Braelyn tried not to let her face betray her inner turmoil, but inside her stomach clenched. Butterflies fluttered around her stomach as she thought of meeting the man that was her father.
“You mentioned the King was
once
a powerful man... what has become of him?”
Laken smiled crookedly, “He is a shell of a man, the death of his wife and the disappearance of his daughter broke him, Terra was destroyed That Night, the invading army retreated, but their work had been completed, Terra to this day is not the kingdom it once was, the King has allowed Inlo to enforce its rule as he is too weak to fight it. Soon Inlo will rule Terra, and the King will truly become useless.”
It was not the news that Braelyn wanted to hear, “When – when can I speak with him.”
“The next day of Parley, the day when the King invites those of his land to speak directly to him, it is in a month’s time.”
Braelyn drummed her fingers on the table next to her as Laken explained their plan. She was not listening to him, but remembering how they had met. It still made her smile and still reminded her starkly how much they owed him. He looked different to her now, though she knew nothing had changed, he still had the alert, suspicious eyes, the long hair tied tightly to the nape of his neck and the tanned skin from hours of working in the sun. But he was less dangerous and no longer a stranger.
Laken was pacing quickly, gesturing as he spoke. Braelyn tried to listen but his voice bore a hole in her head and she found her mind wandering. What would her father look like when she met him? He would be strong; she was sure, with a long beard and would instantly recognise her. He would lift her up in his arms and hug her. The years apart would mean nothing and in that moment all sadness would be destroyed. She smiled to herself at the thought.
“Braelyn!” Laken shouted, slamming his palm against the table as he spoke. Braelyn jumped at the mention of her name, “I have fed you and housed you for over a month and the moment that you have been waiting for is today and you cannot even listen for five minutes!”
Griffin shuffled in his seat angrily. He been wary of Laken the moment he had met him and the feeling had only dimmed over the month. Laken was always distracted, and seemed to be constantly battling himself; he was rude and terse, seemingly from years of being on his own. He had kept them fed for a month it was true and they had lived comfortably, each finding a way to help Laken in return. Braelyn mended his clothes and cooked the food he scavenged and bought. Griffin and Jareth had more than happily showed him defence techniques and Laken had been happy to learn, though his offensive techniques were beyond amazing. His cottage was small, one bedroom and a living and retiring room, a kitchen and a very small bathroom. It was dark and smelt slightly of damp. Braelyn had tried her best to brighten the place up, bringing in wild flowers she scavenged from around the cottage and cleaning the whole place. In turn Laken had never asked them why they had to visit the King, though it was clear he was curious, he seemed content just to help them, though Griffin was sure it had more to do with Braelyn than the kindness of his heart.
Griffin settled back into his seat and continued to listen to Laken.
“The gates will open at sunrise,” Laken said, “there is never a queue, many have given up trying to talk to their King, so the visit should not take long.” Laken smiled encouragingly but Braelyn could only manage a grimace in return. She had lived in a state of nervous denial for the past month, befriending Laken and enjoying her time with Griffin and Jareth, but the day had finally come to meet her father and she did not know if she was ready. She nodded her head at Laken and excused herself from the room, walking into the kitchen to look out of the window. She saw nothing but the stone wall of the house opposite, but it let a cool breeze and golden sunlight through. The chill of winter was gone from the weather, and now it was almost summer; though the wind was still cold and the skies still grey.
She could not believe three months ago she was newly transferred to Woodstone, a life of misery ahead of her. So much had changed and she felt light headed as she remembered it all. Today she met her father and if all went well, claimed the right to call him that. She could not help but wish wholeheartedly that he was not the King of Terra; a simple shoemaker would have been all she would have wished for. The fact he was King made matters so much more complicated. She wished she had Wynn’s gift of sensing other’s emotions, it would make what she had to do so much easier. The King would surely reject her at first; he thought she was dead, or at least unaware of her heritage. To know what he thought would make the meeting go so much more smoothly, because to be able to prove without doubt who she was would be the hardest thing she would ever do. How many others had tried their luck claiming to be the long lost Princess? So many that the King would have lost all hope.
Braelyn heard footsteps behind her but she did not turn, she could tell instantly who it was. Laken stepped up beside her and looked out of the window. They said nothing, but Braelyn did not need Wynn and Arabella’s ability to know there was much Laken wished to say. She turned to him and smiled softly. Laken had to glance away, in the golden light Braelyn looked completely angelic and he did not wish for her to see how his eyes would soften when he looked at her.
“What troubles you Laken?” She said when it was clear Laken would not speak first. He looked out of the window before he spoke, rubbing his face wearily and when he did eventually turn back to Braelyn his face was impassive.
“I wonder what you will say to the King, getting in to see him will not be hard, they cannot deny anyone’s right to visit him; but once you are there, then what?”
“You must not worry, I fear if I say you will not help me, and I need your help now more than ever Laken. I have it in mind what I will say.”
Laken nodded and Braelyn felt, once again, grateful for all his help. He had been so supportive without ever asking what they were doing, without demanding an explanation, which Braelyn thought was entirely his right to do. Even when descriptions, matching their likeness exactly, appeared on posters plastered around the town, demanding their capture, he had said nothing. And now she was asking him to trust her, why should he? He could easily have turned them in and reaped the benefits of the reward money and army’s favour, but he had not. She watched him go, saying no more and leaving quietly. Taking a deep, shuddering breath Braelyn went to the bathroom to wash and fix her hair. She knew she could not help her clothes; they were as clean as they ever would be, but she could not disguise all the repairs and they fact that they were clothes of a peasant, grey leggings, a long white shirt and grey jerkin. Braelyn filled the bath absentmindedly, and clambered into it whilst it was still boiling. She yelped and jumped out, hopping on her burnt feet.
“Braelyn? What happened?” A voice called from the other side of the door.
“Nothing!” She cried, flushing bright red with embarrassment, she did not wish for them to know how truly afraid she was to meet the King, her father, how it was all she could think of, how it was causing her common sense to fly right out the window, “The water was just too hot,” she finished.
She listened for a grunt of recognition and then retreating footsteps before gently lowering herself into the bath. She could not help going through a thousand scenarios whilst she washed herself and her hair. Would he happy to see her? Or sad? Would she have to explain herself or would he accept her straight away? So many questions that she could not answer and that tortured her; she rubbed her face wearily and stepped out of the bath, drying herself. She dressed and stood before the mirror trying to decide how to do her hair. Up or down? She tried out different styles before letting it swing down her back. What did it matter? However she looked she was going before the King of the whole land and asking him to accept her as his daughter, she grabbed a scarf to cover her hair and left the bathroom.
The boys were waiting for her in the kitchen. She walked into the room and suddenly the air felt different, tense. She glanced at Griffin and Jareth, who smiled, but she knew what they were thinking, in their eyes she was already a Princess and they supported her completely. She felt tears well and she brushed them away hurriedly, now was no time for tears. She took a deep breath and nodded at them all.
“You are ready?” Laken asked, his voice serious. It was clear he grasped the importance of the situation, even if he did not know what was happening.
Braelyn did not trust her voice so she nodded and together they stepped out of Laken’s cottage, her heart in her mouth. The bustle of the town helped the travellers become inconspicuous. Laken had ordered Braelyn to cover her hair due to the rumours that Inlo’s army were looking for a young girl with blonde hair, blue eyes of roughly Braelyn’s age, and he did not want to take the chance of being falsely arrested. Braelyn laughed nervously when he mentioned it and pulled her scarf further down her head.
As they walked Laken flashed encouraging smiles in her direction and she skipped uncertainly beside him full of suppressed excitement and nervousness. But before long, as happened everyday when he left his cottage, taunts and jibes were shouted at Laken, they ranged from the comical to the obscene and hurtful and Braelyn watched with shock as his shoulders slumped in defeat. He had never mentioned that he was treated this way. Braelyn winced every time someone yelled at him, and gasped when someone threw a rotten tomato his way. It went on for what felt like hours, the town was a large one, with wide courtyards and there was no choice sometimes but to cross them.
She glanced at Laken until she was sure a hole would appear in his head from the intensity, but he refused to look up or at her and just kept striding forward. Furious for her friend she strode forward and linked his arm, smiling at the men and women who could not hide their shock that someone had befriended the ‘traitor’. Braelyn did not know why Laken was treated this way but she was sure he did not deserve it.
“What are you doing?” Laken said stiffly when she linked her arm through his.
“People should not be so cruel,” Braelyn replied, pulling her scarf further down her head so that all of her hair was covered. Laken smiled and held his head a little higher, oblivious to the smirk Griffin and Jareth shared as they walked behind them.
The King’s castle loomed in the distance, it did not have the typical curtain wall, instead favouring a black painted, wrought iron
balustrade – a railing with support at the bottom. It was over twenty feet tall and although they had been
moulded into the shape of roses and ivy
they looked incredibly sturdy. A large two piece gate was open, two guards standing either side, wearing the brown uniform of Inlo’s army, swords slung over their shoulder. Through the balustrade the castle grounds could be seen. There was over twenty acres of lush grassy land, trees surrounding the castle. The castle door too was open and guarded by soldiers.
When they reached the gates Griffin and Jareth stopped.
“You are not coming with us?” Braelyn said quietly, suddenly feeling very young, about to attempt something foolish.
Griffin smiled and hugged her, “We do not know the ways of Terra and all three of us together match the description of the outlaws. It would draw too much attention to us. We trust Laken to look after you.”
Laken puffed his chest a little, unwittingly. Braelyn stared at Griffin and Jareth with what she hoped was a neutral expression, she knew they already viewed her as a Princess and she did not want them to know how frightened she was, how the thought of them leaving her was crushing her. She nodded stiffly and hugged them tight before walking with Laken up to the gates. They were stopped instantly by the guards, demanding their business. Braelyn turned to Laken, expecting him to answer but he had slumped his shoulders and was smiling idiotically at the solider.
“We are here to see the King,” she said slowly, realising Laken would not answer for them, she did not know what he was doing but she knew better than to act as though his expression was anything but normal.
The guard nodded and looked at Laken, “You’re that idiot boy,” he stated, not expecting Laken to answer. Laken kept completely still, not reacting to the guards comment. Braelyn glanced at him hoping he was keeping his cool under the calm facade. She had seen him practise with Griffin and Jareth and knew he was deadly with or without a sword. The guard moved forward and prodded him arrogantly; Laken allowed himself to sway slightly but stood his ground.
“The King don’t care about you,” the guard said nudging his college as though it was all some hilarious joke, “you think he thinks of all of you when he walks around his huge castle?” The guard moved his attention to Braelyn and sneered, “You can’t fool anyone, what is she? A hired whore?”
Braelyn bristled but said nothing, afraid to ruin the only chance they had to see her father, beside her she could feel Laken tense and she gently and subtly placed her hand on his arm. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and calmed himself down. The guards saw nothing of the exchange and merely laughed and waved them on. They walked uncertainly through the gate and onto a cobbled path through the grassy grounds. It was bordered by rose bushes and was pleasant to look at, but Braelyn could not bring herself to admire the place that should have been her home, her mouth was dry and she could barely walk on her shaking legs. If Laken sensed her terror he said nothing of it, and Braelyn was glad, she felt like she was about to fall apart at any moment. The guards at the huge open doors to castle waved them on wordlessly, aiming a kick in Laken’s direction.