Treasured by the Dragon

Ch 31: Hiding

Walking through the village feels like stepping through a dream. It's familiar, but also intangible.

I see the bakers at their ovens, fishers handing out their morning catch, and a seamstress hemming a skirt. Children follow their teacher down the road toward some unknown destination. Sheep baa as a shepherd shears their wool before handing it off to the local textile artist to spin and weave.

It reminds me of my excursions through Akarna's capital. The bustle and breath of society. So intricately woven and self-sufficient, to a point where I wondered what value I had to add as a leader.

Of course, my value was to host a future heir in my womb, but how would I instruct that child to reign with integrity? For me, the inner workings of a kingdom look like a highly choreographed dance where I am but a smiling observer clapping in the audience.

It feels especially strange now that I don't have the gold trimmed velvet and diamond tiara to separate myself from the masses. How much distance have I kept between myself and the common folk simply with the clothes I wear? Now in a plain white frock, I feel vulnerable, despite the physical distance separating us being the same as I'm used to.

Then someone grabs my shoulder, and the distance is gone.

"Is that you, little wild miss? Ya look like a proper citizen now in a dress, though I bet you're still jus' as fierce."

It's Tomas, or the "old coot" as Dr. Lara called him. He flashes a smile made ragged by his scraggly beard and a couple of missing teeth. Yet it feels warm and genuine, as if me trying to bludgeon him with a rock was all a fun game.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Tomas."

He cringes, withdrawing his hand from my plainly dressed shoulder.

"Ya really are proper, ain't ya? It jus' Tomas."

"As you wish," I say with a bow of my head.

His bushy brow raises, and his smile turns into an uncertain grimace. It now occurs to me I may need to tone down my royal behavior. My backstory, as far as anyone in town knows, includes me being of noble birth. But there's still a difference between the daughter of a wealthy merchant and a princess.

"Well, I'm glad you're alright, miss. How is your fella?"

"Recovering."

I know how to make a conversation out of anything. It's a necessary skill when building alliances at balls. However, it's like my tongue has forgotten how to work. With my hair long and loose, my face smudged with dust, and my clothes, a simple frock and brown jacket, it's hard to remember what words to say.

Or maybe it's really that I don't feel as secure in my superiority. Being on the same level with a stranger is far more frightening than I could've imagined.

I blush and turn, feeling out of place and uncertain. Something I never want to feel like when surrounded by people.

"Ya hungry?"

"Yes," I admit with a small smile, grateful to touch on a subject that all of humanity can empathize with.

"Let me take ya to the tavern. Only place roun' 'ere to get a hot meal."

"Thank you, Tomas," I say with a slight bow before I can stop myself from such etiquette.

Yet his smile is wide, and his eyes glittering. Perhaps his name is enough to hide the rough edges of my apprehension.

He takes me toward the front of town, where the tavern serves as a beacon to travelers—if they had them anyway.

Inside is dark, sticky, and loud, though the noise settles once the rabble realizes who Tomas dragged in. Part of me preferred the din of anonymity.