The road stretches endlessly before us, winding through rolling hills and soft peaks on the skirts of jagged mountains. The air here is different. It’s clearer, lighter. It's as if the lands we left behind had a curse placed upon them. Even the men feel it. Their shoulder’s are relaxed and the frequent wary glances have lessened, they know they’re home.

  Hours have passed on the road, the once low sun and cool morning, has turned into a near-eve light with lukewarm temperatures. Though the change is hard to tell with the cloak trapping mine and Caspian’s heat together.

  As the sun sinks deeper into its evening hues, the sight of a beautiful city comes into view. Riding closer I can see its beauty magnified. It has a magnificent blend of medieval buildings with slanted roofs of orange tiles, and nature surrounding each building.

  Built to incorporate the windy river next to it, moss covered bridges are abundant between dimly lit paths. There’s also towering trees that stand against buildings, with lanterns lining the paths shrouded by greenery, creating a romantic, mystical look to the city’s outer zone.

  This must be Arken.

  It's a far cry from Arrton, this place is alive. Unlike the people of Arrton, here, people live with nature rather than shrouding it.

  As we ride closer, people outside of their homes glace up, startled by the large parade of men. Whispers become murmurs, and murmurs become something louder. A cheer erupts.

  “Duke Astarteu!”

  Their voices rise, their excitement causing words to be overlapped.

  “He’s returned!”

  A wave of energy ripples through the streets. Men and women rush to the front of their homes to watch the men’s return. Children run out to sprint alongside the horses, their laughter echoing in the air as we ride forward.

  Caspian doesn’t react to the cheers. Instead he keeps his head up, accepting their loyalty with pride.

  As we move deeper into the city’s heart, the dirt paths become cobbled in tan stone, a flame design etched into the city’s centre. Caspian’s family line. The centre is filled with market stalls and business buildings surrounding it. Overhead, ribbons of red and purple sway between large wooden lantern posts. This place is beautiful..! I gawk at the sight of the charming city.

  The welcoming homecoming wasn’t what I expected. I shuffle in the saddle, a little shy about the amount of eyes on me, heaven knows what they’re thinking with me sharing a horse with Caspian, cloak secured.

  A castle lays not so far ahead, a vast flowering field with a few scattered trees separates it from the city. The cheers fade as we ride closer to the limestone castle, the roof tiles matching the orange ones from the city. We ride through the outer walls of the castle, and ride to the entrance of the castle.

  I should be glad the journey is over, but nerves set in. This is it. This is where I’ll be for…ever? Questions and ideas blitz through my brain. Why does Caspian keep me hostage? Why keep me here? And If Mandell was right. Will he let me go home soon?

  Caspian pulls his horse to a halt in front of the towering doors of the castle. The rest of the army follows suit.

  Inside the gap between the castle and the surrounding landscape, the grounds remind me of the palace in Arrton. Horsekeepers, blacksmiths and other professions are in plentiful supply, inside the inner walls of the castle, their duties primarily focused on the running of the castle, just like in Arrton. The grounds are quickly filled with the noises of shifting saddles and murmured orders being thrown about as the soldiers dismount.

  Caspian skillfully unknots his broken cloak from around us, and passes it off to one of the stewards of the castle. Before I can make a move, Caspian swings off his horse with practiced ease, his wound no longer giving him grief, and then turns to me.

  I scowl, knowing the unavoidable scene that's about to happen.

  Before I can even protest, Caspian puts his hands on my waist and lifts me off the horse, my hands instinctively latching onto his shoulders as he does so. The moment I touch the ground, I once again shove his hands off me, and take a step back.

  His expression doesn’t change. Uncaring of my actions, he moves back to his horse, he takes off his bag before handing the reins off to a soldier. Caspian then strides to the large wooden doors, pushing it open with one hand then faces me. Ushering with the tilt of his head to ‘come inside’. Reluctantly, I follow.

  Stepping into the castle, the air changes. Servants are rushing around to put up decorations, pausing to bow to Caspian as they walk past him. It is clear Caspian’s arrival wasn’t expected to be so early. I glance around the foyer of the castle, a large grand staircase is placed in the middle of the room with two large corridors connected to it on either side. Tapestries hang alongside the large corridors, the space is grand, but not excessive. It is humble in comparison to the palace, matching Caspian’s reserved nature.

  My thoughts are cut off by a veiled older woman in a strange mix of English and Grecian attire, walking towards us with her arms crossed.

  “Your raven said you’d be here after three moons pass.” Her voice is sharp and authoritative.

  “Something came up.” Caspian states, turning his head to look at me.

  “You brought home a woman?” She squints her eyes at me, assessing my character. “Well as long as she’s better than the last one, I’m not bothered.” She tuts, before moving closer to Caspian to inspect his attire. Last one? Does he frequently bring home women? Have I been kidnapped by a pervert?

  “You smell like blood.” Her lips purse. “Again.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Unimpressed by her words, Caspian flicks a brow towards her, before moving on.

  “This is Genevieve. She stays close.” Caspian turns back to me. “You’ll keep an eye on her, no exceptions.”

  The veiled woman tuts at my appearance, seemingly unhappy with the appearance. She waves her hand to a nearby servant, causing her to stop. “Prepare hot water for the duke.” The servant bows quickly before hurrying off.

  I remain still, my arms crossed as the veiled woman continues her assessment of me. She moves with authority, every step coordinated, her expression is sharp with criticism that it seems more professional than personal.

  She squints, her judgement sharp and honest.

  “She looks weary and difficult.”

  I blink at the absurd insult. Excuse me?

  The woman purses her lips together, her head turning back to Caspian to continue to talk about me, as if I wasn’t there.

  “Troublesome. Like she talks back, an arguer than a worker.”

  I scoff, an appalled expression resting on my face.

  “Excu-”

  “Oh, and an attitude.” The woman cuts me off with raised brows. She glares at Caspian. “And you expect me to manage this?” This bitch!

  “Just keep an eye on her, Nila.” Caspian reiterates the importance of keeping me under watch. “She’ll work under you while I figure out her place in all this.”

  I frown. I have to work under her?

  Nila lets out a slow breath, looking me up and down once more. “Well, a bath is in order then. Come along girl.” Nila turns to leave, glaring at me to follow before walking away.

  Caspian doesn’t stick around, he heads towards Sir Leiman and the other officers and the post war discussions begin. Before his presence could disappear from behind me I pick up parts of their conversation.

  Something about the king, something about the war and…

  Something I’m not meant to hear. A prophecy?

  Nila leads me away from the grand foyer, and heads towards a narrow passage tucked behind a wooden door nearby. It’s nothing as spectacular as the stairs before, it’s dimly lit and the ceilings aren’t as towering.

  The servant’s staircase.

  Before I close the door behind me, I glance back at Caspian and the others, but they’re already out of sight. They’ve probably gone to a war room to discuss.

  Nila doesn’t slow, her pace is brisk and I have to race up the stairs to keep up with her. At the top, we emerge into a corridor of wooden doors, each leads to another staircase, room or corridor. Nila keeps walking, a junction appears and we turn right and head into the nearest room. The room is very clearly a public bathroom for the servants to use. A few large wooden tubs are placed in the room and are monitored by the bathroom staff, who’s job is to keep the water clean and hot. Steam rolls off the top of the water with lavender floating on its surface. My body yearns to clean off the dirt, grime, blood and hell knows what else, on me.

  “Take your clothes off. You stink like horse shit and blood.” She waits for me to shed my clothes, but my cheeks flush with a tint of red.

  “Here?” The room has a few other female servants bathing, but my modern apprehension to be publicly indecent, makes me shy to remove my clothing in front of everyone.

  “Where else? You can’t bathe in clothes.” We have a brief war of stares, before the battle is over and I awkwardly strip my clothes down. Bare, I hand my clothes over to Nila who ogles them for a moment.

  “This is the attire of Arrton palace maids…You’re from Arrton?” Sympathy laces her voice, as if she’s trying to form a sympathetic relationship with me.

  I stare at her with a solemn face. Does my home even exist anymore? Even if it did, would she believe me that I’m not from this world?

  “I’m not even sure where I’m from.” I mumble out, sadness washing over me at the realisation I may never see my home again. Nila gives me a strange look, before moving on and ushering me into the bath, probably moving on knowing the topic seems sensitive to me.

  “You have 10 minutes, try and relax. You may not want to be here, but it’s where you are now. Accept it and move on, you won’t be maltreated here.” She tries to offer me some sympathy, but her tone comes off strong. Leaving me baffled if she’s trying to be nice, or commanding.

  Nila, hands my clothes away to one of the bathroom servants, and within a few minutes they return with clothing befitting the attire of the county.

  “There'll be a feast tonight for the blessed return of the duke. You’ll be serving him tonight.” She places the clothes down on a table nearby, taking a linen cloth from the cupboard she places it on top.

  “When you’re done, you’ll dress in the uniform of the castle maids in Arken.” She looks to the other women in the room, with a stare that reads ‘watch her, or else.’ The women nod as Nila turns to leave the room.

  Upon the shutting of the door, two young women in the tub next to me, shuffle to the edge and tap my shoulder.

  I turn to the women who are a few inches away from me, with a slightly startled look. Awkwardly I slowly cover my chest as they begin talking to me.

  “Hello.” One with brown curly hair, smiles. The other one, with a slightly lighter shade, waves at me.

  “I’m Leia, and this is Amaline.” Amaline smiles, giving me a curt hello before Leia continues to talk.

  “I heard you rode in on the duke’s horse.” Leia giggles, as if any mention of the duke’s name is worthy of fluster and tee-hee’s. “Why?” She leans over the bath edge, smiling, urging me to fulfil her wish of gossip.

  “Uh…I think it’s so he can keep an eye on me?” I’m pretty sure if I tell them, he may think i’m a spy, I’ll never be left alone in this place.

  “Oh my Gods! Why?” I let out a silent laugh at the tone of her question, her personality shining through her words.

  “Ehh…I’m not sure.” I awkwardly smile at the girls, but their faces don’t change, instead their grins grow wider.

  “Are you gonna be the new lady? The last one was awful.” They tease knowing I'm just a maid in a strange situation, but their hopeless romantic dreams lead them onto a delusional train of thought.

  “The last one?” I question, curious to know if Caspian really was married before.

  “She was a noble lady from Arrton, the king arranged the marriage so he could know what’s going on in his ‘cut off’ county.” Amaline nods to Leia’s words before cutting in with her own memories of the woman.

  “She was an awful mean woman, and when the duke would go out on his duties given by the king, she’d beat the staff members. This scar here, “ She points to a line on her shoulder. “Was when I accidentally tripped into her in the hallway. I’m so glad the duke let her divorce him, so she could marry the prince.”

  “So glad.” Leia chimes in to agree with Amaline.

  I can’t believe Caspian was once married. I think I’d rather run away than ever marrying that brute. A question suddenly pops in my head, a confirmation of something I assumed but wanted to know more on.

  “Cut off county?” The girls look taken aback at my question, as if my question was second hand knowledge.

  Amaline leans forward, her hand flicking gracefully in the air and speaks the truth of the county, and Caspian’s maltreatment.