Haven, with its wide streets, countless people, smells, noise, sights and animals, was quite a change from the sort of city Kate was used to seeing.
"Back home, the streets were never this crowded. My father had an affinity for order. . . he considered chaos like this unsightly. Too many people on the streets, he'd send out the Guard to beat them back into their homes."
"Nobody likes a mob, I suppose. Ah -- here we are!" Dante tugged Kate through a particularly tight-knit group of children clustered just before a little shop, taking advatage of the shade provided by the awning that hung into the street. "Shopkeeper!" the Herald called into the store, looking around at bolts of fabric, sacks of feather, shelves of shoes, "Service, please?"
" 'Old your 'orses, I'm comin'!" came the gruff reply of the man behind the counter, and Kate eyed him warily. "Ye don't got ta gitcher pants in a twist, I'm walkin' fast as m-- 'Erald!" He looked shocked to see a man in full whites standing within his humble shop. "Terr'bly sorry ta make ye wait, 'Erald! What kin I do for ye this fine mornin'?"
Dante winked at Kate.
"We'd like a dress tailored up for this *lovely* young woman at my left. She's to attend tonight's banquet with the Queen."
The peddler's eyebrows lifted, and a greedy little grin spread its way across a wrinkled face. "Is that so? Methinks I've got just the gown, 'Erald! Wait 'ntil you see it!" He shuffled off into the recesses of his store and the faint sounds of rummaging whispered at them.
"He's odd," Kate remarked, not bothering to lower her voice, "Makes me wonder why such a crack-pot is allowed to work for the general public."
"Shh. . . ."
" 'Ere we 'ave somethin' right purdy for a Lady like yerself!" The man came from his little storeroom and held out a lovely dress that was both blue and gold, a sweeping silken thing that would trail the floor behind the wearer. He held it up proudly and said, "Whatcha think, then?"
"Err," said Kate, eyeing the gown dubiously, "It's okay. . . but do you have anything. . . darker?"
"Darker, milord?" he asked Dante, who only smirked and nodded. "A'right. Gi' me a moment." He hurried back into his store and was gone for some time.
"You've a thing for the sinister, Kate?" Dante had his arms folded and was leaning against the counter with a bemused expression upon his angellic face.
"So? Can you *blame* me, after spending an eternity with that Healer?"
"Annali isn't THAT bad, Kate."
"Have you ever spent more than a few hours around her?"
"No."
"I rest my case."
Just then, a dress walked out of the store-room and paused before them. "What 'bout this?" asked a muffled voice, and Dante laughed. "You make it look like a flock of boggles have inhabited that dress, Alastor." He chuckled and was about to say more when, from his left, came the exclaimation, "Marvelous!" He turned and looked at Kate, who was reaching across the counter to feel the velvet-like fabric on the bust of the dress. Mostly black, this dress was also long and sweeping, and each sleeve was knee-length. The neck was low and wide, and the waist was encompassed with silver embroidery. "Too many skirts, though," Kate said, looking at the large expanse of skirts that seemed to be a grand total of four feet across, "But -- you could fix that, couldn't you, Alastor?"
The shopkeep looked slightly annoyed that Kate had used his first name, but nodded anyway. "Aye, we could fix it right up if ye wanted me to, Lady."
"Good. . . we could remove some of the skirts, leave this one right here."
Alastor nodded.
"And can you make the neck more angled, instead of rounded?"
"Aye, but it might take a while, Lady. I got meself a right lot of orders ta fill t'night."
"I think you can set them aside on the Queen's orders, Alastor." Dante rattled a little pouch of change he'd been keeping in his pocket. "We'd be more than happy to pay you, for your troubles."
Alastor's eyes seemed to sparkle at the prospect of the amount of money he'd get from the Herald if he did a good job, and he nodded eagerly. "I kin have it for ye by t'night, if ye want," he said, "But I'll jus' need the Lady's measurements a'fore ye go."
So, Kate let the man pull his measuring tape from a little basket behind the counter, measure her waist, bust and a few other necessaries - she noted that Dante was watching this quite closely, and it seemed to her he was keeping an eye out for anything more than measurements on Alastor's behalf - and soon the two of them were on their way, Alastor's pocket only half-filled, with the promise of more upon completion of his endeavour.
They walked out of the shop and down the road a little way, Kate's eyes constantly roaming through shop windows as they passed, while Dante chatted idly about anything and everything to fill the silence between them. There was anything BUT silence on the busy street, but betwixt the both of them, few words were spoken unless prompted.
"Hey," Dante said suddenly, "you're going to need something to wear WITH that gown, aren't you?" He tugged her into a little shop - much nicer on the inside than it was on the outside - and over to a small window display containing necklaces and earrings. "Here." He'd taken a necklace from the display and held it up for Kate's examination. It wasn't anything too flashy, the chain was slender, silver, and delicate. He walked around behind Kate and leaned in close to her ear. "Lift up your hair for me?" he breathed, and Kate complied quite willingly. His hands brought the necklace around, then clasped it behind her neck and arranged it gently until it lay as it should. Then he turned her around with a gentle grip on her shoulders, looked at her necklace and smiled. Kate lifted her hand and fingered the diamond hanging from the chain; it was rather large, and it glittered charmingly when the sunlight hit it just so.
The store owner, a kind old woman with rosy cheeks and a plump figure - who had also been watching them since they entered the store - handed Kate a small hand-mirror and smiled. "Looks lovely on you, milady."
Kate held the mirror up to herself and gazed into it with something close to awe. She'd never been granted any jewelry as a child. Her parents had deemed it a token of status and therefore banned it from anyone in the family not of legal age or higher status than Kate. Meaning, Kate remembered bitterly, that no one save Eavan or Pyrte could wear any jewelry whatsoever. Dante walked around behind her again and rest his chin on her shoulder so that he, too, could see into the mirror. "What do you think?" he whispered, and saw Kate's reflection smile.
It made his stomach flip, the way Kate's smile made her eyes light up with pleasure and formed a dimple in one cheek.
"I think I don't deserve it," Kate said, with the first hint of modesty that Dante had ever heard from her. She angled the mirror so that she could see the necklace in a new light, and smiled again.
"Oh, but you do," Dante said, and swept a tendril of her hair aside so that he could kiss her neck softly. How a creature so brave, so beautiful, and so determined could NOT deserve anything but the best . . . he could not fathom it. "Kate, you deserve anything your heart desires. After living the kind of life you had to for so long, and putting UP with all of it -- if it were in my power to do so, I think you'd deserve your own Heaven." He smiled at the mirror, let her see him in the reflection, lifted one eyebrow at her. "So; do you want it?"
With her gaze still fixed upon the mirror, Kate nodded. "Yes. . ."
"Wonderful!" The old woman, watching them all the while, clasped her hands together and nodded vigorously, then bustled off behind the counter. Kate watched her go, from the corner of her eye, and then returned to her task of admiring the necklace she now wore. "Dante, you really shouldn't buy this for me. . . you were only given so much money for my things. That dress cost a fortune, I'm sure of it!"
"And since when did you care about how much anything cost, Kate?" he smiled, wrapped both arms around her waist and swayed back and forth a bit. Kate didn't answer right away, though. She liked the way Dante's arms felt when they were wrapped around her like they were, and she also had to admit that the necklace DID look quite wonderful as it lay at her nape.
"I just --" but she hadn't any more time to protest. At that moment, the little shopkeeper appeared again and held a flat, finely-carved mohogany box out to Kate. Silk cloths hung from the sides of the box, blue and silver. Dante unclasped the necklace, then lay it atop the silk with a very commanding aire about himself. "Ye've made a good choice, Sir," the woman said to Dante, folded the sillk over the necklace and snapped the box closed. "This one's called 'Lady Whisper.' It's our most popular piece. I think you'll find you love it, Sir!"
"Oh," Dante said as he took the box and tucked it under one arm, "I know I will." He fished a few gold coins out of his bag - considerably more than twice what Dante would pay for the dress - and handed them to the woman, closing her fist around them with a gentle pat to seal the deal. "And special thanks from the Queen, too," he said, much to the old woman's pleasure. "And now, Kate," Dante clasped her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it, "Our business is finished. Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"
Kate thought on it as they exited, blinking, into the sunlight and looked around. "Well," she said after a moment, "I think I'd like to get something to eat."
"We can go back to the Palace for-"
"No," Kate interrupted, "Let's go there!" She pointed to a tavern at the end of the street with a large sign hanging above the door. 'The Compass Rose' was carved into the wood - along with an intricate design that Kate guessed was supposed to be a compass and a rose combined - and even as they watched, the door swung open and pair of youngsters walked out, chatting happily.
"Uh," Dante temporized, "You're sure? I mean - it's hardly a fitting place for a Princess!"
"Oh, hang it, Dante." She snatched his hand and carted him off toward the tavern, shoved open the door and burst inside as though she were a regular. Around them, dozens of children in blue, grey, rust and pale green were talking and singing, drinking small ale and eating something that looked like rolls of bread with meat inside. There wasn't an empty table in the place, but Kate didn't care. She dragged Dante over to a group of unusually quiet children - most of them not much younger than she was - and cleared her throat. A few of them looked up, spotted Dante's Whites, and shoved over to make room for the Herald and his guest.
"Of course you had to pick the noisiest, most crowded tavern in the city!" Dante called, shouting over the din of countless children as they ate their lunches. "I didn't think you liked the crowds! I'd mindspeak with you, but I can hardly hear myself think!"
Kate laughed a bit, shaking her head as she did so, and patted Dante's arm. "If you're too weak to stand the noise," she shouted back, "I'm sure we could go somewhere else!" Dante punched her in the arm and snickered.
"What?" Kate asked innocently, "I was only suggesting!"
A waitress came by and set two plates in front of them, along with two mugs of small ale. Kate eyed the food dubiously and picked up a piece of it, intending to pick it apart and examine the contents. "What is this stuff?"
"Ooh," Dante took a bite of his food right away and didn't reply before thoroughly chewing and then swallowing, "They're saugage, cheese and bread rolls! This place is the only one that makes them, and even then it's only once a week!" He took another bite and said through his mouthful, "That's why this place is so crowded! I should have known."
Kate looked down at her plate as it lay atop the paper-covered table and shrugged. If Dante was eating it, she could, too! And the food turned out to be very good, in fact. She found herself completely full two sausage/cheese/bread rolls later, yet still wanting more of the things since they tasted so wonderful. Perhaps it was the fact that they were anything but fruit and cheese - even a Princess got tired of the best when it was the same thing day in, day out - or maybe it was because the seasonings in the food were quite different from what Kate was used to, either way, Kate loved it all, and finished off her ale with a flourish. She lay her arms on the table and looked down it at the group of quietly-conversing children on the other end. "What d'you think they're talking about, Dante?" she asked, one eyebrow lifted a little as she looked.
"Oh, school, no doubt," he said, and shoved his plate to the center of the table to signify that he was done eating. Kate followed suit.
"Speaking of which," she said, "When am I supposed to start taking those infernal classes you and the Queen have decided for me?"
"Most likely tomorrow," but Dante's mind wasn't on what he was saying. He was staring off into the distance as Kate watched him do so many times when he spoke with his Companion.
"What?"
"Hm?"
"You've got that look. What's he saying?"
"That look? Oh. Well it's nothing really important. Just - ah - the Dean wanted to know if I was up to teaching a newly Chosen how to shield, ground and center. Apparently I'm very good at it." Dante stood, offered his hand to Kate, "Shall we go, now?" He helped Kate to her feet with an easy tug, lifted the jewelry box he'd set upon the table, handed his waitress a silver piece, and began shoving his way through the crowd as though it were merely a bunch of tall grass. Kate had the distinct feeling that Dante was lying, or at least not telling all of the truth. He had a habit of changing the subject when he didn't want Kate to know something. "Why would the Dean ask you to do it?" she asked, once the door to the tavern was closed, "Why not a Herald who's been a Herald for more than two years?"
"Because," Dante replied vaguely, "I guess I'm just better at it, that's all." Then he began walking back toward Alastor's shop in hopes of retrieving the gown, and this time at a much more brisk pace. Wondering briefly why the man was in such a hurry, Kate followed easily and kept her mouth closed.
"I've on'y jus' got th' neck done, 'Erald," Alastor was saying when Kate pulled herself out of her thoughts and back into the present world, "I'll need a few more hours ta finish th' rest of it."
"Fine," Dante said, "We'll send a servant for it an hour before dusk. If you don't have it then, you'll not get the other half of your pay, and you'll still be expected to complete the gown anyway." He gave the man a curt nod, turned on his heel and hurried from the shop, with Kate hot on his heels.
"Why the rush?" she called from a few feet behind him, "You weren't moving half so fast when we went out this morning!"
"I have business to attend to, Kate. I'm sorry, but they need me back at the Palace."
"But. . . ?"
"I'm sorry," he said again, slowed a bit, and took Kate's arm. "Come, we'll go back to the Palace and you'll have some free time before the banquet, okay?" He didn't wait for her reply, though, and instead hurried both himself and Kate off in the direction of the Palace once more. Kate was rather sorry they had to walk all that way - it wasn't far, but with the crowd, one couldn't fit a horse through the gaps the people left. Walking was easier, but it was also tiresome and slower. By the time they slipped back through the gate leading into the Collegium, Kate was sure she'd never done so much walking in her life. 'I must be getting out of shape,' she thought, 'if a little stroll through the city wears me out like this!' Dante interrupted her thoughts when he paused, kissed her hands, and said, "This is where I leave you, Kate. I've got some business to attend to; I should be back before dinner to escort you to the Hall." Kate nodded and watched him leave, suddenly resentful of his duties. He'd told her once before that a Herald's duty came first, above all else. She didn't think she could ever understand how someone could place duty before everything else in his or her life. 'Like love. . .'
Feeling rather shunned and somewhat forgotten, Kate walked in the opposite direction Dante had gone, off toward a bridge she'd seen from her bedroom window. It crossed a wide river, and - as Kate drew nearer - seemed quite the place for a bit of quiet thought. She sat down upon the edge of the thing, sorely wishing she had some company, and at the same time relishing the fact that she was alone at last. The only company she TRULY wanted was Dante's, and she couldn't have that little luxury just now. Oh, what a life this was turning out to be!
'So here I sit, away from home, surrounded by the Clan of the Sunshine Smiles, without a friend in the world. Hurrah.' She sighed. 'Oh, well. Dante'll be back soon enough!' She WAS schooled in the art of patience, wasn't she? She'd just have to fall back on that training and let time pass on its own. Nothing she could do would make it go any faster, of course. Kate closed her eyes and leaned back onto the bridge, leaving her feet to dangle over the side, hands folded behind her head. The sound of the water rushing below her - cool and swift - was very relaxing, and soon she found herself dosing in the warm early-day sunlight. It wasn't long before she was fully asleep, and an even shorter time passed and Kate fell into the throes of a dream.
~~ Surrounded by the flat, rocky soil of her homeland, Kate spun in a slow circle and took in all that she could. For as far as the eye could see, there was nothing. Nothing, save the flat, rocky land of home. The sun washed its grey light over the landscape, the ever-cloudy skies were their usual, wonderful, melancholy slate, and somewhere far off, a raven cawed. Ah, this was the type of thing Kate loved to see. The world seemed saddened, dreary. It was perfect. "So, you've decided to come back, have you!?" a distinctly reptillian voice crackled behind her, and Kate whirled to find herself face-to-face with a huge, black cobra. "Did you find you couldn't live without the comfort of your high and mighty life, Kayatice?" The contempt dripping from that voice meant that the snake could only be one person. "No." Kate snapped at Pyrte, instantly narrowing her gaze and preparing herself to fight this man. Her vision had begun to haze over with a faint reddish tint. "What the hell do you want?"
"Just you," the snake said, and moved threateningly closer. He hissed a sickening hiss and seemed to grin. "You are, after all, a traitor. You deserve death."
"I don't," Kate snapped at him, "*You* do." She felt her anger flare up, and suddenly, her body became a huge, slinking dragon. Smoke curled from her nostrils and her claws dug into the rocky soil beneath her feet. "Come any closer," she growled, "And I'll kill you."
"Ha!" laughed the cobra, and his black body shimmered in the dreary sunlight, "You tried it once, remember? You'll lose this time just like you lost the last!" As he dove for her, the whole world errupted in crimson flame, and the hellish scream of a burning cobra filled her ears like the cries of a hundred terrified horses. . .~~
On the bridge, Kate jolted herself awake, drenched in sweat, trembling, and pale. She opened her eyes with a sharp intake of breath, and fell into the deepest blue gaze she had ever seen in her life.
:I am Kalia,: a voice whispered into her mind. It was comforting, soothing - she felt her fears draining away, the remnants of that dream vanished - and Kate had the feeling that she'd never be alone again, so long as she lived, :And I have Chosen you, Kate.:
"Back home, the streets were never this crowded. My father had an affinity for order. . . he considered chaos like this unsightly. Too many people on the streets, he'd send out the Guard to beat them back into their homes."
"Nobody likes a mob, I suppose. Ah -- here we are!" Dante tugged Kate through a particularly tight-knit group of children clustered just before a little shop, taking advatage of the shade provided by the awning that hung into the street. "Shopkeeper!" the Herald called into the store, looking around at bolts of fabric, sacks of feather, shelves of shoes, "Service, please?"
" 'Old your 'orses, I'm comin'!" came the gruff reply of the man behind the counter, and Kate eyed him warily. "Ye don't got ta gitcher pants in a twist, I'm walkin' fast as m-- 'Erald!" He looked shocked to see a man in full whites standing within his humble shop. "Terr'bly sorry ta make ye wait, 'Erald! What kin I do for ye this fine mornin'?"
Dante winked at Kate.
"We'd like a dress tailored up for this *lovely* young woman at my left. She's to attend tonight's banquet with the Queen."
The peddler's eyebrows lifted, and a greedy little grin spread its way across a wrinkled face. "Is that so? Methinks I've got just the gown, 'Erald! Wait 'ntil you see it!" He shuffled off into the recesses of his store and the faint sounds of rummaging whispered at them.
"He's odd," Kate remarked, not bothering to lower her voice, "Makes me wonder why such a crack-pot is allowed to work for the general public."
"Shh. . . ."
" 'Ere we 'ave somethin' right purdy for a Lady like yerself!" The man came from his little storeroom and held out a lovely dress that was both blue and gold, a sweeping silken thing that would trail the floor behind the wearer. He held it up proudly and said, "Whatcha think, then?"
"Err," said Kate, eyeing the gown dubiously, "It's okay. . . but do you have anything. . . darker?"
"Darker, milord?" he asked Dante, who only smirked and nodded. "A'right. Gi' me a moment." He hurried back into his store and was gone for some time.
"You've a thing for the sinister, Kate?" Dante had his arms folded and was leaning against the counter with a bemused expression upon his angellic face.
"So? Can you *blame* me, after spending an eternity with that Healer?"
"Annali isn't THAT bad, Kate."
"Have you ever spent more than a few hours around her?"
"No."
"I rest my case."
Just then, a dress walked out of the store-room and paused before them. "What 'bout this?" asked a muffled voice, and Dante laughed. "You make it look like a flock of boggles have inhabited that dress, Alastor." He chuckled and was about to say more when, from his left, came the exclaimation, "Marvelous!" He turned and looked at Kate, who was reaching across the counter to feel the velvet-like fabric on the bust of the dress. Mostly black, this dress was also long and sweeping, and each sleeve was knee-length. The neck was low and wide, and the waist was encompassed with silver embroidery. "Too many skirts, though," Kate said, looking at the large expanse of skirts that seemed to be a grand total of four feet across, "But -- you could fix that, couldn't you, Alastor?"
The shopkeep looked slightly annoyed that Kate had used his first name, but nodded anyway. "Aye, we could fix it right up if ye wanted me to, Lady."
"Good. . . we could remove some of the skirts, leave this one right here."
Alastor nodded.
"And can you make the neck more angled, instead of rounded?"
"Aye, but it might take a while, Lady. I got meself a right lot of orders ta fill t'night."
"I think you can set them aside on the Queen's orders, Alastor." Dante rattled a little pouch of change he'd been keeping in his pocket. "We'd be more than happy to pay you, for your troubles."
Alastor's eyes seemed to sparkle at the prospect of the amount of money he'd get from the Herald if he did a good job, and he nodded eagerly. "I kin have it for ye by t'night, if ye want," he said, "But I'll jus' need the Lady's measurements a'fore ye go."
So, Kate let the man pull his measuring tape from a little basket behind the counter, measure her waist, bust and a few other necessaries - she noted that Dante was watching this quite closely, and it seemed to her he was keeping an eye out for anything more than measurements on Alastor's behalf - and soon the two of them were on their way, Alastor's pocket only half-filled, with the promise of more upon completion of his endeavour.
They walked out of the shop and down the road a little way, Kate's eyes constantly roaming through shop windows as they passed, while Dante chatted idly about anything and everything to fill the silence between them. There was anything BUT silence on the busy street, but betwixt the both of them, few words were spoken unless prompted.
"Hey," Dante said suddenly, "you're going to need something to wear WITH that gown, aren't you?" He tugged her into a little shop - much nicer on the inside than it was on the outside - and over to a small window display containing necklaces and earrings. "Here." He'd taken a necklace from the display and held it up for Kate's examination. It wasn't anything too flashy, the chain was slender, silver, and delicate. He walked around behind Kate and leaned in close to her ear. "Lift up your hair for me?" he breathed, and Kate complied quite willingly. His hands brought the necklace around, then clasped it behind her neck and arranged it gently until it lay as it should. Then he turned her around with a gentle grip on her shoulders, looked at her necklace and smiled. Kate lifted her hand and fingered the diamond hanging from the chain; it was rather large, and it glittered charmingly when the sunlight hit it just so.
The store owner, a kind old woman with rosy cheeks and a plump figure - who had also been watching them since they entered the store - handed Kate a small hand-mirror and smiled. "Looks lovely on you, milady."
Kate held the mirror up to herself and gazed into it with something close to awe. She'd never been granted any jewelry as a child. Her parents had deemed it a token of status and therefore banned it from anyone in the family not of legal age or higher status than Kate. Meaning, Kate remembered bitterly, that no one save Eavan or Pyrte could wear any jewelry whatsoever. Dante walked around behind her again and rest his chin on her shoulder so that he, too, could see into the mirror. "What do you think?" he whispered, and saw Kate's reflection smile.
It made his stomach flip, the way Kate's smile made her eyes light up with pleasure and formed a dimple in one cheek.
"I think I don't deserve it," Kate said, with the first hint of modesty that Dante had ever heard from her. She angled the mirror so that she could see the necklace in a new light, and smiled again.
"Oh, but you do," Dante said, and swept a tendril of her hair aside so that he could kiss her neck softly. How a creature so brave, so beautiful, and so determined could NOT deserve anything but the best . . . he could not fathom it. "Kate, you deserve anything your heart desires. After living the kind of life you had to for so long, and putting UP with all of it -- if it were in my power to do so, I think you'd deserve your own Heaven." He smiled at the mirror, let her see him in the reflection, lifted one eyebrow at her. "So; do you want it?"
With her gaze still fixed upon the mirror, Kate nodded. "Yes. . ."
"Wonderful!" The old woman, watching them all the while, clasped her hands together and nodded vigorously, then bustled off behind the counter. Kate watched her go, from the corner of her eye, and then returned to her task of admiring the necklace she now wore. "Dante, you really shouldn't buy this for me. . . you were only given so much money for my things. That dress cost a fortune, I'm sure of it!"
"And since when did you care about how much anything cost, Kate?" he smiled, wrapped both arms around her waist and swayed back and forth a bit. Kate didn't answer right away, though. She liked the way Dante's arms felt when they were wrapped around her like they were, and she also had to admit that the necklace DID look quite wonderful as it lay at her nape.
"I just --" but she hadn't any more time to protest. At that moment, the little shopkeeper appeared again and held a flat, finely-carved mohogany box out to Kate. Silk cloths hung from the sides of the box, blue and silver. Dante unclasped the necklace, then lay it atop the silk with a very commanding aire about himself. "Ye've made a good choice, Sir," the woman said to Dante, folded the sillk over the necklace and snapped the box closed. "This one's called 'Lady Whisper.' It's our most popular piece. I think you'll find you love it, Sir!"
"Oh," Dante said as he took the box and tucked it under one arm, "I know I will." He fished a few gold coins out of his bag - considerably more than twice what Dante would pay for the dress - and handed them to the woman, closing her fist around them with a gentle pat to seal the deal. "And special thanks from the Queen, too," he said, much to the old woman's pleasure. "And now, Kate," Dante clasped her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it, "Our business is finished. Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"
Kate thought on it as they exited, blinking, into the sunlight and looked around. "Well," she said after a moment, "I think I'd like to get something to eat."
"We can go back to the Palace for-"
"No," Kate interrupted, "Let's go there!" She pointed to a tavern at the end of the street with a large sign hanging above the door. 'The Compass Rose' was carved into the wood - along with an intricate design that Kate guessed was supposed to be a compass and a rose combined - and even as they watched, the door swung open and pair of youngsters walked out, chatting happily.
"Uh," Dante temporized, "You're sure? I mean - it's hardly a fitting place for a Princess!"
"Oh, hang it, Dante." She snatched his hand and carted him off toward the tavern, shoved open the door and burst inside as though she were a regular. Around them, dozens of children in blue, grey, rust and pale green were talking and singing, drinking small ale and eating something that looked like rolls of bread with meat inside. There wasn't an empty table in the place, but Kate didn't care. She dragged Dante over to a group of unusually quiet children - most of them not much younger than she was - and cleared her throat. A few of them looked up, spotted Dante's Whites, and shoved over to make room for the Herald and his guest.
"Of course you had to pick the noisiest, most crowded tavern in the city!" Dante called, shouting over the din of countless children as they ate their lunches. "I didn't think you liked the crowds! I'd mindspeak with you, but I can hardly hear myself think!"
Kate laughed a bit, shaking her head as she did so, and patted Dante's arm. "If you're too weak to stand the noise," she shouted back, "I'm sure we could go somewhere else!" Dante punched her in the arm and snickered.
"What?" Kate asked innocently, "I was only suggesting!"
A waitress came by and set two plates in front of them, along with two mugs of small ale. Kate eyed the food dubiously and picked up a piece of it, intending to pick it apart and examine the contents. "What is this stuff?"
"Ooh," Dante took a bite of his food right away and didn't reply before thoroughly chewing and then swallowing, "They're saugage, cheese and bread rolls! This place is the only one that makes them, and even then it's only once a week!" He took another bite and said through his mouthful, "That's why this place is so crowded! I should have known."
Kate looked down at her plate as it lay atop the paper-covered table and shrugged. If Dante was eating it, she could, too! And the food turned out to be very good, in fact. She found herself completely full two sausage/cheese/bread rolls later, yet still wanting more of the things since they tasted so wonderful. Perhaps it was the fact that they were anything but fruit and cheese - even a Princess got tired of the best when it was the same thing day in, day out - or maybe it was because the seasonings in the food were quite different from what Kate was used to, either way, Kate loved it all, and finished off her ale with a flourish. She lay her arms on the table and looked down it at the group of quietly-conversing children on the other end. "What d'you think they're talking about, Dante?" she asked, one eyebrow lifted a little as she looked.
"Oh, school, no doubt," he said, and shoved his plate to the center of the table to signify that he was done eating. Kate followed suit.
"Speaking of which," she said, "When am I supposed to start taking those infernal classes you and the Queen have decided for me?"
"Most likely tomorrow," but Dante's mind wasn't on what he was saying. He was staring off into the distance as Kate watched him do so many times when he spoke with his Companion.
"What?"
"Hm?"
"You've got that look. What's he saying?"
"That look? Oh. Well it's nothing really important. Just - ah - the Dean wanted to know if I was up to teaching a newly Chosen how to shield, ground and center. Apparently I'm very good at it." Dante stood, offered his hand to Kate, "Shall we go, now?" He helped Kate to her feet with an easy tug, lifted the jewelry box he'd set upon the table, handed his waitress a silver piece, and began shoving his way through the crowd as though it were merely a bunch of tall grass. Kate had the distinct feeling that Dante was lying, or at least not telling all of the truth. He had a habit of changing the subject when he didn't want Kate to know something. "Why would the Dean ask you to do it?" she asked, once the door to the tavern was closed, "Why not a Herald who's been a Herald for more than two years?"
"Because," Dante replied vaguely, "I guess I'm just better at it, that's all." Then he began walking back toward Alastor's shop in hopes of retrieving the gown, and this time at a much more brisk pace. Wondering briefly why the man was in such a hurry, Kate followed easily and kept her mouth closed.
"I've on'y jus' got th' neck done, 'Erald," Alastor was saying when Kate pulled herself out of her thoughts and back into the present world, "I'll need a few more hours ta finish th' rest of it."
"Fine," Dante said, "We'll send a servant for it an hour before dusk. If you don't have it then, you'll not get the other half of your pay, and you'll still be expected to complete the gown anyway." He gave the man a curt nod, turned on his heel and hurried from the shop, with Kate hot on his heels.
"Why the rush?" she called from a few feet behind him, "You weren't moving half so fast when we went out this morning!"
"I have business to attend to, Kate. I'm sorry, but they need me back at the Palace."
"But. . . ?"
"I'm sorry," he said again, slowed a bit, and took Kate's arm. "Come, we'll go back to the Palace and you'll have some free time before the banquet, okay?" He didn't wait for her reply, though, and instead hurried both himself and Kate off in the direction of the Palace once more. Kate was rather sorry they had to walk all that way - it wasn't far, but with the crowd, one couldn't fit a horse through the gaps the people left. Walking was easier, but it was also tiresome and slower. By the time they slipped back through the gate leading into the Collegium, Kate was sure she'd never done so much walking in her life. 'I must be getting out of shape,' she thought, 'if a little stroll through the city wears me out like this!' Dante interrupted her thoughts when he paused, kissed her hands, and said, "This is where I leave you, Kate. I've got some business to attend to; I should be back before dinner to escort you to the Hall." Kate nodded and watched him leave, suddenly resentful of his duties. He'd told her once before that a Herald's duty came first, above all else. She didn't think she could ever understand how someone could place duty before everything else in his or her life. 'Like love. . .'
Feeling rather shunned and somewhat forgotten, Kate walked in the opposite direction Dante had gone, off toward a bridge she'd seen from her bedroom window. It crossed a wide river, and - as Kate drew nearer - seemed quite the place for a bit of quiet thought. She sat down upon the edge of the thing, sorely wishing she had some company, and at the same time relishing the fact that she was alone at last. The only company she TRULY wanted was Dante's, and she couldn't have that little luxury just now. Oh, what a life this was turning out to be!
'So here I sit, away from home, surrounded by the Clan of the Sunshine Smiles, without a friend in the world. Hurrah.' She sighed. 'Oh, well. Dante'll be back soon enough!' She WAS schooled in the art of patience, wasn't she? She'd just have to fall back on that training and let time pass on its own. Nothing she could do would make it go any faster, of course. Kate closed her eyes and leaned back onto the bridge, leaving her feet to dangle over the side, hands folded behind her head. The sound of the water rushing below her - cool and swift - was very relaxing, and soon she found herself dosing in the warm early-day sunlight. It wasn't long before she was fully asleep, and an even shorter time passed and Kate fell into the throes of a dream.
~~ Surrounded by the flat, rocky soil of her homeland, Kate spun in a slow circle and took in all that she could. For as far as the eye could see, there was nothing. Nothing, save the flat, rocky land of home. The sun washed its grey light over the landscape, the ever-cloudy skies were their usual, wonderful, melancholy slate, and somewhere far off, a raven cawed. Ah, this was the type of thing Kate loved to see. The world seemed saddened, dreary. It was perfect. "So, you've decided to come back, have you!?" a distinctly reptillian voice crackled behind her, and Kate whirled to find herself face-to-face with a huge, black cobra. "Did you find you couldn't live without the comfort of your high and mighty life, Kayatice?" The contempt dripping from that voice meant that the snake could only be one person. "No." Kate snapped at Pyrte, instantly narrowing her gaze and preparing herself to fight this man. Her vision had begun to haze over with a faint reddish tint. "What the hell do you want?"
"Just you," the snake said, and moved threateningly closer. He hissed a sickening hiss and seemed to grin. "You are, after all, a traitor. You deserve death."
"I don't," Kate snapped at him, "*You* do." She felt her anger flare up, and suddenly, her body became a huge, slinking dragon. Smoke curled from her nostrils and her claws dug into the rocky soil beneath her feet. "Come any closer," she growled, "And I'll kill you."
"Ha!" laughed the cobra, and his black body shimmered in the dreary sunlight, "You tried it once, remember? You'll lose this time just like you lost the last!" As he dove for her, the whole world errupted in crimson flame, and the hellish scream of a burning cobra filled her ears like the cries of a hundred terrified horses. . .~~
On the bridge, Kate jolted herself awake, drenched in sweat, trembling, and pale. She opened her eyes with a sharp intake of breath, and fell into the deepest blue gaze she had ever seen in her life.
:I am Kalia,: a voice whispered into her mind. It was comforting, soothing - she felt her fears draining away, the remnants of that dream vanished - and Kate had the feeling that she'd never be alone again, so long as she lived, :And I have Chosen you, Kate.: