Chapter 86: Aella’s Journey
She remembered falling asleep on the deck, and so waking in her bed, dressed in night clothing, with her arms around her wife was strangely disorienting. Nothing seemed amiss, and it was only just passed first light. The boys were sleeping in Alejo’s bed, the older boy holding his brother protectively.
“Nereida,” she whispered. Her wife stirred. Nereida’s hair was unbound, but her own remained in its tight braid. “When did we come to bed?” Nereida moaned as if she had not had a lick of sleep, and the princess stubbornly pulled one of their pillows over her head.
“It’s too early,” she moaned. “The boys are still sleeping. I don’t want to have hard conversations before dawn.”
“Hard?” Aella echoed, worry settling in her chest. She slowly lifted the pillow off her wife’s head. “We were possessed last night,” Nereida muttered. “Ocean and Moon.”
“But we didn’t call for them, didn’t say any weird or wiggly words, we just… went to sleep!” Aella heaved a sigh and sank down beside her wife. “Any new eggs?” Her tone was only half teasing, the worry of it washing over her. She remembered nothing! She also didn’t feel any familiar aches to indicate that they had been together without her permission. At least there was that.
“None.” Nereida smiled at her sadly. “I’m sorry, love.”
“Don’t be,” she grumbled. “I just didn’t know that was a thing. Are we going to have to sleep indoors for the rest of our lives?”
“I… I’m not sure.” Nereida leaned in to kiss her nose. “They were so sad. Couldn’t you feel it?” Aella shook her head. All she felt was slight confusion. She kissed Nereida’s forehead, and settled in. She wasn’t needed on deck yet, so why not have a lie-in and hold her wife?
They lazed about for an hour, simply holding each other in content silence, listening to the ocean’s gentle roar, the children’s snores and the birds outside. It was perfection, this moment of serenity. Aella matched her wife’s breaths with her own, feeling complete, safe and happy. It wasn’t wild bliss, just a perfect contentment. She had not even known moments like these could exist before she had met Nereida.
Her quiet contentment was soon broken, when the boys got up. They saw the curtains were open and bounded into bed, demanding cuddles, food and attention. Nereida laughed, a beautiful, happy sound. Alejo snagged Aella’s hat from the end of the bed where it had been left. He put it on.
“I’m Admiral now!” he declared, standing on the bed and puffing out his chest. He pumped his hand up into the air. “And I say, breakfast for me first!”
The laughing and teasing continued until it was time to get dressed. The boys’ emotions changed on a dime when they were told it was time to get gussied up. Both complained about having their hair done, about the feel of the fabric of their fancier clothing, about the fact they couldn’t rightly play in such clothing. But Nereida was having none of their complaints, and soon had them in their matching tunics and tabards, their hair parted smartly. They were sent to sit on the bed with the curtains drawn while Nereida and Aella dressed. She wore her finest dress, donning her silver circlet that they received from the sirens, her white knighthood belt that had been gathering dust in a chest next to their bed, and her wedding bracelet. Around her neck, on a simple chain of steel, she wore her brother’s signet ring. He had begged off doing any kind of politics, as he was exhausted. Given that the prince always had dark circles under his eyes now, the chances of him misspeaking were high. Aella was certain her wife could dance circles around whatever governor was in the port.
“When we get home tonight,” Aella whispered softly, keeping her voice too low for the rambunctious boys to hear, “I’m going to delight in taking off this dress ribbon by ribbon.” Nereida grinned at her, her eyes shining. Aella pulled her voluptuous wife in for a quick kiss and embrace, knowing that they had no time for more, knowing that the boys would grow impatient soon.
They headed on to the deck together, a family of nobles. Epelda joined them, dressed to match her mothers, her hair done up well. She wore a billowing cloak, her hair done in tiny, intricate braids that would be seen in the royal halls.
“Is this okay?” the girl signed, looking a little shyly at her mothers. Aella smiled at her, pride filling her chest.
“It’s perfect, though it shows you to be more Countess than crew. Not a bad thing, my daughter, given the dance we are about to do.” Aella touched her daughter’s shoulder gently. “Will your passenger behave?” Epelda nodded once, then turned toward the boys. Alejo shrunk away from her attention and the young woman’s face crumpled with heartbreak.
“I’m still me,” she signed, turning her eyes to Aella. “Mom…”
“They are just scared. Probably the boys have more sense than either of their mothers.” She gave her daughter a sideways grin and the girl laughed a little, but it was a hollow, broken laugh. “Chin up, daughter. It is not forever.”
They headed down the gangplank to the market. The rest of the crew, those scheduled for the first round of shore leave, watched from the deck. She could feel their worry, that she and her family were headed to a trap. If it was, they would endure. There were armed guards waiting for them at the end of the dock, dressed in white tabards trimmed in deep blue. She counted seven of them. There were other sylphs milling about, some shopping at stalls, others stopping to gawk at her and the nobles. Nereida’s gait changed, from her usual playful movements to stiff, formal motions. Her head was held high, and she wore a bored expression, as if everything around her was beneath her. Epelda, who had studied with Nereida, walked with a similar gait, her head held high and feigned indifference on her face. But Aella knew her daughter too well. She could see the pain in her daughter’s eyes. A city like this had been home once. But she came to the port as a stranger, not as a child being welcomed in from the cold. Aella wished she could comfort her daughter, but with so many eyes on them, neither of them could afford the weakness.
The market was the same as any other; it was loud, full of people hawking wares, unwatched children shrieking, and the low din of conversation. The scent of freshly baked bread from a nearby bakery was something she had missed. Merchants tried to peddle their wares to the group of them, but the guards kept them back. Aella kept her face hard, a mask of indifference, but she was hoping this was a temporary situation. Her wife needed proper boots again. Her sons too, as both were growing despite the limited food options aboard the boat. A child slipped past the guards, dirty and underfed. His eyes were large in his head, giving him an owlish look. A pickpocket sent to rob the nobles, too young and foolish to know he’d be caught. Aella slowed her pace to catch the boy in the act, when Egaz passed the urchin something. An apple, from their stores. The urchin blinked stupidly, confused that he had received charity and not condemnation. The procession moved on, leaving the poor boy to blink at his apple.
They left the market, and headed up the road to a manor house. It was built higher than the other homes, atop a slight hill so that it gave the impression that the house itself was looking down on the people. The walls were whitewashed, the roof tiled and the windows sealed with glass, not shutters. This governor was well off, likely from a mercantile family. Old money. The garden was full of hundreds of flowers and vegetables. Dymion would have given his left ear for a garden this extraordinary, she was quite sure. The scent of late spring flowers was strong. The boys grinned, each staring at the flowers with true joy. Nereida had to quietly urge them forward, her tone soft but firm.
They were led to a foyer of the main house. The tiled floor clacked beneath her boots. The guards bowed, and retreated out the door.
“Greetings, Princess, Consort and family,” said a voice that echoed on the stone oddly. Aella felt the buzz of Sylph magic beneath her skin. She controlled her shiver. The gentleman who stepped into the room was older, perhaps in his sixties, with thin, wild hair and a bespectacled face. He had beautiful gossamer wings, but one was injured, broken off halfway down its length, and so it hung lifelessly like a ghoulish cloak. Epelda stiffened, pity in her expression. “Welcome to my home.” The man smiled at them, his face wrinkling. His weathered face looked older than the rest of him, somehow.
They were ushered into a banquet hall. The massive oak table was filled with dishes; sausages, eggs, fruit, bread and cheeses. The boys looked up at their mother with pleading eyes. She smiled indulgently, muttering a quiet “soon”. They shifted, unable to maintain good manners in the face of a feast of this nature.
“You must forgive my sons. We have long been traveling and such meals have been in short supply,” Nereida said.
“Oh, I insist, let them eat to their little hearts’ content! I did not order this spread just for myself.” He lowered himself into a chair at the head of the table. Nereida, the highest ranked of them, sat at his right hand, across from an older woman who was likely his wife. Despite protocol’s suggestion, Aella sat on the other side of her wife, and placed the boys in between them, with Epelda on her other side. Their host watched them shuffle about but he made no comment about their lack of decorum. He seemed almost amused.
“Princess, would you be offended if I invited my son and his children to join us?”
“That would be lovely,” she replied, smiling at him.
The others arrived shortly, a young man in his late twenties, and two young girls around the same age as the boys. One had fluttering little wings, the other did not. They smiled and waved shyly at the boys, but Alejo and Egaz were too taken with the food to do more than wave back politely.
The governor asked them about their travels, how they found themselves at his humble port so far from any Seliniak vessel. Nereida told the story, leaving out any mention of dragons. The little girls gaped at her when she described singing to the sirens, to her people by birth but not in her heart. Their father spoke their names in warning, but Nereida smiled indulgently.
“It is a fantastical tale,” she admitted with a charming smile and a practiced shrug. “A siren-born princess is almost too much to be believed, yes?”
“Almost,” the governor replied, lifting his cup in a silent toast. “However, Princess, I was able to learn that you spoke the truth. I have record of your knighthood in my library. One of my aides found it last night. Perhaps, later, you could tell us that tale.”
“I’d be delighted.”
“In the meantime, perhaps you could tell us what you need, what you seek, so that we may come to an understanding of each other.”
Nereida smiled at him again, a sweet, almost harmless smile.
“There are things Aella’s crew needs,” she said sweetly. “Boots, replacement clothing, a chance to have shore leave that isn’t on a nearly empty island. We’d like a week here, and would leave the morning after the full moon, so long as the winds are favourable.”
“Have you the gold for such things?” His eyebrow rose. “A ship without backing is in danger of running low on such things. Or do you intend to pay in promissory notes?”
“We have gold enough for our needs,” Nereida’s reply was almost cold, a sudden change from her overly familiar sweetness just moments ago. The old man blinked as if truly seeing her for the first time, glimpsing the sword among the ruffles. He had no idea. Poor fool. Aella leaned back in her chair, enjoying herself very much. “And we have backing. We fly the flag not just by my birthright, but because my wife is the Emissary of my people. Her words are their commands, should you wish any trade agreements with the sirens, it is HER you must impress.”
There was a tense moment, but then the old man laughed.
“Well done, your Grace. You have fire. I am amenable to your terms.” He bowed his head slightly, before continuing on. “We can hammer out details perhaps over supper, just us adults. Such things are not for young ears.”
“I insist my eldest join me. She is a Countess and is of age, but has had few chances to observe such things.” Nereida’s tone left no room for argument. The older man’s eyes drifted to Epelda, and something flickered in his expression, but it was gone too quickly for Aella to parse out what it was. He nodded.
“A wise idea. Perhaps you would then allow my son Marcus to sit in as well? He is newly twenty, but has been a bit of a lay-about. Perhaps this will inspire him.”
Aella heard the offer between the lines, and she closed her hands into tight fists where neither chattering noble could see her. She controlled her breathing, kept her face set to its usual grumpy expression. He was offering a betrothal, should the youth get along, should the princess allow it. Aella felt a surge of anger on behalf of her daughter. She risked glancing at Epelda, but saw that the girl was ignoring her elders to sign with the younger lord and his daughters. She had no idea the trap that could be sprung for her. She would have to be warned!