CHAPTER 4
Liliana ran into Minerva's ModernWear dress shop.
She was, oh so very late. Minerva was already waiting. She was a plump woman with orchid-colored hair bobbed boldly at her chin, matching the measuring tapes wrapped around her neck like jewelry.
"You're late."
"I know, I know! It's just been such a rush this morning. I'd completely put any thoughts of packing out of my mind until two hours ago!" Liliana kissed her cheeks and practically threw the heavy bags she was carrying onto a black leather sofa.
"Two hours? Oh, sweet, you're in trouble. I thought you were supposed to leave for the ship soon."
"In another 32, oh, 31 minutes!" She eyed the clock, her chest heaving with all the running she had been doing. "Please tell me you're done with my items."
"As if you'd expect any less from me," Minerva scoffed. "They're all done. I'll get Ivan to help you with the bags. Ivan!" She then looked Liliana in her eyes, her lips puckering slightly. "Even if you sold just one little design to me, I'd be forever in your debt."
"Don't make me regret designing a gown for you, Minnie," She warned as her mouth tilted up. She only designed clothes for people she liked, although the woman was always trying to get her to capitalize on her skills.
Ivan, a short man with a scruffy brown beard, walked into the room, looking at Minerva for instructions.
"Go get Liliana's dresses. You'll have to help her take them and her bags home."
Ivan nodded and bowed his head slightly to both of them as he left. He was a man of no words but was polite and one of the more decent people in the district.
"Now, drink some wine and have some cake. We have a lot of catching up to do."
"I'd honestly love that, but I have no time today. There's just too much to do and too little time."
Minerva obviously disagreed because she brought out an assortment of pastries and handed her a wine glass filled to the brim with dark liquid. "No one leaves my shop with an empty stomach."
Ivan was already returning. She took a sip of wine, and crammed a raspberry tart into her mouth, speaking around the food. "That was delicious but I do have to go. I owe you my life for making the clothes so fast."
"There's absolutely no need for any of that. You can pay me back by taking me out to tea whenever you get back."
She nodded and waved bye, as she darted into the closest carriage, Ivan at her heels with all her things.
For fourteen days, there had been only dark waves, and gray sea foam, and biting salt spray. And then, on the morning of the fifteenth, Liliana saw the snow-covered curves of the Great Gateway Arch to the Magnificent North.
The weathered columns of the granite arch, streaked with blue-marbled veins and stood as tall as a castle keep, were carved to resemble mermaids wielding tridents that pierced through carvings of men, the way a sailor might spear a fish. The men's backs were bowed, and their hands stretched to hold out the sign forming the top of the enormous arch.
" WELCOME TO THE MAGNIFICENT NORTH
STORIES BE HERE "
"It's even larger than I imagined," said Marisol. Her face looked brighter than it had been the past week, although she really didn't care about Evangeline's step-sister at all. It wasn't that Marisol was rude or anything like that. She was just so boring. She spent most of her time below deck, in her room, or huddled with her sister.
Being boring, in Liliana's eyes, was a worse crime than murder.
So she did her best to avoid the brunette, lest she kill herself from Marisol's lackluster attitude. She walked to the other side of the ship, nodding at the blonde sailor named Alexi.
No one spoke when they passed under the arch. It was a common myth that if you spoke then, the ancient magic of the North would steal your voice and use your words to lure unsuspecting travelers into helping it escape to other parts of the world.
On the other side, the air was cool as ice and full of clouds so low that she could taste them.
"I wish we could sail faster," Alexi grumbled. "This part always gives me the collywobbles."
The waves stopped lapping, and the nearby clouds drifted over the sun, shadowing their ship as it silently cut through the stretch of sea known as Valor Row, the graveyard for the first royal family of the North. Standing knee-deep in the blue-gray waters, the statues were nearly as tall as the arch, every inch of them carved to appear as if they wore armor or finery - except for their heads, which were all missing.
And yet, as the ship sailed past, she could still hear their voices, or perhaps they were the voices stolen from those who had traveled through the arch before.
Free us, they rasped.
Restore us.
Help us.
We can...
The plea was cut off as the ship reached the docks of Valorfell and everyone became busy disembarking.
"Miss Fox? Miss Tourmaline? Miss Wilsiam?" asked a silver-haired woman in a sea-salt-blue gown with a silver underskirt and a belt that held a number of tied-up scrolls in it. Wilsiam must have been the last name Scarlett and Tella decided on for her. "I'm Frangelica. I'll be escorting you to your lodgings and ensuring Miss Fox and Miss Wilsiam make it to the dinner this evening."
Nocte Neverending didn't officially begin until tomorrow, but this evening, there was a private dinner to welcome all the foreign ambassadors. Unlike the official ball where the prince only danced with five girls, this evening, he would privately meet with everyone, including Evangeline.
Marisol was not invited, but as Evangeline's chapterone, Liliana was.
Frangelica's smile was warm and her wave brisk as she urged them from the ship. But Liliana could not bring herself to rush as she stepped onto the drizzly dock full of fishmongers, trading stalls, and knobby barrels of oysters.
Gods, she hadn't been here in ages.
She'd always loved living in the south. She loved the heat of the sun and the overbright colors everyone wore. But here, the brilliant streets of Valenda seemed too lurid. Everything was mist-touched. It was all foggy grays, rainy blues, and deep purples the exact color of fresh plums.
The burly men at the docks all looked as if they could step into a forest and fell a tree with one swing of an ax. They wore leather boots covered in heavy buckles, while the women wore thick woolen gowns with belts like Frangelica's, which held everything from bottles of tonics to palm-size crossbows. Just taking in the cool, crisp air made her stand a little straighter and breathe a little deeper. And-
"Marisol, Liliana, look, tiny dragons!" Evangeline exclaimed
"Oh my-" Marisol went pale as a robust pop sounded and a tiny pepper-black dragon about the size of a chipmunk shot out streams of red fire to sear a fish stick at a nearby stall.
Liliana grinned. Here, the adorable little beasts were as common as squirrels. Almost every vendor had one. Marisol was clearly not fond of the small winged creatures but Evangeline was delighted to spy tiny blue dragons sitting on shoulders and leathery brown ones perched on carts. The miniature beasts roasted apples and meats, blew glass baubles, and heated earthen mugs of drinking chocolate.
Beyond the docks, spires of hearty wooden shops grew upward instead of outward. Each glorious level had storybook-quaint storefronts, all connected by fog-laced footbridges that crisscrossed above her head in a maze of wonderful patterns.
Everything was different but, somehow, exactly the same.
"Get your Daily Rumor!" cried a girl with a satchel full of rolled-up papers. "Perfect if you're placing bets on who the prince will propose to - or if you want to know who your competition is!"
"We should buy one," Marisol said, eyeing the papers with curiosity.
Liliana reached into her coin purse. Their currency was different, but they were generously supplied with Northern pocket money. "How much?"
"Just half a marque," said the paper girl. "Wait-" The girl's brows jumped as her gaze slid past Liliana and she took a real look at Evangeline. "It's you! And you really do have pink hair." The girl shoved a mist-damp paper in Evangeline's hands and winked. "It's on me. I placed a bet that Prince Apollo chooses you over the others."
Evangeline seemed to not know how to respond and insisted on paying the girl twice as much as the paper cost.
"This is all so very exciting," Marisol squealed. It was a perky, purely happy sound that for some reason grated on Liliana's nerves. "Even though it says you're a risky choice, you're going to need to be careful tonight with the other girls. They'll definitely be all claws and teeth now."
"Not necessarily," She cut in, recalling her own experience a few Nocte Neverendings ago. "You're practically guaranteed that there will be a few, but most others will be pretty decent. You should definitely be able to make a few close friends."
Evangeline nodded, looking down at her wrist.
"Ladies!" Frangelica clapped. "None of this will matter if Miss Fox and Miss Wilsiam don't make it to her dinner." She waved them into a waiting coach.
Liliana stared out the window as they rumbled down a bumpy gray lane lined with inns and taverns named after various Northern tales and historical figures. They passed a fortune-telling den called Vesper's Whispers, and a clanging forge named Wolfric's Weapons.
They finally stopped near the end of the merry road at the Mermaid and the Pearls: Inn for Adventurous Travelers. Rumored to have been built out of the wreckage of a sunken ship, the inn was full of creaking floorboards and roaring warmth that immediately thawed her chilled skin.
The walls were papered in sepia-tinted pages covered indrawings of dazed sailors and wicked mer-girls. The theme continued in their suite. The frames of their beds mimicked open wooden treasure chests with posters formed of the largest white pearls she'd ever seen.
Evangeline very pointedly avoided all of them as she dressed for the evening.
Everyone in attendance was supposed to wear fashions that represented something about them or the kingdom they were from, and Evangeline's dress from the empress clearly represented her.
Instead of sleeves, there were merely thin lines of silver that wrapped around her arms and décolletageand then continued down, flowing over her snow-white bodice and fitted white skirt like veins of marbled stone.
She looked like a statue come to life.
Liliana's gown was a true masterpiece, with a detailed bodice of intricate lace, delicate as the finest spider's silk, which cascaded down her figure like a waterfall of moonlight. The gown's neckline, a subtle sweetheart shape, revealed just a hint of the milky skin beneath. The fabric, a rich shade of midnight blue, caught the light in a mesmerizing dance of shimmer and shadow, whenever she moved, as if the very stars had woven themselves into her attire.
She had swept her hair into an intricate updo adorned with sparkling crystals that matched those at her neck and wrists, glittering like stars against the backdrop of her gown.
Marisol went pale. "I suppose it's a good thing I wasn't invited to this dinner. If I'd been given a gown to symbolize my life, it would have probably had a skull and crossbones embroidered over the chest." Marisol said this as if it were a jest, but her voice was a little too high and a little too raw. Liliana had to force herself to refrain from rolling her eyes. Self-pity within limits was fine but consistent and repetitive deterioration was just annoying and uncomfortable for everyone.
"It's going to be different here." Evangeline took her stepsister's hand and squeezed.
"Miss Fox! Miss Wilsiam!" Frangelica called through the door. "It's time to depart, my dears."
She grabbed her tiny clutch and smiled at Marisol, glad that she didn't have to spend an evening alone with her. "Have fun."
She highly doubted the woman knew how to have any.