Even as dusk fell and a curtain of scarlet blanketed the royal capital's market district, we were welcomed with a fanfare of excitement and noise. The colours of my kingdom were draped from window to window as the people celebrated the return of their most most beloved princess.
Naturally, this wasn't anything new to me.
True, I hadn't visited Reitzlake for some time. But the kingdom was vast and my time was short. It only made sense that when I did visit the royal capital again, I would be greeted with an abundance of cheers, waves and smiles, as befitted my high status.
“Young lady, may I interest you in a pair of Granholtz boots?”
“Miss, oh, you look so beautiful! Come, come! Look at these skin tonics! The only guarantee that you'll maintain your youth!”
“Lee & Tiller's Bakery! We have a 50% off promotion on all fresh loaves and baguettes!”
“Would you like a coupon? Here, take it. I mean it, no please, please don't walk away from me. I have to get rid of these coupons.”
“HATS. I'M SELLING HATS.”
Apple neighed as a man pushed a feathered beret in front of us. I waved him off with a flick of my wrist, even more so since Coppelia was dangerously close to showing interest.
Indeed, the people were clamouring for my adoration!
Why, if it wasn't for the fact that Apple simply trotted through the crowds as though he were ploughing through a field of wheat, I had no doubt I'd be swamped with even more loving citizens.
Now I understood why I'd only ridden into Reitzlake in a royal carriage. Had my knights accompanied me, they'd be at their wit's end trying to beat back the hollering crowd.
Fortunately, I had Coppelia with me.
And while she didn't shout warnings, spread her arms or really do much to defend me at all, she had that very large key on her back.
That key was very effective at keeping people at arm's length away.
“Hey, hey, what's this?” said a jovial man carrying two steins. “A new way to stand out? Fashion's gone too far, don't you think?”
“No, you got it wrong,” replied his friend, wearing a moustache of ale. “You imbecile. That's a clockwork doll. They're famous up north.”
“Who cares about up north. I've never seen one. Hey, is this real or—aaaarrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”
Coppelia's hand shot up just as the drunken man made to touch her key. She grabbed, no, crushed the arm of the would-be offender. Two steins of ale went rolling on the ground, its contents being immediately lapped up by a squirrel darting from a tree.
She smiled.
“Disperse or be destroyed.”
The man stumbled away, clutching his bruised arm, then tripped over his fallen steins during his bid to escape. He crashed through the crowd, his friend behind him after picking up and downing what remained of the ales.
The crowd kept a more respectable distance after that.
I nodded in satisfaction. A firm hand was needed to keep the peasantry at bay. And if it was firm enough to crush bones, then all the merrier. I was a princess, not a museum curiosity. And as a princess, I had places to be.
“Coppelia, we've arrived in Reitzlake.”
“So we have.”
“A beautiful city, isn't it?”
“It's certainly a city, yes. Where do we go now? You didn't share much of your plan before we got here. At all. In any capacity.”
I placed my hand to my chest and smiled proudly.
“Ohohoho, of course not. I have a thousand plans for a thousand moments. How was I to know which one to enact until I knew the way of the wind? Reitzlake is a maze as much as it is a city, with twists and turns upon each corner. Our enemies are many, and the shadows they reside in are infinite. Against such an entrenched foe, flexibility is our greatest advantage.”
“Ooh ...” Coppelia nodded with zealous enthusiasm. “And here I thought you had zero flexibility whatsoever. The number of perfectly good trees you ignored just so that you could pay off villagers for a spare bed was ... something.”
My smile twitched. I forced it in place.
“Something mutually beneficial, yes. I receive the joy of a threadbare bed while some villager receives the joy of my economic stimulus. A victory for all.”
“Sleeping under the trees isn't that bad. There's the moon, the stars, and the fruit slimes.”
“I fail to see how fruit slimes count as a positive.”
“If you get a small one attacking you, it'll feel like a gentle massage. You'll have the best sleep of your life.”
As ever, I could never quite tell whether or not this girl was being serious or not. And that meant at least one thing I'd taken in jest so far had actually been spoken with genuine sincerity.
That I didn't know which thing it was filled me with no small amounts of horror.
“As lovely as that sounds, it's not fruit slimes that concern me. It's the quillbeasts, wargs and other litany of nocturnal monsters which roam our woodlands at night.”
“Nothing to do with the mud?”
“Everything to do with the mud. I'm not a vagrant. I have standards. As does my attire. And that means we'll be finding suitable accommodation after we've cleansed the plague of crime which besieges this fair city and cowers its people behind locked doors and shuttered windows.”
Coppelia circled like a penguin on the spot, her eyes blinking at the masses of commoners laughing, bartering, smiling and otherwise being a nuisance.
“It's too late. They're already doomed.”
“Not while I still stand.”
“You're currently sitting.”
“As I said, flexibility.”
I tugged on Apple's reins, then pointed at the man with the most dubious profession here.
“HATS. I'M SELLING … excuse me, but could your horse not nibble on my wares, please?”
I frowned as Apple began to chew on a straw hat. It reflected poorly on me. The hat was clearly of insufficient quality. If he wanted to eat somebody's wares, then there were bountiful choices in this street alone.
“My apologies,” I said, tugging Apple slightly away so that he could graze on a much more fashionable pot of roses resting on a windowsill. “Apple is peckish. Now that I've saved your business, I have questions that require answering.”
“If they're not about what sizes of sun hats I have available, then I can't help.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“My, is that the tone to take with a prospective customer? I notice you have none. My presence may mistake people into thinking I consider your unseasonal wares worthy of my curiosity. I suggest you make use of my attention.”
The hat merchant gave an outraged expression, before opening his mouth in preparation to deliver a stuttering response. Then he looked around, confirmed he really did have no customers and sighed.
“... What is it?” he grunted, offering out a pink cloche hat. I gave it a single glance. My day's quota of charity completed. “If you need directions, ask a guard.”
“I would if that were possible. Where are they? Should the market district not be greater patrolled?”
I wasn't heartened by the absence of patrols. There were guards manning the battlements, but few in the streets. Whatever answer I received would bode poorly for my happiness.
“Oh, right. I saw them run off a few moments ago. Happens whenever there's trouble now. Practically every guard in capital has to band together.”
“What manner of trouble?”
“Fighting in the city,” said the hat merchant as he idly rummaged through a box of wares. “More fighting than usual, that is. Criminals versus criminals, mostly. It's been bad. Innocent people are getting caught up. The orphanage on Kettleheart Lane got burned down.”
I looked at the hat merchant in horror.
He'd just produced a fur hat. In spring? I couldn't even pretend to be interested in that!
Then, I considered his words.
So the trolls were correct. Even civilians were being swept up in the struggle between the criminal elements. This was a state of disarray which could not go on uninterrupted. Was the garrison outmatched against such callous and unrelenting violence? And still, where were the knights? Where was Roland?
This could not continue!
“Then the situation is worse than I feared,” I said, furrowing my brows. “But fear not, man of the peasantry. I'm here now. And I've come to undeservingly solve all your ills.”
The man shuffled slightly away, too stunned at my radiant aura to withstand the glow.
“Uh, right.”
“Now, point me towards the villains responsible. In lieu of the proper rendering of law and order, I will deal with the riff-raff myself. Mark my words, the reign of terror which keeps the poor fretting in their duvets at night will come to an end.”
“Well, um, I can't really point you towards any villains … I just sell hats, ma'am.”
“Oh.” I paused. “Then, do you know of any more burning orphanages?”
The man unhelpfully shook his head.
“Not at the moment … no. And we're all hoping that's the last. It's been two nights without any bloodshed on the streets. That's a record. The guards are still on edge, but for the rest of us, life's more or less back to normal already.”
Beside me, Coppelia gave a lazy smile as she eyed the roses that Apple was chewing on.
“Well done, Juliette. The mere news of your coming has caused the riff-raff to reprioritise their life goals.”
“Nonsense. Look at these people. They can barely string together coherant sentences without me constantly reminding them how to use words. How could they magically be rid of their net of lawlessness? No, this is clearly a ruse. Crime does not evaporate overnight. There are greater machinations at play here.”
I swept back towards the hat merchant, who'd been trying to slowly shuffle away.
As I did so, I noticed a small noticeboard pinned to the wall. On it were faded flyers and parchment so bleached from age that none of the words were visible. But one notice was fresh, the ink barely set.
My horror rose as I read it. I turned once more to the hat man.
“... What's this about a murderous dryad on the loose?!”
Even as dusk fell and a curtain of scarlet blanketed the royal capital's market district, we were welcomed with a fanfare of excitement and noise. The colours of my kingdom were draped from window to window as the people celebrated the return of their most most beloved princess.
Naturally, this wasn't anything new to me.
True, I hadn't visited Reitzlake for some time. But the kingdom was vast and my time was short. It only made sense that when I did visit the royal capital again, I would be greeted with an abundance of cheers, waves and smiles, as befitted my high status.
“Young lady, may I interest you in a pair of Granholtz boots?”
“Miss, oh, you look so beautiful! Come, come! Look at these skin tonics! The only guarantee that you'll maintain your youth!”
“Lee & Tiller's Bakery! We have a 50% off promotion on all fresh loaves and baguettes!”
“Would you like a coupon? Here, take it. I mean it, no please, please don't walk away from me. I have to get rid of these coupons.”
“HATS. I'M SELLING HATS.”
Apple neighed as a man pushed a feathered beret in front of us. I waved him off with a flick of my wrist, even more so since Coppelia was dangerously close to showing interest.
Indeed, the people were clamouring for my adoration!
Why, if it wasn't for the fact that Apple simply trotted through the crowds as though he were ploughing through a field of wheat, I had no doubt I'd be swamped with even more loving citizens.
Now I understood why I'd only ridden into Reitzlake in a royal carriage. Had my knights accompanied me, they'd be at their wit's end trying to beat back the hollering crowd.
Fortunately, I had Coppelia with me.
And while she didn't shout warnings, spread her arms or really do much to defend me at all, she had that very large key on her back.
That key was very effective at keeping people at arm's length away.
“Hey, hey, what's this?” said a jovial man carrying two steins. “A new way to stand out? Fashion's gone too far, don't you think?”
“No, you got it wrong,” replied his friend, wearing a moustache of ale. “You imbecile. That's a clockwork doll. They're famous up north.”
“Who cares about up north. I've never seen one. Hey, is this real or—aaaarrrghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”
Coppelia's hand shot up just as the drunken man made to touch her key. She grabbed, no, crushed the arm of the would-be offender. Two steins of ale went rolling on the ground, its contents being immediately lapped up by a squirrel darting from a tree.
She smiled.
“Disperse or be destroyed.”
The man stumbled away, clutching his bruised arm, then tripped over his fallen steins during his bid to escape. He crashed through the crowd, his friend behind him after picking up and downing what remained of the ales.
The crowd kept a more respectable distance after that.
I nodded in satisfaction. A firm hand was needed to keep the peasantry at bay. And if it was firm enough to crush bones, then all the merrier. I was a princess, not a museum curiosity. And as a princess, I had places to be.
“Coppelia, we've arrived in Reitzlake.”
“So we have.”
“A beautiful city, isn't it?”
“It's certainly a city, yes. Where do we go now? You didn't share much of your plan before we got here. At all. In any capacity.”
I placed my hand to my chest and smiled proudly.
“Ohohoho, of course not. I have a thousand plans for a thousand moments. How was I to know which one to enact until I knew the way of the wind? Reitzlake is a maze as much as it is a city, with twists and turns upon each corner. Our enemies are many, and the shadows they reside in are infinite. Against such an entrenched foe, flexibility is our greatest advantage.”
“Ooh ...” Coppelia nodded with zealous enthusiasm. “And here I thought you had zero flexibility whatsoever. The number of perfectly good trees you ignored just so that you could pay off villagers for a spare bed was ... something.”
My smile twitched. I forced it in place.
“Something mutually beneficial, yes. I receive the joy of a threadbare bed while some villager receives the joy of my economic stimulus. A victory for all.”
“Sleeping under the trees isn't that bad. There's the moon, the stars, and the fruit slimes.”
“I fail to see how fruit slimes count as a positive.”
“If you get a small one attacking you, it'll feel like a gentle massage. You'll have the best sleep of your life.”
As ever, I could never quite tell whether or not this girl was being serious or not. And that meant at least one thing I'd taken in jest so far had actually been spoken with genuine sincerity.
That I didn't know which thing it was filled me with no small amounts of horror.
“As lovely as that sounds, it's not fruit slimes that concern me. It's the quillbeasts, wargs and other litany of nocturnal monsters which roam our woodlands at night.”
“Nothing to do with the mud?”
“Everything to do with the mud. I'm not a vagrant. I have standards. As does my attire. And that means we'll be finding suitable accommodation after we've cleansed the plague of crime which besieges this fair city and cowers its people behind locked doors and shuttered windows.”
Coppelia circled like a penguin on the spot, her eyes blinking at the masses of commoners laughing, bartering, smiling and otherwise being a nuisance.
“It's too late. They're already doomed.”
“Not while I still stand.”
“You're currently sitting.”
“As I said, flexibility.”
I tugged on Apple's reins, then pointed at the man with the most dubious profession here.
“HATS. I'M SELLING … excuse me, but could your horse not nibble on my wares, please?”
I frowned as Apple began to chew on a straw hat. It reflected poorly on me. The hat was clearly of insufficient quality. If he wanted to eat somebody's wares, then there were bountiful choices in this street alone.
“My apologies,” I said, tugging Apple slightly away so that he could graze on a much more fashionable pot of roses resting on a windowsill. “Apple is peckish. Now that I've saved your business, I have questions that require answering.”
“If they're not about what sizes of sun hats I have available, then I can't help.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“My, is that the tone to take with a prospective customer? I notice you have none. My presence may mistake people into thinking I consider your unseasonal wares worthy of my curiosity. I suggest you make use of my attention.”
The hat merchant gave an outraged expression, before opening his mouth in preparation to deliver a stuttering response. Then he looked around, confirmed he really did have no customers and sighed.
“... What is it?” he grunted, offering out a pink cloche hat. I gave it a single glance. My day's quota of charity completed. “If you need directions, ask a guard.”
“I would if that were possible. Where are they? Should the market district not be greater patrolled?”
I wasn't heartened by the absence of patrols. There were guards manning the battlements, but few in the streets. Whatever answer I received would bode poorly for my happiness.
“Oh, right. I saw them run off a few moments ago. Happens whenever there's trouble now. Practically every guard in capital has to band together.”
“What manner of trouble?”
“Fighting in the city,” said the hat merchant as he idly rummaged through a box of wares. “More fighting than usual, that is. Criminals versus criminals, mostly. It's been bad. Innocent people are getting caught up. The orphanage on Kettleheart Lane got burned down.”
I looked at the hat merchant in horror.
He'd just produced a fur hat. In spring? I couldn't even pretend to be interested in that!
Then, I considered his words.
So the trolls were correct. Even civilians were being swept up in the struggle between the criminal elements. This was a state of disarray which could not go on uninterrupted. Was the garrison outmatched against such callous and unrelenting violence? And still, where were the knights? Where was Roland?
This could not continue!
“Then the situation is worse than I feared,” I said, furrowing my brows. “But fear not, man of the peasantry. I'm here now. And I've come to undeservingly solve all your ills.”
The man shuffled slightly away, too stunned at my radiant aura to withstand the glow.
“Uh, right.”
“Now, point me towards the villains responsible. In lieu of the proper rendering of law and order, I will deal with the riff-raff myself. Mark my words, the reign of terror which keeps the poor fretting in their duvets at night will come to an end.”
“Well, um, I can't really point you towards any villains … I just sell hats, ma'am.”
“Oh.” I paused. “Then, do you know of any more burning orphanages?”
The man unhelpfully shook his head.
“Not at the moment … no. And we're all hoping that's the last. It's been two nights without any bloodshed on the streets. That's a record. The guards are still on edge, but for the rest of us, life's more or less back to normal already.”
Beside me, Coppelia gave a lazy smile as she eyed the roses that Apple was chewing on.
“Well done, Juliette. The mere news of your coming has caused the riff-raff to reprioritise their life goals.”
“Nonsense. Look at these people. They can barely string together coherant sentences without me constantly reminding them how to use words. How could they magically be rid of their net of lawlessness? No, this is clearly a ruse. Crime does not evaporate overnight. There are greater machinations at play here.”
I swept back towards the hat merchant, who'd been trying to slowly shuffle away.
As I did so, I noticed a small noticeboard pinned to the wall. On it were faded flyers and parchment so bleached from age that none of the words were visible. But one notice was fresh, the ink barely set.
My horror rose as I read it. I turned once more to the hat man.
“... What's this about a murderous dryad on the loose?!”
