Summoned (2)

Ilya could not be reasoned with. Every morning, they started out later and every evening, stopped sooner. They stopped when a horse threw a shoe. They stopped for lunch. They stopped to send scouts ahead to check the safety of the road.

When confronted, Ilya was polite and distant, insisting that the frequent stops 'couldn't be helped'. He refused to be drawn into any further arguments about it, and would simply walk away if Talia continued to insist that they didn't need to stop again.

Yet his face when he didn't know she was watching him, told a different story. It grew more drawn and haggard by the day- his eyes always darting from one side of the road to the other, and then, up to the sky. He was nervous, jumping when approached by the men, and had deep shadows beneath his eyes-- suggesting that he was not sleeping much if at all.

Their pace was so slow, that rumors of the Princess of Vezda traveling to meet with the Emperor had made it down the road much faster than their actual carriage, and as they passed through each town, the streets were thronged with curious onlookers, craning their necks to try and catch a glimpse.

She would often have to wait long in the carriage for Ilya to bargain for private rooms and meals and for the men to clear the people from the area.

On the morning of the fifth day after receiving the Emperor's summons, Talia finished her breakfast and stepped outside to find Ilya pacing nervously before the tavern while watching the sky.

He stopped when he noticed her and offered her a polite smile.

"Good morning, Princess," he greeted her. "I trust you had a pleasant sleep?"

"What will it be that stops us from leaving this morning? Was there a flea found on one the horses and now we'll have to bathe them all, or perhaps you're waiting to consult with a fortune teller to get the most accurate prediction of the weather in the capitol?'" she demanded, ignoring his greeting.

"We will not delay long. We will meet up with some of our Prince's servants from Bludston on the road today, and we do not want to miss the timing," he answered quickly.

"Servants from Bludston?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, your lady's maid is coming, along with some of your things, and a few additional soldiers. You'll need proper attire to meet with the Emperor, and someone will need to see to your hair and... well, perhaps assist you with a bath or some rouge... whatever it is that ladies do to look presentable," he waved a hand dismissively.

His eyes darted twice to the sky as he spoke, and Talia did not miss it.

"Still no word?" she guessed.

"What?" he asked, turning sharply to look at her.

"From Prince Mikhail. You've had no word since before Napolanva, have you?" she asked, lowering her voice.

Ilya stared at her for a long silent moment, and she could see the struggle in his eyes. Whether he should admit what she knew already, or to deny it.

"No, I have not," he finally admitted.

"You're worried," she realized.

"Not worried... no. Perhaps better said, I am... slightly concerned," he amended.

"You expected him to return before now," she guessed.

"I did, yes," he agreed.

Talia frowned and glanced at the clear cold sky. Not even a cloud marred the pale blue expanse.

"When he left the tavern... he left alone," she remembered. "Because of that, I suppose I assumed he made an excuse to leave for a few days."

"No. He did indeed have business to finish in the north. He should have reached Napolvana two or three days behind us," Ilya said and frowned, "What caused you to think that he would abandon us and his men in the north? Did he say something to you--"

"I have difficulty remembering exactly what was said that night, but we had... a small disagreement. I suppose I thought he... preferred to... avoid traveling with us," she reluctantly admitted.

Ilya stared at her for another long moment, almost as if she had spoken words in a language he could barely comprehend, and then he chuckled.

"What?" she demanded, though she felt her cheeks starting to burn.

"You thought... that because of a lover's quarrel, the Prince of the Empire, the commander of the Unarian armies, the Emperor's bloodthirsty wolf of a brother... ran off... to pout?" Ilya tried to keep his face straight as he nodded, but failed. He broke into laughter.

"No! He... I... it isn't..." Talia stuttered. Her entire face was burning now. She scowled and shook her head, glaring at Ilya as he laughed even harder.

"Forgive me, Princess," Ilya said at last, clearing his throat, while still trying to suppress a grin. "You do, occasionally, have some very amusing notions."

"Yes, well, that wasn't at all what I meant, but nevermind. I came to tell you that I am ready to leave. Please have the carriage brought up," Talia said stiffly.

"Of course, Princess," Ilya agreed, but as he walked away, she heard him chuckle to himself again.

As the hours passed, Talia found that she often leaned forward to glance out the window at the sky. She had inherited Ilya's nervous habit of searching for messenger hawks, and whenever she caught herself at it, she scowled and quickly sat back against the cushions.

It was pointless to worry about Prince Mikhail, when her own future and that of her people hung so precariously by a thread. She would need all her wits about her before the Emperor, and above all, she should appear confident and unbothered. She would have to convince the Emperor that she was a ruler with the backing of powerful allies-- even though she had not yet determined who those allies were.

When the sun reached the highest point in the sky, the carriage stopped once again, and Talia stepped outside to find the soldiers starting fires to cook a midday meal. For the first time, she did not feel frustrated for the delay

They had stopped to wait for the wagon and servants approaching from Bludston, and Talia found herself looking forward to seeing Fioria once again.

She had thought the girl to be a poor actress when they first met-- with all her bowing and scraping and impassioned speeches concerning her loyalty to House Eosin. She understood a little better now. Vezdan slaves in Unaria felt a sort of reverence for Queen Ora and what she had sacrificed for her people in captivity. Deprived of all the comforts of home in their enslavement, they saw Queen Ora and perhaps now her as well, as a living embodiment of Vezda.

She hoped that she would not disappoint them.

Talia was sitting on a log eating a roasted potato when the Bludston servants arrived with the wagon. Fioria was the first to leap down, and she raced toward the fire, her face a mass of worry lines.

"My Princess!" she panted, kneeling down. "Are you well?"

"Yes, I am well. A little roadweary and worse for wear, but well," Talia's smile was genuine as she spoke.

Fioria reached out as if she would take Talia's hand, but paused, staring at the Princess's fingers with an undisguised expression of horror.

"Frostbite," Talia explained quickly, hiding her fingers by curling her hands into fists. "It looks worse than it is. There was blistering the first few days, but the healer told me that after the first few layers of skin peeled off, my fingers would look perfectly normal again. I was really quite fortunate."

"It has been rough for our Princess," Fioria said sadly, and though Talia wanted to deny it, she did not. "I have brought many things from home, medicines as well. Please allow me to run back to the wagon. We shall dress you in some warm, clean clothing better suited for traveling, and then I will dress your hair and see to your hands and feet."

"Please have something to eat first and rest yourself. You have also been traveling," Talia insisted.

"I am rested enough," Fioria argued. "And I certainly could not rest well at all while I see my princess so poorly tended to!"

Talia scoffed but gave permission with a quick nod of her head.

Talia watched as Fioria raced back to the wagon, but was distracted as she noticed Ilya walk into her line of sight. He was having what appeared to be a very serious discussion with both the carriage driver and one of the male servants who had newly arrived from Bludston. The three men stood apart from the others and glanced around nervously as they spoke, as though checking to make certain that there were no one close enough to eavesdrop. There was something very suspicious about the group, something in their lowered heads and quick, darting eyes which suggested that the men were conspiring.

When Ilya noticed her watching, he broke into a quick grin and raised a hand in greeting. The two other men glanced her way and looked quickly away.

Very suspicious indeed... or perhaps she was reading too much into it. Ilya was very concerned for Prince Mikhail after all, and they might have only been discussing how they might locate their master, or where he might be.

"My Princess!" Fioria called as she returned. There were several small bags slung from her shoulders, and her arms were full of a rough grey homespun material. "Let us return to your carriage. There is much to do!"

Talia tore her eyes away from the suspicious knot of men and smiled at her eager maid.

"Yes, very well," she agreed.