THE old grandfather helped me plant the mulberry branch we brought back from Longhurst. Crowned with just two leaves, it stands in a large pot on the sill of the dining room’s bay window. By winter, we’ll be able to transplant it to the grove at the back of the estate, and in the meantime, he placed it inside so I can see it.
The potato pancakes I had for breakfast were crispy outside and chewy within. Topped with apple sauce and crunchy bits of fruit, they were even more delicious. The sprout-and-carrot salad was crunchy too, and the tasty plum juice made my cheeks tingle.
It’s not a special occasion, so I dined alone.
I usually think I can eat a little more, though that doesn’t seem to be the case recently. The head cook and Tabitha always ensure that I get the right amount to avoid stomachaches, so that’s probably for the best.
After breakfast, as I exit the dining room, I spot the mulberry plant on the windowsill. The two green leaves sway as if waving at me. Old Grandfather is amazing. I tell the plant to try its best to grow.
On a typical day, I help my lord husband with Drewett’s trading business, assisting with the selection of merchandise to move between the capital and Orta and handling the necessary paperwork. I’m still learning so I’m not good at predicting which items are best for resale. He always helps by choosing products he thinks I’ll like or want to eat.
Since he’s away, I help Ethan with the bookkeeping instead. My lord husband has installed a desk for me in his own office.
“Ethan, this package is supposed to arrive soon, but it’ll probably be late, because…” He quickly produces a map from somewhere, and I point. “Erm, here. The mountain roads here are muddy with rain.”
“I see. We’ll adjust the schedule accordingly.” He jots a memo and calls to someone outside the office. A servant materializes and Ethan passes the note to him along with some instructions.
I sit back, rearranging the various paperweights lining my small desk: a glass bird, a cast-iron lizard, a carved wooden bear that’s heavier than it looks, and a flower encased in crystal that fits perfectly in my hand. They shine in the sunlight from the window to my left, and I enjoy moving the translucent ones to create round rainbows on my desk.
My lord husband bought them for me because he knew I’d like them. Sometimes, I take one and hide it. They don’t have any scent so they should be hard to find, yet he always manages to locate them immediately.
I finish with Ethan and head to the kitchen next. Walking along a hallway, I glance out a window to see the old gardener and his grandson working on the training grounds. They appear to be balancing a row of rectangular stones on the leveled dirt. Are those the stones that used to border the flowerbeds? He did mention wanting to rearrange the beds, I remember. Maybe I can go take a look.
The old gardener’s face is serious as he crouches to place the last stone. His grandson stands with a laugh and yells that “he’ll get the lady,” turning in my direction. When he notices me at the window, his expression changes to one of shock and he begins to wave both arms wildly.
“Let’s use the door, my lady,” says Haggis, who is following behind me. He blocks the open window with an arm, and I lower the foot I’d braced on the windowsill. I almost forgot my manners.
The gardener’s grandson is thirteen, still a small human although he may be slightly taller than me. He’s around the same height as the boy who gave me potatoes. I was much bigger as the Monster King; perhaps that’s why I considered humans small.
As I approach, I spy a surprising number of stones. Spaced at equal intervals, they curve to form a large spiral amid several boards slanting up from the ground and a scattering of small, polished metal balls.
“Have a go, my lady!”
While the grandson cheers, I lift a long stick at the old gardener’s instruction and tap the top of the stone in the very center of the vortex. It topples and hits the next, which hits the next, which…
“Wowww!”
The boy and I chase the wave of falling stones. Amazing! Oh, the board bounced! A metal ball careens into another stone! Wow!
“Isn’t this amazing?!” he yells.
“It is!”
The spiral of stones leads under a hedge. I can’t see it anymore!
“Look at the sky, my lady,” suggests the grandfather, before I can dash around it.
“Wowww! A rainbow!” Water shoots high into the air, catching the sunlight. There’s a sprinkler on the other side! I know it!
“Wow! Amazing! My lor— Oh, he’s not here…”
I was having so much fun that I’d called out for my lord husband.
So much fun, yet my heart suddenly feels tight. The suffocating feeling returns.
The old grandfather promises to make an even longer line of stones once my lord husband returns, and I tell him I’d like to help. I’ll practice how to place the stones correctly until then.
✦ ✦ ✦
WE ride for half a day or so, the sky still light by the time we reach our destination. Summer has arrived there earlier than in the capital, and the sun’s heat lingers late into evening.
“Didn’t you say the place is maintained?”
The castle’s trustee, a man with a forgettable face, nods proudly. “We’ve reinforced it so it doesn’t collapse!”
“That’s considered maintenance?”
The structure is half buried in earth and stone, so much so that it appears to have been carved out of a rock face. It’s smaller than Drewett’s castle, yet the remains of a spire with an intricately carved rose window indicate that the king who once lived there was a rich and powerful man. But in the present, despite its management by the royal family, the place lacks in both appeal and population, which likely explains its ramshackle state.
Abigail often says distance on maps is different from distance in reality, and I suddenly understand. The area is so sparsely inhabited that any measurements are sure to be extremely imprecise: the castle, somewhat removed from the fields and pastures ringing the town where the trustee lives, is much closer to the mountains bordering the Monster King’s forest than our map suggested. It sits in the shadow of a cliff, the endpoint of a ridge that extends like a large sword from the direction of the forest.
“Has it always been here? At the foot of a mountain?” asks Rodney. “I guess it must have, but…”
“The castle isn’t close to the mountain—it’s the other way around,” I muse. “We’ll have a better view from the top. The peak isn’t much higher than your typical castle, so maybe it simply wasn’t included on the map.”
“It looks like it was raised by earth magic, doesn’t it?” comments the trustee.
“It’s too big to have been created by normal humans,” I reply.
Rodney gasps. “That’s terrifying…?!”
“I don’t want to think too much about that… Either way, this place looks too dangerous to enter, let alone search for documents.”
Hadn’t Abigail mentioned that the mountains around the forest didn’t exist during the Monster King’s time? Or was it that they weren’t as large as they are now? Must be the latter, since there was that dragon who lived in a cave on the slope.
Rodney and I continue to stare in awe until the trustee timidly says, “My lord, are you looking for records from when the region was its own country? We have an archive of documents that were retrieved from the castle but not taken to the capital.”
“Oh, is that so? Is the archive nearby?”
“It’s in a separate wing of the town hall. You said you wanted to come to the castle, so that’s why I brought you here instead.”
“That I did, so don’t worry. I assume the town hall’s already closed by now anyway.”
“Yes, that’s right. Of course, I can lend you the key to the archive anytime you wish, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to invite you to my home for a mea—”
An earthshaking roar echoes from beyond the castle and cliff. We turn, quickly readying our swords.
The trustee merely shakes his head. “Scary, isn’t it? We hear it from time to time, maybe once a year? Probably just the wind blowing through gaps in the stone.”
Rodney and I share a wordless look and raised brow. We’ve definitely heard that roar before! It’s the creature! That dragon!