The hours stretched on for what felt like an eternity. The trees above all looked exactly the same, and nothing was entertaining about watching the dirt path beside them for rocks. With nothing else to fill her head and keep her troubled thoughts away, Maribelle found herself plagued by a single question:
"Are we there yet?"
"We're no closer than we were five minutes ago," the man above her said. "Or ten minutes before that. Or eight minutes before that."
"You make me sound like an impatient ingrate."
"Of course you aren't, buttercup! You're just a little... forgetful. That's all." His laugh was dry.
Maribelle scowled up at him. "I am not forgetful!"
"Then maybe we could talk about something else? Like... your favorite tea, perhaps?"
"My favorite tea? Well, I do enjoy a cup of chamomile in the morning."
"Really?" The man chuckled. "What a surprise. I have a friend who likes it as well. What a small world we live in!"
Maribelle crinkled her nose. "Yes, well I assume you might know how long it takes to brew? Assuming this 'friend' of yours ever had–"
Suddenly the man jerked to a stop. He held up a hand before her face, shushing her.
Her response was to scowl. "Don't shush me!"
"No no, wait; do you hear that?"
Maribelle leaned forward, but all she could hear was the faint birdsong from above them. As she craned her ear, however, a faint clicking began to emerge from the calm. Clicking, like wood against stone.
The man glanced up at Maribelle. She looked back. Together, they peered down the road as a small, horse-drawn carriage appeared behind them.
"A carriage! Oh, that will make things so much easier!"
The man chuckled. "Yeah. My arms were getting tired. It'd be a relief once I can get all this weight off me."
"Was that a jab at my weight?"
"No. No, it wasn't."
Maribelle shook her head, and she started tapping against the man's arm. "You do have enough to pay for a ride, right?"
"Ah. Well," the man said, stiffening, "I was hoping you could pay. Purse is a little tight."
Maribelle frowned, suspicious. "It may look like it, but I'm not made of gold, you know."
"I know, I know. If you're so against it, I can always sell my sword."
"No, it's fine. I won't rob you of your livelihood, I'm not a monster." A long sigh passed through her lips as she reached down into her pockets. A small bag, heavy with gold, emerged from the folds, and she showed it to the man. His smile quirked, growing a little wider.
They both looked back up, but the carriage had already passed them and was growing smaller with each passing second.
A look passed between them. That wasn't good, they knew. But shouldn't have needed to be said that it was only going to get worse if they just stood there like a pair of cows in the pasture.
The man began frantically waving his hand, taking off after it. "Hey! Over here!"
"Wait!" Maribelle yelled, keeping a tight hold around the man. "Down here!"
To their relief, the driver seemed to hear them. It slowed, and by the time they reached it, it had come to a complete halt. Quickly, the man made his way to the side of the carriage. The driver watched them approach, his hair streaked with grey as he gazed down upon them with an expectant look.
"Lost your way to the honeymoon, I assume?" he said as soon as they stopped in front of him. "Don't be embarrassed if you are. It happened to me and my wife as well."
Maribelle exchanged a look with the man. A message passed between them.
"She's just a–"
"He's my son," she blurted out.
Apparently, the message hadn't been clear enough.
Their eyes locked again. The man raised an eyebrow. Maribelle shook her head.
"Is this something I ought to be worried about?" the nobleman called from above.
"Not at all," the man said. "She's just my little sister."
"Your little sister?" Maribelle almost choked on the words.
The driver's eyes narrowed. "Really? Your 'little sister' doesn't seem too happy with the fact."
"That's because she doesn't like to be reminded. She's a little sick in the head, you see, and she thinks she's older than she is."
"I'm not crazy!"
"That's what a crazy person would say."
Maribelle threw up her free hand and groaned. At the very least he hadn't tried to question why she had wanted him silent, so there were small mercies. Very small mercies, but mercies nonetheless.
"So, I take it you want a ride?" the driver said. "Where will we be heading?"
"To the next town over," the man replied. "We're taking her to see the doctor, you see. Our mother hopes he'll be able to find a cure for her problem."
"Are you, now? Well, I know a thing or two about that town, and if anyone can find a cure for your sister, it'd be Doctor Maxie."
"Doctor Maxie, that's who we'll be seeing! Mother says he's quite the intelligent man."
"Maxie is a woman."
The man's mouth clamped shut. He opened it a second later, then stopped to consider his words. Finally, he said, "Yes. That's what I meant to say."
"Oh for–" Maribelle's face twisted into anger. "It seems I'm not the only one here who needs their head checked!"
"In any case," the man said, "if you could take us there, we'd greatly appreciate it."
"Then you're more than welcome to climb aboard, as long as you can pay for it," the driver said.
"What is your fee, then?"
"Two hundred."
The man's smile faltered. His head leaned over to Maribelle and whispered, "Is that expensive? I've never paid for a carriage before, so I wouldn't know?"
"Expensive?" Maribelle barked a laugh, unafraid of being overheard. "That's practically robbery!"
"So we shouldn't take it, then?"
In an instant, Maribelle deflated, her shoulders falling back as she slumped in his arms. "I mean, it's not as if we have any other choice." Raising her purse to his face, she muttered, "Ten coins should be enough."
Keeping an eye on the driver, the man reached into her bag and plucked the coins one by one. The driver extended a palm, and as he watched the man drop the coins into his waiting hand, he smiled.
"A man has to make a living, you know."
Maybe it was the fact that her purse felt twice as light, but for some strange reason, Maribelle suddenly found the driver's voice grating on her ears.
"Well, not all of us make it a competition to see who can take siphon as much weight from everyone else's wallets!" she snapped out.
The driver raised his hands. "Hey, I just take people from one place to another. Any gold I take," he shook his own wallet, rattling the coins inside, "is just a bonus for me."
"Oh, rub it in, will you?"
"Buttercup," the man cut her off, already stepping up to the carriage door, "let's get going, shall we?"
A bitter retort for him surged into her mouth, but she bit it down. As annoying as he could be, he was better than the driver, and any verbal lashing she gave him now would leave a bitter taste.
"Very well," she said through gritted teeth.
With his arms already occupied with holding her, Maribelle took it upon herself to pull it open for the both of them. The man carried her inside, letting her gently down onto the cushions.
The door had barely closed behind them before the carriage lurched forward. The sound of the wooden wheels rolled over the rocky path filled the cabin, jostling them as it moved along, as all of a sudden, Maribelle found herself with an extra two hundred pounds lying across her lap.
The man looked to his right, his left, then finally looked up at her. In the slowest three seconds of his life, he racked his mind for a witty response.
All that left his mouth was: "Please don't throw me."
Maribelle shrieked, and she threw him across the cabin. The man caught himself before he hit the wall. He held himself up against it, before he let himself slowly fall back into his own seat. They stared at each other for the longest time, still frozen in the moment, neither sure how to break away.
Maribelle was the first to let her gaze fall. "I'm so sorry. I was startled."
"It's fine." The man rubbed his arm. "I've felt worse."
"It's not. I should not have reacted like that, not after you covered for me. It is simply improper."
The man's lips quirked up. "Hey. Anything for you, buttercup."
"You'd say that to any girl you meet."
"I won't deny that. Unless... that bothers you in any way?"
"Gods no." Maribelle snorted. "I simply wanted to say thank you. That's all."
"It's nothing to worry yourself about. Not unless you're some sort of dangerous criminal." The man paused. "You're not, are you?"
"Well... no."
"You don't sound sure about that. If you aim to deceive, you won't be able to do it if even you don't believe your words."
"That's not it at all! It's just that... some people may not agree with that."
"So you're on the run, then?"
"From some less than reputable people, yes."
"Well then, you won't have to worry about them, buttercup! As long as I'm around, I'll keep you safe!"
"Oh, how noble," Maribelle scoffed. "I assume this is how you get other women to swoon at your feet?"
"Yeesh." The man winced. "You don't pull your punches, do you?"
"Not if it keeps away philanderers like you."
"Hah. I can see that."
Hey, I'm back!
So I didn't write for a week. Not for a lack of trying, but because I was busy with school stuff. And also for a lack of trying, because when writer's block hits me, it hits hard. Hopefully, I'll be able to get out more soon, but until then, I hope you all enjoyed reading what little I've managed to do this week.
As always, I wish you all well, and stay safe!