on the wall near the door. “My apologies for letting you sleep in your garb from yesterday, but Her Grace gave explicit instructions that you were not to be disturbed last night.

  “His Grace sent me to get you up and inform you that we are departing in about an hour. I brought you a change of clothes, so let’s get you dressed for the day.”

  She assists me in getting changed and even does my hair in record time. Seeing that I am properly presenting, she nods in satisfaction.

  “Lady Beira, breakfast will be served soon. Shall I lead you to the dining room?” She says, smiling her usual cheerful smile and I nod.

  She leads me down to where my parent are already seated and bows to my father before leaving.

  “Good morning, Father, Mother.” I say and give a proper curtsey, mainly for the benefit of my mother, before taking my seat.

  A light and simple breakfast of bacon, eggs, and buttered toast with jam, is brought out and placed on the table in front of me. Seeing that my parents had already begun eating, I start on my meal as well. Breakfast conversation is surprisingly subdued, the silence thick enough to cut, but before long it is over and I am being loaded into our carriage to continue our journey. Today, we will be turning to the south, heading out of the densely forested lands of my father and out into the open plains to the south.

  I look out the window at the Loch and town below us, covered in a thick fog that only the tops of buildings stick out of. The lights of the lamps that line the major thoroughfares can be seen from above giving the town an illusion of being built in the clouds. Were it not for the ship masts rising above the thick layer of fog, I would even be able to distinguish where the town ends and the Loch begins. As the sun begins to crest over the horizon the thick blanket takes on a fiery hue, transforming the peaceful cloud town into a swallowed by a sea of fire. It is a beautiful sight.

  The Duke enters the carriage after speaking to the captain of our guard detail, and taps on the roof as soon as he is settled in beside my mother. The carriage gives an initial jerk before smoothing out and then we are on our way. We make our way to the large ramp that alternates it direction between north and south as it gradually lowers us to the base of the large cliff and into what I would call the town proper. The area where the ramp connects back into the main road appears to be dedicated to housing for the citizens of Larkinshire. As we pass though, windows are illuminated in houses. The sounds of parents waking their children can be faintly hear and the smell of food cooking begins to feel the air.

  As we pull out of the residential area, we turn to the south and onto a now bustling market street. Though the fog is still really dense, and bright from the sun’s early illumination, I can see figures scrambling about to get their stalls and storefronts ready for the days business. Here and there a few people stop what they are doing to watch our grand procession, some even give a salute when our carriage, the biggest of the group and bearing the largest of our family crest, passes by. To the ones that salute, my father salutes back, and as if it gives them permission, they end their salutes and get back to what they were doing.

  It must be a military thing. I muse to myself.

  When we reach the southern wall, we don’t even pause, passing through the gates that were opened only moments before in anticipation of our arrival. Father offers another salute to someone I can’t see and then we are surrounded by mist shrouded forests.

  I open the window beside me and pop my head out to look back the way we had come from but only catch a glimpse of the gate as it swings shut before the fog claims it from my vision.

  “Beira, bring your head back in this minute.” I hear my mother say sternly, so I comply. “Seriously, it isn’t safe to do that, young lady.”

  She tuts a bit while shaking her head.

  I close the window, knowing that any kind of rebuttal I might have would just fall on deaf ears. I look around the inside of the carriage trying to figure out what I want to do. My eyes fall on my book, but the lighting isn’t quite bright enough to read comfortably.

  Oh, right. I’m an idiot.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  I pick up the book and settle into the corner by the window, angling my body so that the bit of light from outside helps to illuminate my book. I slowly will the light streaming in to grow brighter until the small print is readable with ease. Smiling to myself, I resist the urge to curl my legs under me, assuming what I call my comfy ball position, and instead sit like a proper lady as I begin reading. After a minute, my eyes flick up to my mother, and I can tell she is judging my posture.

  Judge all you want, mother; this young lady’s posture is flawless.

  As if sensing my gaze, her eyes meet mine.

  “Beira, cross your legs at the knees, not the ankles.” She says, amusement on her face. “And straighten your back a bit, you are slouching.”

  I give her a deadpan look but make the corrections she tells me. She nods in satisfaction and turns her head toward my father. My mother taps his arm and he leans down. She whispers something in his ear and he grins, glancing at me. He whispers something back to her and she nods before settling back into her seat and closing her eyes. My Dad just turns his attention back to the world outside the window and I take that as my queue to turn my attention back to my book.

  What feels like hours pass and I find myself reading the same sentence multiple times, so I place my bookmark and turn my attention to the window. Outside, the fog has lifted and this part of the forest just feels younger. It’s not just because the trees here are smaller, there is something in the air, and energy that feels almost childish. I mention this to my father and nods, explaining that this is indeed the youngest part of the forest and that what I am feeing comes from the trees themselves.

  “Much like a young child, they have an abundance of energy and curiosity. It is not uncommon for travelers through this section of the wood to feel as if they are being watched or mocked. On the odd occasion, there will be a traveler who speaks of having pranks played on them as well, but while the unknowing attribute the pranks to the youthful energy of the forest, it actually is caused by the local Fae having a bit of fun at the person’s expense.” He says, clearly enjoying the chance to share his knowledge with me. “We don’t have to worry about them messing with us though, and even if we did, their pranks are all harmless. Despite the negative view all Fae get due to a few bad apples, the average Fae is pretty friendly if they feel that you are good person and show them no fear.”

  “W-what happens if you show fear?” I ask.

  “That’s when they will usually pull a prank on you.” He explains. “The only ones you would be right to fear are members Autumn and Winter Courts, in particularly their royalty. Those two courts are made of Fae that thrive on chaos. Their royal families are both cunning and vicious.

  “The Autumn Court craves violence and will attack even their own people indiscriminately. Luckily, this means that they spend a lot of time fighting amongst themselves, but occasionally, other courts and races get drawn in to their squabbles. Herne, their king, mostly keeps them confined to their lands, but he has been known to kidnap other races to take part in his ‘hunts’ as a way to help control his people’s bloodthirst.

  “The Winter Court, however, they are the ones you have to watch out for. They will try to lure people into agreements that seem mutually beneficial at first but ultimately, turn one-sided. Their Queen, Mab, is the worst of them all. I mean this with the utmost of sincerity, Beira… Never make a deal with any members of the Winter Court, and if any of them try to introduce you to their queen, run and don’t look back. There are fates worse than death in this world and being trapped in a bargain with Queen Mab is one of those.”

  I am taken aback by the seriousness conveyed in his voice, so I just nod and agree. Having said his piece on the subject, he then smiles.

  “But you shouldn’t have to worry about running into either of those courts around here. The lands of the Dutchy are predominately associated with the Spring Court, and the further south, where we are heading is predominately associated with the Summer Court. The Winter Court tends to mostly stay in Elven lands, though they have been known to come further south and the Autumn Court shifts around between the territories of the other three but usually stay to the east of Ramberg Loch and Marowvie.” He says in conclusion.

  Right then, my stomach decides to growl and, after checking the time, my father signals to stop our caravan and break for lunch.

  I exit the carriage and using this opportunity to its fullest, I stretch and walk around a bit, making sure I keep the caravan in sight. After a short stroll, I find some convenient bushes where I relieve myself before heading back to join everyone else. Just before I reach the caravan where there is a table with various foods in a ‘build your own sandwich’ set up, I see a flash of white light deeper in the forest out of the corner of my eye, but when I turn to find it, there is nothing more than the swinging of low hanging branches. I shrug and turn back to the caravan and make my way over towards the table. I recognize a few of the faces gathered around as the servants that have joined us on this trip, including Mary.

  As I approach, everyone stops what they are doing and the conversations die down. Finally, Mary speaks up.

  “Do you need anything, My Lady?” She asks, and I suddenly feel a bit like an outsider and realize I am intruding upon the servant’s time, where they don’t have to worry about keeping up the fa?ade they show to my parents and me.

  The weight of all the eyes upon me feels overwhelming and I shake my head.

  “Not at all, M-mary. Everyone.” I say, giving a slight bow. “I’m s-s-sorry I int-terrupted your meal while out s-stretching my legs.”

  I scurry away before the crimson shade of my embarrassment has time to show.

  Soon I happen upon my parents who are eating at a small table set right outside of our big carriage. I join them and soon a plate of cold cut meats, cheeses, and crackers as well as a bowl of what looks to be a carrot soup, are placed before me.

  “Where did you wander off to?” My mother asks in between bites.

  “I needed t-to stretch my legs for a b-bit.” I explain, pointedly focusing on my food to hopefully prevent further questions. I know she would be mortified to find out I interrupted the staff during their meal, so I decide not to share that with her.

  “Aye, riding in that wee little carriage for hours on end can get a bit cramped, right, lass?” My father asks.

  “Wee?” I repeat incredulously, forgetting that I had just stuffed food into my mouth.

  “Beira, don’t talk with your mouth full.” My mother says with a sigh, her expression flat. She then turns to me father. “And don’t you encourage her.”

  “Ehh?” Both my dad and I manage to say at the exact same time with the exact same expression on out faces.

  My mother sighs again and raises a hand to her forehead, as if she has a headache.