And so, the ship indeed sailed away just a couple of hours after Elena made her decision. But not before the people and items meant for her were unloaded to stay with us in Candor.
Four servants, true to the "small entourage" Sir Lawrence had promised, were introduced to Elena. Two of them were women—maidens I had never seen before but who, apparently, had been on the ship since Castor. The old knight assured us they could handle chores and provide Elena with much-needed female company.
The other two were men, and their faces were familiar. First was Leofric, who had been invisible to me since Lacquer. He had apparently been gravely wounded in the battle against the orcs but recovered a few days later, just in time to learn his master had not. I saw him cry during the burial, and he nearly cried again when Elena accepted him into her service.
The second man was what the gods had sent—because they hate me. The very same sailor who had seen me carry Elena as I sprinted toward the water. He greeted me with a knowing grin that made me curl my fist. The old knight said he was handy with a lot of things, the same reason he’d been one of the camp followers in Lacquer.
All in all, though, I found myself comforted by their presence. Now, it wouldn’t just be four clueless nobles stranded in a foreign land. I knew well enough that without servants, there could be no such thing as a leisurely life for nobles.
Speaking of servants, you wouldn’t have them for long if you had no money to pay them. Along with the baron’s personal belongings—most of them of sentimental value—and a share of the provisions granted by the prince, Elena was also left with a small fortune of two hundred gold coins. Money which would have been in the creditors’ coffers had they not sailed away with the ship.
The additional company and the gifts, however, did little to comfort Elena. It was a meager inheritance for a baron’s daughter, and it came at the expense of her father’s life. She wiped her tears as we watched the ship cruise into the horizon.
"I hope we don’t regret this decision," Edmund muttered, oblivious to how insensitive it sounded.
"Now what do we do next?" Clifford asked, hands on his waist.
There were many things to address. Like the fact that we had no proper place to stay yet. We couldn’t possibly remain at the inn, especially now with the servants. Then, long-term, we’d need something to do in town. We were here primarily at Lady Elena’s behest, but her small fortune shouldn’t—and couldn’t—sustain us for long. Yet the place didn’t seem to have much to offer nobles seeking opportunities. There wasn’t even the usual task board at the town center.
"I want to see Papa," Elena sobbed. After holding back her tears for Sir Lawrence, she was back at it again.
"You should stop crying so much, Lady Elena. And you shouldn’t really go there too often," Edmund said, scratching his head. "It wouldn’t be what your father wanted. You should try to move on."
"That’s easier said than done, Master Edmund," I glared at him. This wasn’t some bruise that one shouldn’t fuss about. This was a deep wound, one that would take time to heal and should be gently, carefully nursed.
"Shall we, Lady Elena?"
---
She stifled her sobs, sniffed, and walked to me.
We were back at the parish, and I was back at my post at the window, watching Elena sit by her father’s grave. She was with Clifford now, who had thoughtfully conjured a small boulder to shield her from the wind. He needed to stay nearby to keep it from crumbling.
The place wasn’t as quiet as before. The servants had come with us and set up camp behind the chapel, where they were cooking lunch.
Inside the chapel, there was just the two of us.
"I wonder why you decided to leave the ship... given your mission, Lord Devon," Edmund said at last. I had felt his eyes on the back of my head for a while now.
I turned to him, initially confused, before remembering his assumption: I was supposed to be a high-ranking noble sent by the king to oversee the expedition.
"I told you, I’m not who you think I am. Have you even considered why a king would send a sixteen-year-old on such an important mission?" I replied, tilting my head just enough to see him at the corner of my eye.
"I’m still certain you’re high-born, but now I’m uncertain of your purpose," he said.
I fully turned to face him, unnerved by how strangely serious he was. He leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the chapel.
"Have you grown fond of her?" he asked.
I huffed at how out-of-the-blue that was. Fond? I pitied her, yes. And though she could be annoying, I didn’t truly hate her company. But fond would be too strong a word.
"No," I said simply, firmly. The source of this content ɪs novel✶fire.net
Edmund still looked perplexed. His apprehension was understandable, I suppose. He had seen me survive the greenskin army, then beat that one corpse into pulp out of anger. I must have looked like a madman. Not to mention, I’d behaved aloof on the ship, acting as though I were tired of them following me around—which, oftentimes, I truly was.
So for me to leave the expedition and stay with them in this quaint town must have been surprising.
The honest answer was simple: I didn’t want to suffer another day on the ship.
I thought I’d have to come up with a more convincing explanation, but I was saved in time.
The wind carried the sound of hoofbeats and the flutter of banners.
We looked outside the windows to see a group of horsemen riding up the hill. They wore livery and plate—either knights or men-at-arms.
We hesitantly went out to greet them and soon counted fifteen riders. If they’d come to cause us trouble, then our adventure was off to a very rough start.
"How can we help you?" As always, Clifford stood at the vanguard, being the oldest and the most able to fight if things turned ugly.
"I was told you came off the ship that recently left the coast," the lead rider said.
"That we did... and we come in peace," Clifford replied.
"Likewise, sir," the rider said. "The marquis would like to know more about you."